Chapter 58

58
THE FIRESIDE LOUNGE, WASHINGTON, D.C.

General Vilnius Veemer was the successful first born son of Lithuanian immigrants. From love of their Baltic heritage, his parents had given his surname over to the Capitol of their lost homeland. His friends called him 'Villie'. It was rare that any man in uniform would be close enough to use that comfortable nickname. To the unobservant the two 'V's' above the row of stars on his briefcase seemed to be a 'W'. His appearance was deceptive. Any officer carrying four stars from the United States Marine Corps had long since established his bravery, honor and willingness to carry out orders.

General Justus Tower had grown up on a ranch in Texas. As a junior officer he had established his credentials in combat, only to go on to distinguish himself again in administration. His recent experience had been with the oversight of all training activities for the Corps. Both men were competent and optimistic. Both had good reason for their confidence.

The Fireside Lounge was a high end establishment frequented by all sorts of government officials and military men. It was a small, quiet place that charged eight dollars for a beer. It had no drunks, no piano bar, no topless dancers and no loud music.

"Tomorrow is first contact, Villie. Do you think you should come with me?" Justus Tower asked.

"Don't go getting cold feet on me, Justus! This Guy is simple. Two of us might confuse Him. Besides, this is your hour to shine! If you can get the country through this without all of us burning in hell or starting a nuclear war, you'll have another star. I can almost guarantee it. The more they are worried about something the more generous they are when it comes to passing out stars. You'd look good as a Major General." Veemer chuckled as he polished off another beer. He caught the bartender's eye and ordered two more, ignoring the fact that General Tower had finished only half of his first one with another full glass parked right behind it. General Veemer drank beer. General Tower had a perpetual limit of two.

"Do you think He is really who they say He is? Do you think that could really be happening?" Tower asked, taking a ceremonial sip.

"Don't even go there, Tower. Galter and Foorda went there, and look at them now. Definitely don't take the conversation tomorrow into those waters. I think you should sneak up on this Bird. Take it easy. The mistake everyone is making is that they assume He is some kind of con man, that He is here to take advantage of us somehow. I don't think that is the case." Veemer replied pensively.

"If that isn't the case, what do you think is the case?" General Tower asked.

"To tell you the truth, I don't think Jesus Robeles has any idea what happened to Him. I also don't think He has any idea about what He is going to do. Hell! I don't think He even knows what He is supposed to do! He is just some spun out Amazon jungle bunny Who's got His fanny caught in something He doesn't understand at all. For Christ's sake, He didn't even know enough to answer the phone! Damned Secret Service thought that the Fundies had got to Him, blown Him away or something. They had the whole Watergate on red alert just because this monkey is standing there with the phone ringing, didn't know enough to pick it up!" Veemer was laughing.

"Villie, I don't think this is going to be a repeat of that guy -- the Ambassador from Zumgimmi, the one who flew in with goats and half naked women to meet the President. State couldn't send in their Pygmalion crew to civilize the Man because of diplomatic sensitivities. It's my opinion that we have the same problem here. Robeles can read and write. I think His lawyer taught 'em to use the bathroom and wear clothes, and from what I've heard, both of them are perfect gentlemen. They just don't know anything." The conversation stopped for a few moments, the General Tower continued. "What exactly did you mean when you said that about Him knowing what He's supposed to do. That makes me wonder if you think He's getting orders from somewhere. Why did you say that?"

"Here's all I meant by that. I don't know if He is Who He says He is, but let's not go strategic just yet with this mission. It's time to be tactical, not strategic. What if He is the Son of God? If we knew that, what would it do for us? If we knew that what are we going to do with it? Expect Him to act like the Bible? I only want to emphasize to you that He can be the Son of God, not to say that I believe that, but if He is, it would be a tactical mistake to expect Him to act like the stories in the Bible. If He is the Son of God, Justus, the tactical situation is unquantified. And it is a tactical situation. What you need to do is establish some kind of rapport, not to mention good relations with Him." General Veemer gently grasped Justus Towers forearm to drive his point home.

"I've thought about that, Villie. I'm not exactly a devout Christian. What if He wants to convert me or something like that?" General Tower asked.

Veemer stood up. "I'm pulling out now. Got a busy schedule ahead tomorrow. You should try to get some sleep yourself."

"I'll give you a call after our meeting." General Tower said distantly.