The five chapters of Behind the Sunset Veil that complete the tale of the Aristotle Event have been withheld from online publication. The remaining chapter, which is essentially an epilogue that sets up the subplots for Den of The Ender and Seven Moons Deep, will be serialized, beginning with Book Mark 1 below.

Smoot had done a good job going out to Nevada and interviewing Ewing Hanks, AKA ‘Pudge,’ the scumbag outlaw biker who was the webmaster for Ironhorde.com and responsible in part, for Jay Bracken’s dubious fame. The kid in Singapore would have to wait. The Frederick Maryland police officer’s son had been the key, the source who gave up Pocahontas. For this interview Joan would have to be present. She and Smoot would go engage the old lady and the Amerindian ring card girl woman-to-woman, without a government I.D., or goon, in sight.

This is personal. You are looking for the father of your son and will be seeking him by way of making contact with an obvious girlfriend.

As Smoot drove them out I-270 to Frederick Joan touched her own belly. She had uncharacteristically begun wearing dresses even though, three months into her pregnancy, she was barely beginning to show. With her first child she was not supposed to be showing until her fourth month. Indeed she still had less of a belly than most non-pregnant 20-year-olds, but she had been an athlete all her life and felt the welcome weight with her every breath. She felt wonderful, had not been sick at all. She was contented, was happy and had a new sense of purpose, as if she were embarking upon a new life.

You have a good partner here. You can’t let your relationship with her bud too soon. She

should become a good friend first, then you can just let it happen.

Of course, seducing Smoot at her age could be traumatic and would be unprofessional besides. I want a woman though. I miss Tina and all of my time is dedicated to the project.

The project comes first. The lover will come. Smoot will be a platonic asset.

I miss him.

He is the enemy.

I miss him.

He’s an animal!

Yes, and I miss him!

Wong says it is just an engineered chemical attraction.

I don’t care. I miss him.

He’s gone God only knows where and you’ll never find him in your day dreams.

Smoot’s voice drew her from her battle with her conscience, “Agent Henderson, I would like to thank you for having me assigned to Project Y.F. Seven [such had the search for Jay Bracken been christened by the ever-categorizing Major Foote]. This is a great opportunity for a forensics’ specialist—to work outside of my specialty; to be a field agent! This is awesome.”

Be nice. She wants to belong.

“Honestly Smoot, you are the first FBI person I did not want to shoot on first-impression. Just remember to keep everything in that pretty head of yours. We don’t take notes, we don’t have friends, and we don’t even exist.”

The young woman was ecstatic, “Yes ma’am!”

This ma’am stuff is killing me.

“Smoot, we are out in the world now and will be interacting with real people who do not address each other according to rank and sir name, or as ‘ma’am’. We should henceforth be Lana and Joan, Jay Bracken’s middle-aged girlfriend and her ever-helpful niece on the hunt for Aunt Joan’s baby’s daddy.”

Lana, without much sexual experience, having come to the FBI through a Christian University, was obviously attempting to wrap her head around what had happened to Joan in the slot cell. Furthermore, as an educated member of law enforcement, Lana did not, like most lay people, equate rape with sex, but rather with violence.

Joan had been upfront with her associate about her interaction with Jay—short of admitting that she was infatuated and possibly in love with the psychopath—in hopes of forging a bond with the young woman. It had had the desired effect, taking the girl’s admiration for an older female authority figure in the intelligence community and rendering it into personal loyalty by the judicious admixture of compassion for a female colleague raped in the line of duty.

“Joan, how did you deal with that? How are you dealing with that?”

“Dealing with it while it happened was not difficult because I had no options. He was overpowering and was not treating me as a combatant but as a sex object. He had been ripping men apart for weeks. Fighting would have been a ludicrous mistake. I had become brutally objectified; could sense that I would not be murdered. I just held on and protected my head. The most painful part was having my back skinned on the concrete. But I’ve always been a tom girl.”

“How are you dealing with it now?”

I have to be open to develop her loyalty beyond the realm of professionalism.

She found herself unconsciously touching her little pooch while Lana thoughtfully waited. This struck her as absurd and she smiled as she decided to unburden herself.

“I’m infatuated with him, Lana. Sure, it really was an attack. I had intended to seduce him, not letting him take what was being offered. I was bait and I knew it, and paid the price. But I’m pregnant Lana! At forty-nine I’m pregnant for the first time. It was also the first time I ever had a coital orgasm and I liked it. Does that sound wrong to you Lana?”

Knowing that her associate was possibly horrified by that last revelation she looked to her questioningly for an opinion as they pulled off of the interstate. Lana paused before merging with local traffic and looked into her yes with compassion.

“Joan, you know that I am a Christian and you know that I don’t let my beliefs distort my professional opinion. But personally I think your pregnancy is a miracle, your rape a sacrifice. The fact that you may have enjoyed particular aspects of the act itself does not take away from the fact that your social and moral standing as a human, a citizen, and a government operative, were all compromised. He took a lot from you. Don’t beat yourself up about the orgasm or the infatuation. In fact, since we are only five minutes away, I suggest you focus on those aspects of your interaction with him, if you are to pass yourself off as his concerned girlfriend.”

“You’re a smart girl, Lana. Thank you for being so understanding.”

Lana smiled as she made her way through town out into the suburbs. “You’re welcome ‘Aunt Joan’. How should we proceed once we get to Granny’s house?”

“I want you to get to know Granny—help her around the house—without asking any prying questions. See what she offers. Meanwhile I’ll commiserate with Pocahontas.”