“Madame Secretary, delegates, people of the world! I urge you to look into your hearts. Understand that our daughters and our sons will be better than we are. Do not hate them for it. Love them for it, and vote for this measure which grants them the rights and freedoms they deserve every bit as much as you do yours!”

There was wild applause, then, and as the camera zoomed back, Kade saw that it was from the observation galleries, to the sides of the Assembly, where people were standing, clapping ferociously, whistling.

And also from the Assembly itself, where there were at least twenty delegates on their feet, applauding.

And applause in this room in Bangalore as well, everyone clapping and cheering, every mind exulting.

Kade whooped and clapped and laughed. There were tears in his eyes, he found.

There was no chance it would pass, of course. Too many nations would be afraid of pissing off the US and China. And even if it did pass the Assembly, the US would veto it in the Security Council.

But this, this moment, with delegates of twenty countries on their feet applauding.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, felt Ananda’s mind behind him.

“You’ve done well, young man,” his teacher told him.

Kade laughed. He’d been just a tiny part of it, just the irritation in the oyster.

Ananda picked up on the thought.

None of that, my boy. You did a very good thing, and that’s the end of it.

Kade turned and grinned. Around them, drinks were being passed out in celebration. Musicians were taking their places. This would soon become a full blown party.

“Thank you, Ananda,” he said out loud. “Now I have a question.”

The eminent Buddhist scholar and neuroscientist raised an eyebrow.

Kade grinned wider. “Do monks dance?”

Sam cheered through the speech. There were tears in her eyes.

Jake. Jake would have loved to see this moment. He would have loved to see the kids safe here. To see even this voted-down gesture acknowledging the humanity of Sarai, and Kit, and Aroon…

Oh Jake.

She raised her glass of ice water, toasted the moment, clinked glasses with those around her.

Yet she was who she was. And so some part of her never stopped watching, never stopped taking stock.

And so she noticed when a man twitched, not far from Kade, at something the Indian Ambassador said. Youngish. Clean shaven. His smile looked pained, forced.

She noticed that another man, in uniform, was watching the crowd even more intently than she was, a smile on his lips, but cold calculation in his eyes: General Singh.

And she noticed that the youngish man who’d twitched made an early, nervous exit from the event.

Sam memorized his face for later.

Then she did her very best to enjoy the night.

For the children.

And for Jake.

40
The Pawn Seldom Knows

Tuesday 2040.11.19