Chapter 41: Back in the USA!

The sun had set while they were on the ground in Iceland. Since the plane flew faster than the sun moved across the sky, the party was treated to the sight of the sun rising again in the West where it had recently set. It would again be afternoon in New York when they arrived.

Unbuckling and getting out of her seat, Daria exclaimed, "I think I am going to lie down for a while. I might even be able to get a couple of hours of sleep before we land in New York."

"I think I'll join you," Tom said as he got up as well.

"Enjoy your rest," Mr. Singh said. "I will be here if you need me."

Tom and Daria walked back to the bedroom. They were surprised to see that not only had the bed been made, but all of the linens and towels were fresh. Their clothes were hanging in the small wardrobe and new toiletries had been placed in the bathroom.

"I could get used to this!" Tom exclaimed.

"Don't," Daria responded. "They are really rolling out the red carpet for us. This is the Secretary General's plane not ours."

"Good point," Tom responded as he finished changing.

The two slipped into the comfortable bed. After a quick kiss both were asleep.

41.2

Tom woke to the face of the Hildur - the female flight attendant. He asked somewhat incoherently, "What is it?"

Hildur whispered her reply, "Would you please wake the ambassador? We are just over a half hour from landing in New York and you need to take your seats and secure your seatbelts. I believe that Mr. Singh has some things he wishes to discuss with you as well."

"Certainly," Tom replied.

Hildur quickly exited the bedroom and shut the door silently.

Lying with her back to Tom and eyes tightly shut, Daria remarked, "Well Tom. There is your fantasy wake-up call! A hot Scandinavian woman urging you to wake up. Sure beats an old gray hag kicking you to get out of bed!"

"I thought the old gray hag was asleep," Tom replied.

Daria chuckled, "That is what I wanted you to think. I was aware of what was happening about the time she touched the door and entered."

Daria and Tom arose and quickly put on their suits. Mr. Singh had said that there was no press conference planned for their arrival in New York. So, no elaborate grooming was needed. The two walked forward and buckled into their seats.

"I trust you rested well," Mr. Singh stated.

"It was good to get some sleep. I for one slept quite soundly. I'll let Tom speak for himself," Daria replied.

Looking across Daria and the aisle Tom stated simply, "I slept well."

"Good," Mr. Singh started. "Now, I need to make you aware of a few things. First, our approach to JFK Airport will be rather unconventional. There are reports of someone with a possible rocket launcher in the area. Thus, we will have to take evasive maneuvers and avoid being a target."

Both Daria and Tom's eyes got very wide. "What?" Tom said with surprise in his voice. "In New York?"

"I am afraid so. Yes," Mr. Singh stated.

Daria came back with, "So fill me in on the details here. Why is there possibly someone out there with an anti-aircraft weapon targeting the Secretary General's aircraft, which just happens to have the Martian ambassador - me - onboard?"

Mr. Singh breathed in and began, "Well, the thing we have not discussed in detail is the opposition to Mars and the growing opposition to the United Nations in general."

Daria interjected, "Earlier you mentioned the opposition in the General Assembly. Countries do have the reputation of diplomatic pouting and tantrums. Sort of like two year old children."

Mr. Singh continued, "Yes. Also, there are a few on the lunatic fringe - both right and left - looking to stop what is going on. While not part of any state, these people could be encouraged by bad actors."

"Opposition alone should not be resulting in some guy with a rocket launcher," Tom stated.

"True," Mr. Singh replied. "However, there are larger entities out there than the Martian Republic which have not received even observer status in the General Assembly. They are genuinely jealous of Mars. Some of these groups are armed resistance movements that are recognized by some governments. We may be seeing a result of that."

"Great," Daria said. "Let's hope they have bad aim!"

As Daria finished her sentence the pilot came on over the speakers and told everyone to tighten their belts and hold-on.

41.3

The plane was still traveling at Mach 1.5 when it started to rapidly descend. The pilot made a couple of sharp turns as they descended. Tom and Daria both felt the seatbelts dig in a little bit. This plane may have begun life as an airliner, but like Concorde before it this plane had flying capabilities not unlike a decent jet fighter!

Tom looked out the window. He could see the ocean surface coming up pilot continued making a series of turns. He also was now changing altitude. From what Mr. Singh had just said Tom assumed that these were part of the pilot's evasive maneuvers. Still, Tom was glad that their last meal was several hours ago. In his mind he thought that maybe instead of 'last meal' he should think of it as his 'most recent' meal. Of course after being married to Daria for going on half a century a certain amount of cynicism had indeed rubbed off!

Daria was never a big fan of riding roller coasters. Right now she felt as if she was on one. The changes in direction and height were very uncomfortable. Just like being locked into a roller coaster car she was locked into the seat on this plane. No getting off until the ride was over! Also, keep hands and feet inside! Well, she could hardly open a window and stick out any appendages. Maybe that was the difference here. There was no flow of air over her face. It also crossed her mind that when they were reentering Earth's atmosphere - a bumpy ride certainly - at least no one was trying to shoot at them.

The plane dropped to subsonic speed as they approached the coast. The pilot continued to try to minimize the view anyone on the coast could have of the aircraft. They were now flying at about 500 m (1,650 ft) above the ocean's surface.

Daria watched out the window. The ocean went by quickly. A couple of times she thought she saw a ship, but they were moving fast enough that details were blurry. The only clear things she could really see were a gray horizon and whitecaps on waves. Then suddenly the shoreline appeared and they were over city streets in the blink of an eye. The pilot made a hard left bank. Daria felt a little disoriented. There were no landmarks that he could identify looking out the window. It was just one set of buildings and streets streaking by after another. The pilot made a hard right and moments later a hard left. They were still moving fast, but Daria could tell they had slowed down some. Maybe their speed was an illusion, since they were so close to the ground.

The pilot lined up with runway 4 Left at JFK Airport. But, he was coming from the Northeast rather than a more conventional approach out of the Southwest. This minimized their flying over park land, which could provide cover for a shooter. The co-pilot had announced that police had already used a swarm of drones to check their flight path over streets and buildings. At the airport cargo planes and trucks were being moved to block the view of the runway from nearby parks. Only Idlewild Park would have a view and the pilot had been told there was a drone swarm over it right now.

One of the advantages to being a UN plane was that it didn't belong to any one country. Thus, there was the opportunity to install non-standard systems on the aircraft. Since potentially the Secretary General could be flying to places with poor runways and questionable standards, the plane had been equipped with oversize ceramic composite brakes from Germany and a wheel guiding system from Russia. And there was a military grade missile detection system made in France. This plane was certainly up to the task ahead of landing hot and braking hard! Time to put this to the test.

The co-pilot turned to the pilot and said, "Sir, I am detecting a targeting radar off to our left."

Not taking his eyes off of the approaching runway the pilot responded, "Have they found us and do they have lock?"

"No sir. Not yet."

"Then call the number the police gave us and report what you have. We are low enough now they can cover us with a drone swarm."

The co-pilot responded, "Yes sir," and placed the call.

Daria felt the plane drop once more and it looked like they were going to clip the buildings below - even though she knew the pilot was not that low! The other thing she had never seen before was what must have been a hundred small drones taking up position near their plane. Even though the aircraft was flying far faster than the drones, there were always drones outside of her window. That made her wonder what was going on. Maybe the idea of someone with an anti-aircraft missile was true! Daria's began to slowly break into a cold sweat.

The pilot came on the intercom and announced. 'Get ready for landing. It will be a bit hard. Make sure you are sitting upright. This will be a war zone landing."

Daria straightened and placed her feet firmly on the floor. She had a death grip on the armrest with her now cold and sweaty hands. She saw Tom and Mr. Singh doing exactly the same thing. Time seemed to slow at that point. The hard bump of the wheels hitting the runway matched the hard pounding of her heart. Had she let out a yelp? The arthritis in her back certainly didn't like this! No one was trying to say anything to her or look at her. It was at just about the speed of that thought when she had to hang on and push herself into the seatback with her feet. The pilot had slammed on the brakes and deployed the thrust reversers at what seemed a very high level of power. The turn onto the taxiway was also rather sudden and seemed to be fast as well. As they turned Daria looked past Tom and could see several large cargo jets lined up. After a wild ride that seemed to take forever, the taxiing to the UN hanger was interminable. Still, Daria just sat in her seat and waited.

How long had it been since she had stood in the aisle waiting for the door to open on an aircraft? Daria realized that the last time had been their final flight to Florida for the launch. For some reason time seemed to slow down whenever a plane arrived at a gate and everyone waited to get off. She thought to herself, 'This is hardly an ordinary plane! There are only three passengers. In fact, we have more crew than passengers on this flight!' Still, the wait for the hanger workers to bring stairs to the door seemed to take a long time. At most it was maybe three minutes.

Mr. Singh was the first to stand, "At the bottom of the stairs there should be a limousine waiting for us. We will join a motorcade to take us to the UN residence buildings."

"I just hope if there is a shooter out there that he is not on our route!" Daria deadpanned.

"Not to worry," Mr. Singh replied. "We will avoid the most likely areas a shooter could hide and the route will not be chosen until we are on our way out of the airport."

Tom asked, "Isn't there a pinch point where we leave the airport? Why couldn't the shooter just watch that exit?"

"We have police drones and actual police helping. The lines of sight will be blocked as we drive through. I do not think this will be a problem. Also, we have a duplicate vehicle in the motorcade and our limousine is armored. Three security vehicles, a decoy, and us."

Tom nodded, "Sure we shouldn't just go over to the rental counter and rent a car? Or maybe take a bus? It certainly would be less conspicuous."

"I understand your concern," Mr. Singh replied. "But rest assured we are going to be fine. UN Security and the NYPD know how to handle these things. Now let's go. Oh, and the crew will bring your bags and load them into the car."

41.4

While Daria was settling into the luxuriously padded seat of the limousine she couldn't help but find the smell of fine natural leather almost overwhelming. This was certainly a smell they did not have on Mars. Still, she couldn't help but think that the cushy surroundings didn't make up for the fact that someone out there wanted to shoot them. With a shoulder fired missile no less! So much for thinking that this would be a fairly straight forward job. Daria had met diplomats before and found their ability to be two-faced and still live with themselves amazing - but not in a good way! Now she was swimming in that cesspool. Exactly how did she let herself get talked into this? At the moment a retirement of sitting on the porch in a rocking chair awaiting the Grim Reaper looked pretty good! If nothing else it might stave off the Grim Reaper for a while. Daria barely felt the car move as they drove off. She noticed that Tom had just leaned back and closed his eyes. Daria took Tom's hand, did the same, and prayed their drive would be uneventful.

Daria opened one eye. She had the feeling that they were traveling rather fast. This was New York after all and traffic was supposed to be slow. The flashing lights revealed the story. Their police escort was forcing the traffic to the side of the road. Clearly this motorcade was not going to stop for anybody or anything. Cars gave way. Stoplights gave way. They sped along the street with relative ease. As they approached the Secretary General's gate to the UN Headquarters complex a man dressed in a military uniform wearing a blue helmet saluted and held open the gate in the long and tall fence as they entered the plaza. The fence was probably three meters (ten feet) tall. It was made of beautiful wrought iron with images hand crafted along the way. These images were of great world heritage sites. Some even called the fence, "Wonders of the World." It was notable to Daria, however, that every upright on the fence ended in a very sharp point. Indeed as she looked, Daria noticed that they were not just points. These were barbs like on a hunting arrow! Anyone foolish enough to try and climb the beautiful fence would not only be impaled at the top, but probably would lose a limb or organ in the process of being rescued.

Tom leaned over and whispered to Daria, "Well, this certainly doesn't look like I remember it."

"No kidding," she replied. "When they razed the 12 blocks during the expansion in 2040 it greatly expanded the size of UN Plaza."

Mr. Singh turned around and remarked, "I could not help but overhear. Getting rid of all of those old buildings really made the Plaza more beautiful. Plus, if you look to your right, you will see the two 40 story buildings and the 60 story building that were built to house all of the diplomats and the missions. Notice how each of the curved, mirrored facades reflects the gardens, the Headquarters Building, and the river. Did you know that in the gardens there is at least one flower native to every member nation? It is truly a beautiful walk from the towers over to the General Assembly. Even in the winter it is kept beautiful. The best view is from the top of the Friendship Building. The Secretary General lives in the penthouse and has a commanding 360 degree view of New York! I believe he is planning a reception for you, ambassador. It will be a great opportunity to see it!"

Tom asked, "Who are in the penthouses on the other two buildings?"

"Ah," Mr. Singh replied. "That in and of itself was a great feat of diplomacy by the Secretary General. Those penthouses are evenly divided between the permanent members of the Security Council. It never ceases to amaze me how countries can fight over minutia like children over who has the most ice cream in their cone!"

Tom nodded his head as they pulled up to the entry of the Southern most 40 story building. Even up close the facade appeared to be an unbroken mirror. The driver jumped out and immediately opened Daria's door. She swung her legs out and stood. It actually felt good to stand and stretch for just a moment. All that time in seats got to be a bit much. She hated to admit it, but all of the space travel and living on Mars the past few years had put exercise into her daily routine and she missed it!

As they walked toward the building, the automatic doors slid sideways to provide a break in the otherwise perfect surface. Daria could see inside into what appeared to be an opulent lobby. As they passed into that lobby Daria looked around. The place was breathtaking. The floors were clearly polished marble. The walls were paneled with light and dark woods. Patterns that that were various types of trees were inlaid into the wood in what appeared to be ebony. The main chandelier was clearly gold and crystal. The prismatic effect of the crystals created tiny rainbows on the white marble. There were 2 uniformed doormen, one on each side and discretely standing far enough away to ensure the privacy of the group, but close enough that if they posed any kind of a threat, then the response would be immediate. The gold doors of the four elevators were directly ahead.

They entered the spacious elevator. The walls were a calm blue color. Mr. Singh pushed the button for the 20th floor. As the doors closed Mr. Singh stated, "There are many facilities here for the residents and their guests. On the main floor there are meeting rooms of various sizes and a ballroom. Up on the 11th floor there is a complete gym and spa. You can have your hair styled there as well. That is all complementary for residents. I highly recommend their massages! You will also find a convenience store on 11 should you need a quick something and it includes a UN post office. Most residents have their groceries delivered. Deliveries come to the back and we have staff that brings it to you. U.S. Mail also comes to the back and is brought to you by staff daily. UN mail is delivered daily by the UN post office. Transportation and delivery of diplomatic pouches are arranged by individual governments. I truly do not know how you plan to handle those!"

The elevator arrived and they exited into yet another opulent corridor. The carpeting had the pattern of a Persian rug. Light flooded in from the back of the building. Looking in that direction, Daria noticed that the walls were solid up to about 2.5 meters (8.25 ft). Then there was glass for the remaining meter or so. As they walked along Daria admired the artwork hung at regular intervals depicting mostly pastoral scenes. The walls were a tasteful green. They presently arrived at the door to an apartment. Mr. Singh paced his hand on the door's handle. Daria could hear the door unlock and he simply pushed it open.

41.5

"Welcome home Ambassador!" Mr. Singh exclaimed as they entered the apartment.

The lights came on automatically. Looking around Daria saw what looked like a receptionists desk ahead of her in the beige colored room The top of the desk had the rich green pattern of malachite. In the wall behind the desk was a door. There was also a door in the wall to her left. To her right the entire wall had closet doors.

"Not a very big apartment," Daria deadpanned.

Mr. Singh chuckled, "Oh, this is just the reception area. If you would like to have a valet or receptionist, then you can hire one and have a workstation for that person. Let me show you your home office behind the desk." Mr. Singh stepped past the desk and opened the door.

Daria walked into the office and and gasped slightly as she was immediately struck by the view. The entire rear window was glass and it looked out onto the massive UN Plaza. She could see all of the parkland between the building and the UN Headquarters building. From the 20th floor the flowerbeds were beautiful carpets of color.

"I apologize that the view is not better," Mr. Singh stated. "Having only observer status you do not rate one of the better locations."

Daria turned and looked at him. She said in total deadpan, "When I think of the simple and cramped apartments Tom and I lived in during our younger years in this city, this is amazing. We felt ourselves lucky when we could finally afford an apartment that looked out onto the street and the building across the way. It was so much better than an alley filled with dumpsters. I assume I won't be watching people urinate in the garden beds."

With a look of horror on his face Mr. Singh replied, "Madame Ambassador. I assure you no one enters UN Plaza unless they belong here, are with a tour group, or are summoned by an ambassador or the UN Administration. What goes on out on the streets does not happen here. Certainly anyone committing such an offense would be handed over to the New York Police Department after receiving a good beating from the UN Police. We simply do not tolerate such things here!"

"How nice it must be to be isolated from the surrounding world," Daria deadpanned.

"Yes. Yes it is," Mr. Singh answered very sincerely. "I hope you will enjoy it as much as your colleagues do. So let us look at your apartment!"

The group walked out of the office and Mr. Singh opened the door to the apartment itself. Once again Daria was impressed as she walked in. It was clearly an open plan. The kitchen melded into the dining area, which in turn melded into a large living room. There were French doors in the far corner of the living room, which appeared to open into a hallway.

"So, this is one of the small apartments. It is only 230 square meters (2500 sq. ft.). That includes the office area. There are three bedrooms. The main bedroom is ensuite with a shower and whirlpool tub. There are 3 additional toilets in the apartment. One of those has a bathtub and one has a shower. Off of the living room there is a simple WC with just a toilet and sink. I believe the American term is a 'powder room' or something like that."

"You are correct," Tom stated.

The apartment was furnished lavishly in a very modern style. Clean lines. The chandelier above the dining table was modern and truly superb.

"You will pardon the furnishings. They belong to the UN. You may use them if you like, but most ambassadors want to furnish the apartments themselves. You will see that the UN provides a budget for new ambassadors to furnish their apartments. I will send you the names of the designers that many of them seem to prefer when acquiring furnishings for their apartments. Of course, the furnishings are yours when you finish your ambassadorial assignment."

Both Tom and Daria found the view breathtaking. The glass wall extended all along the apartment. When they went back and saw the main bedroom it too had a glass wall. Mr. Singh explained that transparency was controlled by sliding controls near the door. An inner coating could take sections of the wall from being as clear as crystal to totally opaque.

Tom commented, "Mr. Singh, you realize that for us it is rather jarring going from the austere furnishings on Mars to a rich, colorful, and textured environment such as this. Not to mention the view. On Mars our views were restricted either to monitors or relatively small windows, because of the need to maintain air pressure." In his own mind Tom thought, 'Even my mother did not buy furniture of this quality. And high quality furniture was something she insisted on in our home! Fortunately, our family was able to afford it.'

"Of course," Mr. Singh replied matter-of-factly. "I can understand. I am sure you will get used to it again, though. Maybe that is one of the benefits of remaining on Earth! Personally, I have done so much traveling for the UN that I do not have any real desire to expand to space travel. I will leave that to younger people and those like yourselves who are truly adventurous."

Standing in the bedroom they heard the doorbell chime. Mr. Singh quickly exited the room to open the door. He called back, "Your luggage has arrived. Would you like it brought to the bedroom?"

"Sure," Daria called back.

Two women in a uniform that Daria recognized as being used by lower level workers in the UN's employ wheeled in the bags carrying the remainder of the clothing Daria and Tom had received in Moscow.

"Certainly you are tired from your long journey. Would you care to have these women stay and unpack your bags for you and arrange your closets and drawers?" Mr. Singh asked.

Daria replied, "No. We prefer to do that ourselves."

Mr. Singh turned to the women and stated, "You are dismissed." They straightened their backs, nodded, and departed."

Turning to Daria and Tom, Mr. Singh extended his hand to each. Daria and Tom both shook hands with him. "It has been a pleasure meeting both of you. I am sure I will have the pleasure of working with you again. By the way, you will find that the beds are made and that there are some simple food items in the kitchen. The two restaurants between the buildings are open 24 hours per day if you prefer to dine out nearby. For any other needs you can summon a car simply by picking up the telephone in the front office area. A concierge is on duty 24 hours to take care of any needs. You can arrange meal delivery or groceries through the concierge as well. Oh, and there are UN credit cards for each of you in the center drawer of the front desk in the office area. Have a relaxing evening!" Mr. Singh departed.

Walking to the office area and watching Mr. Sigh depart, Tom remarked to Daria, "Well, we are back in New York. Does that mean we should act like newlyweds?"

"Sure," Daria deadpanned. "As long as by acting like newlyweds you have in mind getting into bed and going to sleep. I am surprised I have not simply collapsed. This has been a long day or so. I am not even certain I know anymore. My circadian rhythms are so messed up I feel like asking, 'What planet is this?' I think it is Earth, but clearly the UN is no low budget operation. I think the opulence and style of this organization and place would impress even your mother!"

"I have to agree on that," Tom said. "But, the Revised UN Treaty gave them a great deal more autonomy of action and considerably more funding. I guess this is how they choose to use it. We flew here on a supersonic jet. We drove here in a motorcade. We find an apartment with loaner furniture nicer than even most of the antiques in the Sloane family collection. The challenge for us will be to not get swept away by it all. We are here to represent Mars' interests and we have to focus on that."

Daria walked over, put her arms around Tom's neck and kissed him. "Welcome home Mr. Sloane," She said. "Even if I have the odd feeling that not all is as it seems."

"Welcome home Dr. Sloane," Tom responded. He leaned down, kissed Daria, and went on, "I am as exhausted as you. It is evening here. Maybe we should just have a quick bite of whatever is in the kitchen and go to bed. Even if we get up really early at least we will be rested."

Daria nodded agreement. Holding hands the two walked into the kitchen.