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David's Contribution: New Friends - Chapter 5
"Lots of people tried that tactic." Eric was listening and reacting to progress reports at the Lihue estate board meeting on a grant the quantum trust had made to a University in South Wales, Australia.
"That's for sure," replied Bryan, "and at the same time, no one had thought to have a classical computer share the error-correcting overhead computing burden so the quantum part could proceed with its business. We're beginning to think outside the box about supercooled superconductors. These scientists and others are pressing ahead with room temperature superconductors which theoretically exist, though not made with silicone, but graphene, a carbon-based material which treats electrons differently at different temperatures than silicon, governed by how the thin graphene sheets are folded, oddly enough."
Bryan went on, "It may be possible to build quantum computers after all without the huge expense and technological prowess of a huge IT company or university lab supporting the huge dive in temperature to near-zero temperatures so that spin states of photons or electrons or whatever can be measured."
"As the atoms and molecules move around less in super-cold temperatures, they become more stable."
"Theoretical bases for this idea have been published now," said Bryan. He finished describing the progress toward the goals of that grant and showed the men present the dots on the graph that overlay expected progress. Randy asked if any company had actually made a quantum computer yet.
"Yes," answered Bryan, "IBM among others has a cloud quantum computer available for members of the public to access by internet to solve problems, for example."
Bryan told the group that the grant had facilitated major progress toward a room temperature quantum computer. He told them that meant vast social problems, including social justice problems could be monitored and tracked easily, making the world a safer place at, perhaps, some cost in personal privacy.
"How are the other grants performing, Bryan?" asked Eric.
"We have 71 grants all on schedule, 5 should be at completion in 2 months with a final report out within the required 4 months."
"Nice work, Bryan."
"Thank you, Eric."
"Let's bring this board meeting to a close. I declare it adjourned and move ex post that we all jump in the pool.
The splash of water sounded as bodies dived and jumped. Within a few minutes all the men had climbed out and were sun drying on the pool deck while footmen passed around light refreshments and tonic water with lime juice. The limes were grown on the property. The secret to the drink that made it more popular was the addition of jiggers of fresh-squeezed orange juice from the navel orange trees in Lihue and Meyer Lemon juice.
Couples headed to the bedrooms to begin their playtime.
Eric, astride Bryan's face, brought Randy's face to his as Randy fucked Bryan and the enormous volume of pleasure nearly sunk all of them. The fuck, the kiss, the anal pressure and pleasure, the intimacy of touching and rubbing skin, loving, the expressions of pleasure, the requests for continuation or a change...all brought it home for the trio.
When Randy shot his load into Bryan, Eric took over and thrust inside Bryan on top of his back, having mounted and covered him a little like a stallion covers his mare. Bryan knew Eric was in control since Eric's cock filled him so deep and stretched him so far Bryan couldn't have escaped the rest of the process had he wished.
Eric's strong arm and forearm at the elbow came around Bryan's neck, tugging it up and holding Bryan in the exact slightly raised position Eric wished.
Bryan submitted, loving that he had no real choice in the matter. He had been detained...both in his mind and body... Eric brought him to a state where pleasure and pain were nearly indistinguishable.
During this mastery, Randy stood watching, excited, stimulating his cock. Eric was surprised to hear Randy's next words. .
"Eric. Stop."
Eric stopped and looked up with a raised eyebrow. "Come out of Bryan."
Eric pulled out. "Bryan, scoot over."
Randy, now on his back on the bed, pulled Bryan on top of him with Bryan facing toward the ceiling far above. Eric caught on after Randy pulled Bryans legs up and thrust his cock into Bryan again. Eric moved in on top of Bryan and inserted his own cock into Bryan carefully alongside Randy.
In Harbin, a city in the north of China, the twins Bai and Hui Li, now eleven years old, walked into a giant ice sculpture. The city, one of the coldest cities in China, was home to their father's parents and they had traveled to Harbin from Beijing the week before to visit, pay their respects and play in the snow.
Inside the icehouse, the thick walls prevented traffic noises once they had walked into the inner rooms at least. They sat on an ice bench and enjoyed some hot tea from a thermos grandmother had given them as she waved them off to play. Bai noted the sound first.
He thought that a flock of birds was flying overhead perhaps, then realized that the sound was growing louder. "Hui, what's that noise?"
Hui had already run to the outer door of the icehouse and stepped out its front door. The huge crowd running down the street carried him with it. Bai yelled, but couldn't hear himself over the screaming crowd. "Hui, come back!"
Bai searched for many hours. No one could tell him where his brother was. He stopped to look at a television in a shop telling the story of the military parade, a favorite totalitarian entertainment, in the large square in Beijing where one of the rockets being driven through the square had exploded by accident, leveling much of the city. He thought of his parents and made a beeline for his grandparent's home.
Hui awoke in a hospital. He hurt all over and what he heard next terrified him. "The boy has crush injuries and Dr. Lin is considering amputating his legs." The nurses were discussing a case near the door of his room; they were gossiping about his roommate. Hui had no way of knowing that, reached down to his legs, moved them, lifted both off the thin mattress, and froze.
He didn't remember his name. He didn't know where he had come from. He lay still for about ten seconds before he began to scream.
Bai returned, finally, to his grandparent's home. He heard wailing inside.
"What will we do?" sobbed his grandmother. "We have lost our son's gifts now. How will we feed two extra mouths?"
"Calm yourself," his grandfather had brightened at the sight of Bai's return, then lifted his eyebrows at Hui's downcast face.
"Nai nai," he informed his grandmother, "I have lost Hui." She sat in a wooden chair, staring out over the table.
She looked at Bai and began to scream. "You have brought bad fortune to this house. Your father and mother are dead. Beijing is flattened by a bomb. You have lost your brother Hui."
"Get out! Get out! Take your evil and go!"
Bai fled, his world upside down.
As suppertime approached, Bai knew two things. He must eat and he must find a warm place for the night. He walked back to his grandparent's home and quietly looked inside a window. His grandparents were already asleep in the other room; he quietly tried the door. It was bolted.
He quietly brought a large rock to the window and standing on the rock, was able to open the window just enough to squeeze into the room and shut the window. He found a bag by feel and filled it with food. He found a warm coat on a hook and put it on. Just then he heard alarmed voices in the next room. He slipped to the door, unbolted it, and ran.
Bai slowed his pace to look normal after sunset and walked down to the bakery. He knew the area well enough to know that baking for the next morning would begin at midnight and knew that the warmth of the ovens could shelter him if he could get inside somehow.
He jammed his hands into his pockets and found coins. That was a surprise to him since he had arrived with none and realized his grandfather or perhaps even his grandmother had put the coins into his warm coat, maybe expecting him to return and find the coat.
He had no way to know his grandfather had already expressed his anger at his grandmother for her actions that day. "Aiya. Our son is dead, and you threw out his son! The crowd must have swept Hui away and separated him from Bai. I lost so much of my family in one day. No! You must fix it!"
Bai bought a roll at the bakery and when the baker wasn't watching walked into the back into a very dark corner behind many barrels of flour. The room was very warm. He eventually slept on the hard floor.
Hui had already left the hospital. He peeked around his door and when the nurses were not visible to him, he simply walked out the door. He walked to his grandparent's home and knocked on the door. His grandmother burst into tears. "Oh Bai, I was wrong to send you away!"
Hui stiffened. "I am Hui. Where is my brother?"
He watched as his 'nai nai' fainted.
The Chinese ambassador to Washington had spent a difficult day trying to get instructions from his government. He managed it through intermediaries, but not efficiently.
All because the 'bèn dàn' tribal fool hardliners who ran the Party had decided to ruin China and the ambassador's life too.
One request from a prominent bank in China (American bank) surprised him. The President of the bank asked him to lunch, indicating he wanted to ask a favor. The ambassador was accustomed to similar requests in different circumstances and knew that there would be an exchange of gifts for the favor. He couldn't wait for a nice, positive gift. It was time for a positive development in his life.
Over really good Italian food near Dupont Circle and after two drinks, he was feeling mellow. The President of Schuyler Bank had brought him to a high-class restaurant, and he had enjoyed the meal. "Can you help me access Chinese citizen records? I am looking for Hui and Bai Li, twins, age 10, sons of a Schuyler Bank employee killed in Beijing. The owner of Schuyler Bank wants to spend whatever is needed to find them and fund their life and education since their father and mother are dead."
The look on the ambassador's face was fleeting, but the banker didn't miss the momentary look of surprise. "Of course, I will personally search for the boys and call you this week."
"I am thinking of one million USD per boy as a gift to help you rebuild your capital. Can you help to facilitate their adoption to the owner of the bank if found?"
The ambassador's face, all thoughts of diplomacy aside, showed signs of real interest now. "I feel adoption would be a more complex, lengthy affair..."
"If the gift is increased perhaps, how much might it take to facilitate the immediate adoption of both boys to a very wealthy household, respected globally?"
"For five million dollars in cash for each boy, I can guarantee immediate leave from China as soon as they are found. You would need to make the appropriate representations to your government to facilitate entry to the U.S. for permanent visas, probably a private bill in Congress, if I understand your system correctly."
"You have an excellent understanding, Mr. Ambassador. I will have the cash delivered in a FedEx package to your embassy addressed to you personally if you wish."
"We understand that the boy's grandparents may live somewhere in northern China and will perhaps need to be persuaded to give consent."
The ambassador made a mental note. He didn't think that would pose an obstacle. His own conglomerate had offices all over China with connections to another organization that tended to guarantee that ordinary people gave consent whenever asked.
That night, the ambassador made two telephone calls, both monitored by the NSA and recorded.
The first was to a government clerk in an obscure government department in Shanghai: Locate twins, age 11, Bai and Hui Li, grandparents possibly in northern China, father Li worked for Schuyler Bank, both parents dead in Beijing now. Reply personal to me at Wong Industries, Hong Kong. Grandparents will give any consent required. Consult Lu if needed.'
The second, to Mr. Lu in Dongguan was nearly identical.
Bai figured his brother would show up at the Red Moon cafe sooner or later. He walked there the next day and gave a note to the supervisor of wait staff there along with a coin, asking her to give the note to Hui if he came in.
Bai knew that jobs for 11-year-old boys were scarce. He walked about the city until he found a street vendor, nearly blind. He introduced himself as a worker who needed full or part-time work. "I can be your eyes. I can heat food or cool it. I can tell you when customers approach and keep you from being cheated out of correct change."
The vendor had worried about his lack of clear vision and was actually relieved to hear the clear voice of a kid that sounded honest to him. He quizzed him about his background and figured that helping an indirect victim of the Beijing blast was a good thing.
The vendor sold sausage sticks and dumplings on the Zhongyang Pedestrian Street in Harbin. He had been there for 3 years, had a respectable reputation on the street, and a new vocal kid drawing in interested crowds. "Dumplings here! Best lamb sausage sticks in Harbin! Get your hot dumplings here! Step right on up, folks!"
The hypnotic clear voice did draw more customers in; the vendor, delighted with the increased volume of business, was generous to Bai. He paid him well and asked him to work full-time with him from 5 am to 9 pm each day.
"Where are you staying, Bai?"
"I found a warm place to sleep in the back of a bakery."
The vendor hissed in alarm. "No, you will come to my house. My wife has a small, warm bed in the back room for you and she is a good cook and will do your washing too."
Hui didn't ever go to the Red Moon again. Money was tight with the Beijing money cut off now. He was given coins from time to time and one day wandered down to the Zhongyang Pedestrian Street to eat a snack. He did hear his brother's voice and their reunion was sweet. Bai refused to come home.
"I was asked to leave for a problem not of my doing. I will not put myself into that position again."
Bai asked his brother to remember him. "I will be here every day for a long time. Find me if you need me. My wages are good. You are my brother still, so if you need me to share with you, it would be an honor for me."
Hui was back a week later. "There is news from Shanghai. Father's employer wants to see us. He has sent money for us to meet him in Shanghai and from there to America. Bai gasped as did the street vendor. This was unheard of in that street in Harbin.
A customer quickly spread the story down the line in back of herself. "Be careful they don't eat you," she said to the boys. "I have heard they don't have dumplings there and their lamb sausage cannot compare with our vendor here."
Another customer shook his head warily.
"Ask for a return ticket as well in case of trouble. You will need a passport and a visa. If you talk to the Shanghai people, get copies of all documents and keep them in a money belt. Pick pockets are everywhere in the world except China of course," he added, glancing to each side to check for any Party officials that might be around.
The street vendor nodded.
"This sounds like good advice. You will be missed but must not think of missing opportunities in life. They don't show up often."
Bai and Hui stopped by the vendor's home to get Bai's things, precious few of them. At their grandparent's house, Bai stood in the front yard and stiffly accepted the goodbye wishes of his grandparents. They handed him the messages and money from Shanghai, the trip itinerary, and then the twins caught a taxi to the train station.
The train trip was endlessly fascinating to the twins. They were careful to guard their belongings and papers and enjoyed train life, train food, and sometimes the scenery. In Shanghai, they were surprised at how different it was than Beijing had been...more modern and so many tall buildings under construction.
They took a taxi from the train station to a bank called the Schuyler Bank. They had a name and a date and time to meet with someone.
Entering the bank, Bai and Hui met a security guard who smiled inside and gravely introduced himself.
"My name is Huan. How may I be of service to you, gentlemen?"
"My name is Bai Li. This is my twin brother Hui Li. We are from Beijing, most recently from Harbin after the Beijing disaster, our father worked for Schuyler Bank and was killed along with our mother. We have an appointment with a man here." It might have been his longest speech to date. Bai handed the card to Huan.
"May I see your identification cards, please?"
Huan was satisfied and handed the cards back to the twins.
Huan picked up a telephone and spoke with someone.
"The elevator you need is Number 15 on the left side at the end. When you enter, ask the elevator guard to take you to Floor HH."
The elevator guard did just that. The elevator shot up like a bullet out of a rifle. The trip was very short, and their ears popped on the way.
The elevator guard took them to a large desk where a man sat. "You must be Bai and Hui Li." If you will sit on that couch for a minute, I'll make certain that you are announced properly."
After a very short wait, the secretary asked them to follow him to enormous, tall, wood doors with polished bronze handles. He opened the doors and announced the twins to the occupant, the President of the Shanghai branch of Schuyler Bank, a Chinese man, who shook their hands.
"I am pleased to meet both of you."
"Can I get you water or tea or a soda?"
"They both expressed interest in tea and the man sent for tea to be brought in."
After the refreshment, the President of the bank told them that the men who owned the Schuyler bank and the Schuyler Traders around the world had, of course, heard about the war in Beijing and the unfortunate death of their parents.
"Although he had nothing to do with the Beijing disaster, he feels that those who work for his company are a kind of work family and he wishes provide a place for you to live, funds for your life and education, and perhaps more."
"I don't know him well, but I have observed that he is a kind man, interested in doing the right things, and improving lives around him."
"This opportunity for you will neither erase the bad fortune that caused the death of your parents, nor restore your parents to you, but will go a long way toward easing the things that happened to you after the loss."
"My advice to you both is to proceed with Chinese dignity to meet with him and his personal family and friends, get to know him, be grateful in your acceptance of his kind offers of help and consider any other factors that might tie you to the Schuyler family, work or personal as it turns out."
"You are staying at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel here in Shanghai this evening and you should order room service brought to your room. There is a listing of the food and services. The room, the food, the services including the pool are free."
"If you need clothing such as a pool suit or a suit to go downstairs to the dining room to eat, call your concierge and ask for a valet to be sent up to measure you and bring a suit. Again, no charge to you.
"Do you have cell phones or an iPad?"
Seeing the puzzled faces in front of him, he guessed they did not. "The Bank will deliver two cell phones to you and a technical person to teach you how to use them tomorrow morning. They will be loaded with telephone numbers of people you may call if you have questions or need help and the addresses of your grandparents."
"We know that your grandparents have lost their source of income when you father died and that the street vendor who gave you work must do without you. You now have enough money to give some peace to those people who are important to you. Let me know how much you wish to give them after we talk about your money tomorrow. Enjoy your stay in Shanghai."
"I will see you again at 11 o'clock tomorrow morning right here."
Bai and Hui had a great time at the hotel. They ate, swam, explored and reviewed what they knew about American gangsters from the movies they had seen. Of course, they weren't afraid of anything. However, the thought did cross their minds, that possibility of needing to deal with the bad guys was delicious and terrifying on some level all at once. The butler of their suite knocked at 7 am the next morning and announced breakfast, wheeled in on a cart by two white-jacketed waitstaff looking very correct. Unknown to the waitstaff, they immediately became the model and ideal image for two 11=year-old twins.
During breakfast the butler announced a pretty twenty-something lady with packages. Their cell phones had arrived. They tried to be nonchalant for they had heard of cell phones before at school and seen them used in Beijing all the time. They hadn't been fortunate enough to actually own one.
The lady showed them how to use the cell phones and practiced some calls to a McDonald's downtown, setup emails for them, cautioned them not to open emails from people they didn't know, told them never to give their ID numbers to anyone they didn't know personally except government officials like police and customs people. She reviewed some of the apps and left satisfied they would learn the rest just like every other kid eventually does...from their peers and by practice.
At the bank by 11 am, the banker told them that each had $500K USD and gave them a debit card.
"Do not buy large items now. This is for living expenses. Buy lodging, food, clothing, transportation. This is not for gifts to officials or relatives or friends. Have you decided what amounts you wish to have given to your grandparents??
Bai was about to suggest 'zero', but Hui looked at him, pretty sure that he could read Bai's head about then.
"We'd like them to have 750,000 Yuan," said Hui. Bai gasped and his face went pale.
"It's what father would have wanted for his parents, Bai."
Slowly, color returned to Bai's face. "Perhaps."
The banker coughed, sensing the boy's struggle, not knowing the story, however.
Bai looked at the banker. "My brother is correct."
"How much do you wish to settle on the street vendor?"
The answer was immediate. "750,000 Yuan."
It was Hui's turn to gasp.
"It is what I want for the man who kept me from starving after my grandparents threw me out."
Hui looked at the banker. "My brother is correct."
The banker told them to relax. "The money does not come from your funds. It is a gift from the owner to those who have already helped before he could find you."
"The next few days," the banker continued, "will be needed to get an expedited passport and visa to the United States." This process will begin with a tourist visa which will either be converted or extended if needed."
"In the meantime, you should think about enrolling in an intensive English class here in Shanghai. A car will take you to school and you should practice faithfully, even in the night hours when you are awake. American English is very complicated. They use tone like we do, but in a much different way. Some of their words sound the same but mean different things. Some words come in phrases or groups of words that mean something entirely different than what the same words would mean if they were said or read alone."
"Often there are many words for the same thing. Most of the names of people do not have a meaning that is in the mind of the parent when given or the mind of someone who says that name."
"They have something called an alphabet, a list of 26 letters that make up all American English words. In addition, there are signs and symbols, characters which mean specific things, like '#' and '@' and ',' and '.' and more. You must learn the letters quickly. You must learn the '$' sign. It stands for dollar; it is the American equivalent of renminbi, or currency. One dollar is about the same as 7 Yuan right now.
"My secretary can give you the name and telephone number of a good tutor instead of going by car to a school. It will save you time and give you breaks in the pool and for meals, not a bad thing now that I think about it."
The banker called his correspondent bank in Harbin and arranged the money transfers the same day. He sent a copy to Eric and Randy via his global bank boss. The street vendor received a summons to a bank he hadn't heard of in Harbin the next day. The messenger told him to shut down his cart and take it to where it lived at night. The reluctant street vendor did so and followed the messenger.
At the bank, he was astonished beyond belief to be shown in to see the bank manager, a personage unknown to him, and further amazed to hear that he was rich.
"You may work if you wish, of course, said the bank manager. "On the other hand, you need not work anymore. You invested in a boy named Bai. A very important American man appreciates your kindness and wishes to make your life easier now. Here is the card to access your money. If you take out twice the money you previously earned at your cart each month, the remainder of the money will last until you die. Here is Bai's address should you need to contact him in the future."
Repeating the conversation to the twin's grandparents the next day, the bank manager told them that Hui had insisted they be rewarded for their kindness, pointedly leaving out Bai's reluctance."
"It has come to my attention," he said, "that the boys may stay in America. If they are adopted by the American who hired your son, you must give your permission. Do not withhold this permission if you are asked and do not ask for more money. These people are powerful, they have international connections, and you don't want to lose what you have or worse, your life and health. Just a word to the wise is sufficient."
These words resonated with them. The money helped.
When the passports and visas were ready, the secretary at the Shanghai office of the Schuyler Bank reserved first-class tickets from Shanghai to Tokyo and on to Portland, Oregon. The flight from Narita near Tokyo left in the evening and arrived some 9 hours later around 9 something in the morning local Portland time. They were accompanied by the bank secretary, a bilingual man with children of his own.
Eric and Randy had talked about how they might feel as 11-year-old kids speaking American English traveling to China for the first time.
"I would have liked someone along who spoke English and Chinese if it was me." Randy was sure about it.
"Why don't we arrange that?" said Eric. "I'd send Sweet Pea, but the kids would probably enjoy first-class seats and some airport time shopping and learning how most people fly."
Randy raised his eyebrows and gave Eric a look. "Most people..."
"You know what I mean, er, how some people fly? Hey, I flew Economy Class once."
Randy leaned over and whispered into Eric's ear. "I never had First-Class cock until you came along."
Eric's head turned so fast his neck cracked a little. "You like my cock?" he asked in mock surprise.
"It's not a 'like' thing exactly. It's more like a 'craving' thing I get every day."
"Are you by any chance 'craving' my First-Class cock right this minute?"
"Only one way to find out."
Neither Eric nor Randy as a general rule wore any threads to bed. This fact demonstrably shed seconds off the time it took for Randy to flip to his hands and knees, for Eric to nuzzle in and begin to chow down on Randy's ass and apply lube. Eric popped in, hearing a muffled exclamation from Randy..."Oh God... fuck me, lover, claim it, man...it's yours, Eric, take it!"
Eric was pleased to do just that and after a time emptied his balls deep inside his lover, his powerful hands interlaced as a net under Randy's face, supporting it upward, giving Randy Eric's hands to lick, nuzzle, and sniff, balancing Eric's own stance, two feet on the bed, his cock stroking, thrusting, filling, balls slapping, working hard, tensing, sending Eric's brain that wonderful message of imminent release of cum, then shooting, balls deep, the fruit, the seeds of life, into his lover's pulsating ass.
He loved to fuck and to do Randy was to be at home, deep in his own house, deeded to him by his lover, free to use as his own territory. Bryan's ass was a pleasure, but Randy's was his lover's gift.
Landing in Portland that Saturday morning the twins and the secretary saw two men eagerly watching with large signs 'Welcome Hui and Bai Li to Portland' and 'Welcome Huang to Portland', waving the signs on long handles with banners of red silk in a side-to-side arc like a half-moon and smiling. Large security guards stood on either side and behind them. The twins weren't sure what to think about the big guys but recognized the pictures they had already seen of Eric and Randy.
After introductions, they went out to the limousines while the baggage was being collected and the twins were introduced to what motorcades were like...nice long black cars, security vans, police escort with lights flashing...
The boy's first impression was how few people were around compared to China. Their second look showed a lot of green...lawns, trees, flowers, more tall trees, slow trains, a river or two, bridges, some men sleeping in tents near the street, wide streets, a few street vendors...
The motorcade stopped in front of a tall building in the 'Pearl District'. They stepped out to fresh air. There weren't as many smokers here. Everyone stepped into the building except the police escort who drove away. The security cars were driven away, some security guards met them, and a few went up the elevator.
Bai and Hui kept their eyes open, observing their new environment carefully, not afraid of being eaten now, as the woman in the street vendor's line had cautioned, but afraid of missing any cues as to the behavior expected of them.
They watched as Eric and Randy took off their coats and handed them to a footman. The twins did the same. The men then sat and asked if they wanted something to drink or eat. They politely replied through the secretary that they had eaten on the airplane, but water would be very nice. The secretary replied in Chinese, "Good answer, guys." Eric asked the footman to take the secretary and the boys to the rest of the house and give the tour, keeping in mind the possible differences between Chinese and American plumbing for the boy's information.
After they left the room, Randy looked over at Eric. "What was your first thought?"
"I thought they looked like normal kids who had lost their cues, trying to catch up quick. I think you and I had better get a Mandarin tutor and do some intensive basic Chinese right away."
"I'd love to hear what they have to say at supper tonight."
"You'll hear it, you might not understand it though."
"Wiseacre."
"Fuckster."
"Is everything in order for supper?" Eric winked at Randy just about the time the twins entered the room.
"Yeah."
"Did you guys find your sleeping rooms?"
A pause for translation..."they say they did and wanted to thank you both for the rooms and for the flight and your kindness and..."
Eric formed an idea about the same time Randy did. They wondered if the translator wasn't adding some flourishes to what they said. They had replied in a single syllable, after all.
The men said nothing, just smiled.
At lunch, the boys were still sleeping. By supper they looked hungry but a little anxious as to what they might find on the table to eat.
"We have a surprise for you tonight! We, of course, have the best lamb sausage sticks in the world right here in Portland and our dumplings are known world-wide."
This announcement caused a torrent of thought inside Bai's head. 'I don't think that's true. They haven't tasted the street-vendor's food in Harbin!'
A familiar voice rang behind him. In Chinese. "It's true, Bai. They have wonderful lamb sausage sticks and dumplings tonight. Some of the ingredients were a little tough to find here."
Bai whipped around and in a second was in the street-vendor's arms and the next, in the wife's embrace. He shook silently for a minute, then turned with a smile.
"Yes," he said, "I think they do."
The secretary, surprised as the twins, didn't appear to be as happy about the sight as Eric thought he might be.
The street-vendor and his wife stayed for six months, traveled back to Harbin, then returned to stay. The secretary went back to Shanghai reluctantly, but no one missed him.
Eric contacted his Senators in New York and Oregon and through them was able to have an intelligence assessment of the Shanghai bank staff. His intuition turned out to be correct. The secretary had two sources of income, one from Eric, one from an agency of the Chinese government.
Eric had him replaced with a Swedish lady who spoke fluent Chinese and English whose long experience as an executive secretary elsewhere gave her a 'don't mess with me' persona, precisely what Eric needed for this job.
Randy slipped into Eric's office a week later, shirtless and wearing board shorts. Eric looked up. "Hey big guy, Whaddya know?"
"I know I love you...well, I did yesterday when I thought about it. Not sure I've pondered it much today...yet."
"What would induce you to ponder it?"
"Looking at your handsome face is a great start, but I didn't come to bother you about what I always want. I just had some news and I wanted to share it. Do you remember that I told you I wanted to do the Ancestry thing? I ended up sending a sample in and got the results today."
"Get out of town!"
"Serious, I did, and they said I have a brother!"
"Nah, they didn't either."
"Swear on a stack. That's what it said. Here's the paper."
"It says 98% probability...does that mean there's a 2% probability that your brother is a sister or what?"
Randy laughed. "No, just that there's some guy out there with genes so close to mine that there's a 98% chance he's my real brother."
"Are you going to try to find him?"
"Haven't got that far yet. What do you think?"
"You have to try. You want to die someday thinking you could have talked to your brother? Aren't you curious to see if he looks like you or anything?" Eric went on to skirt the edge, "Hell, I want to know if there's another you. Who knows, if he's cute like you, I... "
"You might not want to finish that thought if you expect to see old age, lover. Actually, I'm not sure he'll answer."
"Answer what?"
"I found an entry on a social media site--the guy is younger than me, looks just like me, ya know, two eyes, one nose, hair, two ears, and a chin. Pretty much of a dead ringer, wouldn't you say?"
"Where does he live?"
"His bio says Springfield, IL. Who knows how current that is?"
"Schuyler Bank has a branch there. Why don't I call the manager of that branch and ask him to hire a good PI to nose around and take some pictures or something?"
"Couldn't hurt, I guess."
"Did you frisk him?
"Yes, sergeant."
"Read him his rights?"
"Yes, sir."
"Bring him on back to the holding cell."
The night in Springfield was cool, a little windy, and the perp was a slob who hadn't exercised in the last year, had run out of cigarettes, wanted some enough to struggle down the stairs and assault a passerby who was smoking, tried to punch him out when refused a cigarette to get him to the store a block down the street and got real tetchy with the cops when a cruiser happened to cruise past the fracas.
The cops had him for disorderly conduct, resisting arrest, assault and each of them wished there was a law prohibiting people like him swimming out of their depth in the gene pool. The driver of the squad car and his rookie finally got the guy into the back seat, cuffed and aggravated, the cops just aggravated.
"Not all the stops are this much fun, even, kid. Some are funner."
Tom Lisant turned to his mentor and asked him if the assaulted man would show in court to press his case.
"Not all of them do. We'll see, I guess. If he doesn't, that will make 12 this month. He might have to be at work that day or at mass or who the hell knows."
"Too bad we couldn't drop by the day before and offer him a ride to court. Might save us some time the next day if he refuses."
"Against policy, Tom. Street cops can't be seen to influence anything post arrest, nada! You can't even give a little old lady a ride to court if she calls and begs. It has backfired before and the Chief is really tired of backfires of any kind. This is an election year, remember."
"Yeah," said Tom, "I'll remember. Check. Hey, when do we get off shift?"
"At 7 pm just like always. Why?"
"You want to go out to the field and throw some baseballs?"
"Sure. Did you bring gloves with you today?"
"Yeah, 2 pair and my shoulders are itching to throw a few."
End of shift came, and they headed off to the baseball field at Lion Park. Neither of them saw the short man with the hat and briefcase. They certainly didn't see the powerful camera in the brow of his hat or the video he obtained.
Eric and Randy sat transfixed watching the video. Randy saw the guy he saw every morning in the mirror throwing baseballs pretty darn well. Eric saw the face of his lover on the video but not the body exactly. Many of the facial expressions were the same as Randy's.
"If we call Sweet Pea now, we can be in Springfield in a few hours. We'll sleep on board and trot down to the precinct tomorrow and ask the desk sergeant if we can talk to him." Eric had it all planned out.
"I'm not sure I'm ready for that."
"What will make you ready?"
"A strong shot of brandy maybe."
"No, serious, we can drink on the plane as long as the pilot doesn't. Otherwise, have you any idea how to meet the guy?"
"We could rob a bank, I guess, but that's a dangerous way to meet a cop, even if he is your brother," answered Randy.
"I agree. Let's just travel to him and introduce ourselves."
"What if he's homophobic or something?"
"What possible difference could that make. If he is, he is. After he meets you, I think he'll like you, at least, be curious to know you."
"What kind of a name is 'Tom Lisant'?"
"Probably the name his mother gave him."
"Wonder what my real last name is?"
"As long as you are you and you love me, you can be any name you choose?"
"Just get me close enough to pinch his ass and I'll tell you what's in a name," said Eric, skirting the edge again.
"You touch my brother, you die." Randy surprised himself by standing up for a guy he'd never met, brother or no.
"Ok, I retreat from that remark. Just get me close enough to watch you pinch his ass."
Now a warning light glowed in Randy's eyes that didn't bode well for Eric. Randy's eyes narrowed.
"I think drastic measures are called, uh, drastic measures!"
He jumped Eric's bones and about a bomb's worth of passion shook the house over the next half hour. Exhausted afterward, Randy licked Eric's lips.
"Now let that be a lesson to you."
The next morning, they awoke in Springfield in bed on Sweet Pea. The crew had gone to a hotel to sleep or something, leaving Eric and Randy to their devices.
They took a limousine to the precinct, entered with security in tow, and Randy asked the desk sergeant if he might speak with Tom Lisant.
"Let me get him. Can I tell him who wants him?"
"Randy Lodge-Miller."
A shadow of recognition of some kind flickered over the desk sergeant's face, then disappeared as the man shook it off as a fluke. He walked around the corner and yelled, "Tom, your brother's here."
It took thirty seconds for Tom to walk around the wall to the desk, his eyes in the middle of an eye-roll and a stern frown against the obvious hoax being played on a rookie. Then he laid eyes on Randy and went pale. He was looking at a guy he saw every morning of the world in the mirror when he shaved minus the cop uniform. A slow transformation of his face to a look of disbelief stole over his face, one side of his lip curling down a little, his face starting to turn away.
"What the fuck!"
He blushed a little, realizing he'd let that one slip out.
"Well," the sergeant said, "this is your brother, right?"
"I. didn't. know. I. had. a. brother. until just now and I'm still not sure I do. Who the hell are you?"
"My name is Randy. Randy Lodge-Miller. This is my husband Eric. My previous name was Randy Fortin."
"No, it wasn't."
"Yeah, Scout's honor. I'm 'retired' now and happy."
"What's your mom's name?"
"Leah Fortin, or it was. She must have married a Lisant sometime after I left the house."
"Hey, can we take this conversation out to lunch at noon, sergeant?"
"You can have an hour for lunch. Two hours if I get invited to come listen."
"You are invited and we're paying. It's our privilege."
"Hey, this isn't the way to the airport." The cops were looking nervous.
"Good observation skills." We're going to eat in our jet, the food is great, trust me."
"Hey, didn't you say Randy Fortin? There was a guy by that name who played in the majors."
Tom's head snapped up. Cleveland? His brother? Oh. My. God. He had a little trouble breathing for a second. "I like to throw baseballs around."
"I know. I saw a video. If you want to, we can throw some balls sometime."
"You've got a good arm."
"It's not a 'majors' arm." Sometimes my shoulders just itch to throw a ball though."
"So does mine, isn't that strange."
Lunch on the Gulfstream had been ordered to amaze and amaze it did. From the appetizers to dessert, salad to salmon mousse to lamb chops to potatoes to a chocolate lava cake individually done for four plus crew and security, the meal was a blast.
"I couldn't eat like this every day," said Tom, "but I wouldn't mind trying."
"When is your next vacation?"
"First week of October. I can double-check. Tom looked at his cell phone and the Calendar app. Yep."
"We'll send the jet out and you can visit us in Portland. Bring all your family pics. 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' kind of deal."
"I never knew I had a brother. We've got some catching up to do. I'll come. Here's my email address and number. What's yours?"
"Don't pack heavy or check a bag. If you need anything, Portland has stores. And lots of craft breweries. Bring a swimsuit. Leave girl friends at home. Wives too. We'll have a kosher stag party. Promise we won't embarrass you. Don't bring money. The trip (all of it) is on us."
When Tom boarded the jet on October 1, early in the morning, he didn't know what to expect exactly, but he wanted to see his brother again. The crew treated him like royalty and the flight was smooth and he got a nap and ate great food. Randy and Eric met him at the airport along with a good-looking guy named Bryan, their friend from Hawaii. He learned that Bryan had been a cop and now worked for Randy and Eric.
He checked over his thoughts and was surprised he had noticed Bryan's looks. So what? He didn't notice guy's looks or hadn't before. The guy was out and out built in all the right places...fuck!...there he went again. He didn't notice guy parts and wasn't a judge of them. Bryan had a sexy, deep voice...fuck again!... what was happening to him? He tried not to look at him but had to be friendly so couldn't ignore him. Tom decided this was Portland, not Springfield, and he wanted to look at Bryan and wanted to talk to him about business of course, being a cop, not anything else. He wasn't looking to fuck somebody, but if he was, Bryan wouldn't be a bad start with that gorgeous ass...oh fuck...there it was again. How had that happened?
He heard Randy's voice, "Hey, Tom, you OK? Tom...he awoke sitting on the airport carpet. He'd fainted, no worse for the wear, and decided it was the altitude or something.
"Tom, you had us worried for a sec. You feel OK now?"
"Yeah, I'm OK."
"Good. I was just going to tell you that Bryan has the extra beds this weekend. On Monday, we'll have empty bedrooms and you can stay with us. He's offered to have you... (Oh gosh, thought Tom, we're not going to pass out again. This isn't happening) We'll all eat over here for supper since he's a lousy cook and his cook's on vacation."
Bryan and Tom settled in that evening and after Bryan showed Tom his room and the house, they sat and drank a brew together on the couch while watching TV.
"Do you have a family, Tom?"
"Just Randy, I guess. Our mom died and neither of us knew our dads."
"I really like Randy and Eric. They've done a lot for me work-wise and personally."
Tom replied without thinking, "Yeah, I was surprised to learn that they are married."
"How did that sit with you, Tom?"
"I haven't had time to think about it. I'm a virgin. I never dated. Never wanted to. I just figured I was career oriented and the sex part of my life would sort out sometime. I mean, we all play with ourselves sometimes, but I never had the urge to take a girl to bed. And now I find out my full brother is gay. Strange."
"Have you ever had sex with a guy?"
"No, never tried or had a guy friend that offered, I guess. Maybe I'm under-sexed or something."
Bryan looked over at Tom. "We cops have stressful lives and I found out early that a close friend was just the thing to help relieve that stress. My previous partner in Hawaii was gay; he died not so long ago, heart attack. I miss him and I miss the sex too. He was not very energetic, especially toward the end, but he was healthy and happy and made me happy too."
"If you ever want to fool around some, if you are just curious and want a safe guy to play with, let me know. You are a handsome dude and I think we'd have fun."
Tom's mouth opened but the words wouldn't come out right, so he said nothing and just grinned.
"Well, let's get you to bed and some rest. Nice to get acquainted with you, Tom."
It was 2 am when the hardwood floorboards creaked outside Bryan's door and a knock sounded on the door. Bryan opened the door. Tom, resplendent in his tight white underwear, stood, tanned, fit, magnificent, in front of him.
"I was thinking about what you..."
Bryan grasped Tom's hand and led him to the bed, they climbed in between the cool sheets and did not sleep.
Tom quickly grasped that the mechanics were much like he had imagined before coming to Bryan's bed. He had not remotely imagined and was not prepared for how hard he got when he first laid eyes on Bryan's ass and how much his cock wanted to go in there. His chest hurt a little. He was dying to fuck Bryan, didn't know exactly how to do that right and wanted to be the guy Bryan loved to remember. Tom was more than a little frustrated about how to proceed until Bryan talked to him.
"Tom, you told me you hadn't done this before. Can I show you what I like to give you some ideas?"
Tom nodded.
"Bring your head over here slowly and if you've brushed your teeth, even if you haven't, kiss me. Then gently put your tongue in my mouth and we'll play swords."
Tom's cock sprang to attention as they kissed, and he felt a little wetness seeping out of his cock.
"Now lick my nipples and with your lips gently work them and suck them. Oh yeah that feels good."
"Put your face in my neck and feel the warmth. I like it when you kiss my neck."
"Now put your tongue in my navel and swirl it around. Yes, like that. Nice."
"Reach down and take hold of my cock, don't be afraid, it will feel just like yours does...if you want, take my cock into your mouth and suck it after you cover your lips with your teeth. Oh God! You're a natural! Now take my balls, easy, into your mouth, then my cock again."
"I took a shower tonight and my ass is clean. Bring your nose and mouth close in and smell how fresh it is. It should smell like the citrus soap I used. Take your tongue and lick the skin around my butt and if you want to, make your tongue hard and poke it into my ass, in and out. Christ! that's so good!" Bryan continued to roll and moan, looking down at Tom working away between his legs.
"I need you to fuck me, Tom. I'll put this condom on you, and I want you to put some lube on you and my hole and then push your cock inside me and when I'm ready, fuck me really hard until we shoot. Take me, man."
For the rest, Tom needed no guidance. He nearly tore Bryan apart in a good way, a fuck Bryan decided was his new all-time favorite, one he hoped not to have to compare to any other ever again.
"I hate to sound needy, Tom, but I need you to do that to me every day for the rest of my life. I've never sold my ass, but I want to give mine to you to own. I need you to be mine, man."
Tom, stunned, had just finished his first ever fuck. He might have been pardoned for feeling overwhelmed or tentative.
His response was neither tentative nor confused. His mind, now crystal-clear, processed what he heard and replied.
"It's a deal, Bryan. Marry me. I don't need more time."
His cock felt like it would blow up, hard as granite, leaking again, eager to solidify its gains of the day, to charge back into the game, to cuddle the balls with whom it had become pals, and to shoot again gloriously into space, sheltered in the tunnel, sending pleasure to Tom's brain, spilling testosterone around in his partner like a shower of silver.