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Megafortresses and F-15s,” said Martindale. “You’re mad about it, and you wanted to talk to me in person before the deal is finalized.”
    “Mad would be not the right word, sir,” said Dog.
    “But you don’t approve.”
    “I just feel that giving Brunei—giving anyone—our technology, is a problem.”
    “Let’s stop right there,” said Freeman, the national security advisor. “Because number one, we’re not giving them anything. They’re paying for the privilege. And that payment is going to help us develop the next generation of weapons and aircraft at Dreamland. It’s one reason we can go ahead with your work there.”
    “A small reason,” objected Defense Secretary Chastain.
    “We’re not giving them our most advanced technology,” said Freeman. “The basic structure of the EB-52 is older than I am.”
    “But sir, with respect, that’s like saying the basic structure of a newborn is older than its mother,” said Dog. “The Mega-fortresses have been completely rebuilt. Their wings are different, the fuselage is more streamlined and stealthy, the engines, the control surfaces—a B-52 would never have made it that far into China.”
    “The Old Dog made it into Russia,” said President Martindale. Years before Dog had joined Dreamland, a B-52 had helped avert war with the Soviet Union with a daring—and officially unauthorized—mission over the heart of Soviet defenses. Immortalized in the press as “The Flight of the Old Dog,” the incident had been every bit as daring—and suicidal—as Bastian’s over China. Martindale had been a governor then, but it was well known that he admired the people who had pulled off the mission; he’d told Dog he kept a copy of the book detailing their exploits on his reading table upstairs in the White House.
    “You have reservations about Brunei?” President Martindale asked Dog. “Can they be trusted?”
    “It’s a beautiful country,” said Dog. “But it’s not a democracy”
    “Give it time,” said Freeman.
    “It’s not just that,” said Dog. “If we give them Mega-fortresses and F-15s, then what do we give the Malaysians and Indonesians? They share that island. What about the Philippines?”
    “Those countries haven’t asked for EB-52s,” said the national security advisor.
    “They will,” said Dog. “What do we tell them? They’re not as important as Brunei? What if they ask for F-22s?”
    “They’re not getting F-22s. No one is,” said the president. “They’re not getting F-15s, either. Not F-15Cs, or F-15Es. But if we don’t give them something, they’ll simply buy from the Russians. The world is becoming more complicated, Colonel. Very much more complicated.”
    “I appreciate that. I just don’t want my weapons systems making things worse.”
    “Neither do I,” said the president. “We’ll have to work hard to see that they aren’t.”
    Malay Negara Brunei Darussalam
7 October 1997, (local) 0802
    In Zen’s opinion, the official Brunei reaction to the incident on the beach was schizophrenic beyond belief. On the one hand, they clearly didn’t consider it, or didn’t want to consider it, as anything but an isolated and freakish incident.
    On the other hand, they considered it an insult to the country, which prided itself on being the perfect host. Because of this, the authorities felt obliged to apologize in person, and therefore Breanna and Zen had been invited to breakfast at the Royal House, an exclusive club used only by very high-ranking government officials just outside of town.
    Zen might not have minded it except that he was due to catch a flight home at one o’clock, which meant rather than spending the next few hours alone with his wife he had to sit stiffly through a long and formal breakfast. He even had to wear a civilian jacket and tie, purchased specially for him by the State Department liaison, due to some obscure protocol that he didn’t understand.
    “Oh, you look handsome. Stop