Page 57 - Effable Encounters

Kids’ Krusade for Krissendom

Moslem East. The author expresses impatience with the failure of our
military to conquer the forces of evil threatening to destroy us. I take
it this is not a ploy by pederasts. Have you found the webmaster, this
Peter Nicholas?”
“He also vanished. And he is also a youth, fourteen years old, the
son of an officer stationed in Germany.”
“Were all the missing children overseas military brats? All boys?”
She shook her head. “No on both counts. Many were on school or
family trips abroad. None could have traveled beyond the borders of
the United States unaccompanied by an adult. Profiling them and
their parents did not give us any picture other than a cross-section of
their peers. We are not dealing with misfits.”
Doctor Easton sighed.
“Let me guess the rest. You traced the missing children to Port
Qosher, where they were instructed to gather and be armed by Peter,
who would then lead them to the Holy Land and Armageddon.”
“Yes.” She arched her untinctured eyebrows. “That destination
came in an e-mail. How did you know?”
“History—as recorded in literature. The thirteenth-century
Children’s Crusade came to grief there, at least in legend. Those
devout but naïve crusaders supposedly were sold into slavery as soon
as they arrived. Port Qosher still has a reputation for human
trafficking among its economic activities. Did you find out where the
children were sent?”
Sarah Sennick scowled, showing the steel beneath the iron.
“Yes, but it will not do us much good. The ultimate purchasers of
these now-brutalized children are well-connected citizens of a
country which is our ally. Our relationship with it is precarious and so
is its ruler’s hold on his throne. I cannot divulge any of the options
on the table for dealing with that dilemma. We interdicted the transit
and kidnapping of another two hundred twenty-nine once the
seriousness of that website was established. They have been sent to a
special boot camp for deprogramming. The Port Qosher slavers are
out of business—at least until they are replaced. Criminals abhor a
vacuum.”
The psychiatrist trained his non-confrontational gaze to a spot
slightly to the left of her head. “All right, Sarah. I get the picture.
You want an epidemiological opinion as well as a psychocultural

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