Alien Refuge

by Tracy St. John

  Jol pointed to the guest room the boy had slept in. “In this room. This is Thomas’ room at Jol’s house. This is the room where the trains are. Come look.”

  His tear-streaked face now eager, Thomas hurried to the Nobek and followed him to the room’s doorway. Iris climbed to her feet and joined them. The little boy stopped in the opening, refusing to go in with Jol, however.

  “No. Go home,” Thomas said, but there was no panic in his tone. He watched quietly as Jol picked up one of several hard-shelled containers sitting next to the wall. He set it on the sleeping mat and opened it.

  “What’s in it?” Thomas asked.

  “Your trains.” Jol began taking the toys Thomas had made out, along with his tracks and bridges.

  Thomas ran to Jol’s side and peered into the container. “Thomas’ trains. Here, Thomas.”

  He and Jol unpacked the trains. Ospar and Rivek, who had thrown on a robe like the one swallowing Iris, joined them. Moments later, the little boy and the Kalquorians were setting up the tracks and trains on the floor all around the sleeping mat. They talked, commenting on the trains, asking questions that Thomas answered in his stilted way.

  Iris stood in the doorway, staring in amazement at them all. Thomas was totally calm and comfortable now. The men were chuckling and playing with him, as if his destructive fit had never happened.

  From his cross-legged pose on the floor, Rivek smiled at Iris, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. “Set this room up as much like the one he’s used to as you can. Then we’ll go over his schedule and get him as close to his routine as possible for the rest of the day.”

  Jol added, “If anything is missing that you need, I will go back for it.”

  Tears were threatening, stinging her eyes. Fighting to not cry and upset Thomas again, Iris choked out, “Thank you. For everything.”

  All three men looked at her. The expressions of kindness and care were identical. “He’s perfectly fine,” Ospar said in a quiet tone.

  He wasn’t referring to Thomas’ wellbeing, Iris realized. He was talking about their acceptance of him.

  They continued to play with Thomas, keeping him distracted as Iris began to unpack the belongings Jol had brought from her home. She watched them as she worked, still scarcely believing these three men, these near strangers, could care so much for a little Earther boy.

  * * * *

  Borl shook his head, his expression one of complete disgust. “Earthers are utterly useless. They couldn’t control a woman and a child long enough to capture them? Fools.”

  Maf shifted in his chair. They sat in the greeting room of the guest quarters he occupied, and he wished he’d chosen the softer lounger. Still, he knew it was sometimes impossible to get comfortable, no matter how well cushioned the seating. At least he was perched next to the firepit. The warmth of the fire eased joints too susceptible to the cold.

  He told Ospar’s aide, “I’m not that surprised. Never underestimate the lengths a woman will go to for a child.”

  That statement reminded him of other things. Women and children. Most of them never saw past Maf’s crooked body. He’d become used to the looks of dismay from the women and the expressions of fear from the few children he’d been in the presence of. Even those reactions were better than the pity that grated on his nerves. It took a special person to look beyond the twisted packaging and find the man inside. No Earther woman had done so yet.

  Not that he wanted one. The thought made his stomach turn. They were odd, tiny, pathetic creatures when compared to the strong beauties of his own kind. He thought of one such woman he knew, Matara Feyom. Such a magnificent woman, and one that saw past surface weaknesses. Maf’s groin tightened in warning, and he shook himself.

  It was time for the next phase of Haven’s meltdown. He asked Borl, “So you were saying you’re meeting with the Earther leaders of the E.I.K. tonight?”

  “Tomorrow. But before we get to that, I have the information on Iris and Thomas Jenson that you asked for.”

  Maf leaned forward, ignoring the ache in his hips. “You found something useful?”

  Borl grinned. He looked very pleased with himself. “Their real identities, to start with.”

  When he didn’t go on, Maf had to restrain a sigh. Borl was smart and talented when it came to breaking into secure files, but he loved drama a bit much for the councilman’s tastes. Having someone hang on his every word and beg him for more made Borl feel the importance that had eluded him thus far. It was an irritating quirk.

  But the revolution Maf ached to set into motion needed all the disciples he could get. It was growing every day but was still too small to truly challenge the leaders of Kalquor.

  He smiled indulgently at Ospar’s aide. “Really? They’re here under assumed names? Please, tell me more.”

  Borl fairly preened. “Their real names are Mira and Thomas Slade. My connections had to dig deep to find that out. Most records were lost when Armageddon destroyed Earth. Not only that, but it seems only the most important people in their government or religious hierarchy can be traced.”

  “Important? In what way?”

  “Government and military leaders, church officials, and important businessmen who headed the most significant industries behind the scenes. The people that ran their world, in short. Iris, or rather Mira’s husband Conrad Slade was one such businessman. He dictated much of Earth’s financial structuring.”

  And now the Earther female could barely scratch out sustenance for herself and her son. No wonder she was sniffing around Ospar’s clan. Maf smirked. “Fascinating. But where is this illustrious husband now?”

  “Presumed dead, at least here on Haven. He was supposed to be in the city of Chicago when the explosions happened. Iris listed herself as a widow.”

  Borl’s grin told the real story. “You found him alive,” Maf guessed.

  The aide nodded. “Very much alive on the colony Mercy right now, where he’s been stuck for the last four months tending cattle. Conrad Slade has fallen from grace in these last two years, having to work for his meals and travel. As he raises funds, he moves from colony to colony trying to track his beloved wife and son down.”

  Maf’s eyes narrowed. “She changed her name. Disguised her identity. Obviously, she doesn’t want to be found.”

  “Apparently not.”

  “Family is so very important, Dramok Borl. A father and mate should certainly be reunited with his.” The statement made Maf wince only slightly.

  Borl looked nearly rabid with eagerness. “Shall I send for him then? I can push his name to the top of the list to immigrate to Haven. Perhaps even pay his way onto the very next transport between the two colonies.”

  Maf grinned. “Oh, by all means. Without delay. While Clan Ospar’s rank and money are no doubt what a woman used to luxury would aspire to, there is no greater wealth than that of love.”

  That one really did hurt. The councilman wondered what sick part of himself sent the knife to plunge so deeply into his heart.

  Borl had more good news however, news that helped distract Maf from the even greater pain than that of his crippled body. “I should let you know, Iris and her son are now staying with Governor Ospar’s clan following the kidnapping attempt. Ospar did not return to his office this afternoon. I think his clan may be serious about the young woman.”

  Maf hoped so. He really, dearly hoped that Dramok Ospar was falling in love with the little gold digger Earther. It would make revenge so much sweeter.

  He told Borl, “Even better. I think we may have the very things we need to get the revolution rolling here on Haven. Make sure the people you meet with tomorrow are completely aware of the situation.”

  Yes, the E.I.K. was thus far a weak joke of a protest. However, even those Earthers who hadn’t joined its ranks yet would decry a woman, still mated to the father of her son, openly consorting with the highest-ranking clan on their colony. Indeed, this was just the kind of trouble that could make the r
esidents explode into violence and further the cause of the rebellion.

  * * * *

  After playing with Thomas for about an hour and letting him acclimate to the clan’s home a little better, Ospar and Jol left to do some work. Eager to get Thomas back on schedule, Iris said, “Schoolwork in fifteen minutes, Thomas.”

  “No. I think trains.” The boy lay on the floor, pushing his toys along the tracks.

  She rolled her eyes and smiled at Rivek. “He always says that. Counting him down to his next activity helps him transition, but he’ll probably fight it since things are so unusual today.”

  The Imdiko considered. “Meditating between activities might also help him move from something he enjoys to something he needs to do but isn’t quite as enthusiastic about.”

  “I can’t imagine how I would get him to meditate. Sitting still and going within isn’t exactly his strong suit.”

  “There are other ways to focus. Just a moment.”

  Rivek rose from his seat on the floor. In the last hour, he and Iris had gotten dressed, taking advantage of Jol and Ospar distracting Thomas long enough for Iris to leave the room and making herself presentable. She had the stray fantasy of taking a long soak in a bubble bath while the clan looked after her son. It made her chuckle at herself.

  “Everyone has to have a dream, right Thomas? Ten minutes until schoolwork.”

  “No. I think goodbye.”

  Rivek came back into the room. He had three metallic tubes, some small wooden blocks, and three small, slender mallets in his hands. He sat down in a clear spot not taken up by Thomas’ toys and arranged the blocks so that two were in front of himself, two in front of Iris, and two in another clear spot.

  The blocks had hooks on the top edges, and Rivek attached a metal tube between each pair so that it hung suspended above the floor. Then he handed Iris a mallet and placed one with the third setting.

  “Oh, these are chimes,” Iris said.

  “Right. Let’s see what Thomas thinks of them.”

  Rivek used his mallet to strike each one. Clear tones of differing notes rang through the air. Thomas, who had been engrossed with his trains, bolted upright and looked around in surprise. Rivek played them again, and Thomas reached for his mallet.

  “Here, Thomas,” he told the Imdiko.

  “Chimes and then schoolwork. Your chime is there,” the priest said, pointing Thomas to the unmanned instrument. “Sit there, Thomas. Play your chime.”

  Thomas quickly crawled over to the empty spot. He picked up his mallet and struck the chime, sending a sweet tone through the room. Thomas trilled the same note, matching it with his young voice.

  Rivek allowed him to try all three chimes. Then he coached Thomas until they were doing a meditative exercise in which he counted and each of the three took a turn striking their chimes. Thomas sang along with every note.

  His voice calm and quiet, Rivek chanted, “One, two.” He struck his chime, and Thomas trilled with it.

  Again, Rivek intoned, “One, two.” He pointed to Thomas, who rang his chime and vocalized.

  “One, two.” Iris’ chime, accompanied by her son.

  She breathed in on the counts as Rivek had instructed, and then breathed all the way out to empty her lungs as each chime resonated for about four seconds. After two minutes of the exercise, she felt calm, quiet, and peaceful. Even more amazing, Thomas also sat quite still, seeming to enjoy his role in playing the chimes.

  After another few minutes, Rivek nodded his approval. “Very good, everyone. I think we’re all relaxed now. Would you like to do it alone, Thomas?”

  The little boy smiled at Rivek. “Yes.”

  “All right. Five minutes of chimes and then schoolwork.” Rivek moved the chimes so that all three sat before Thomas, ranging from high to low.

  The child counted, his tone and cadence exactly like the Imdiko’s. “One, two.” He struck the first chime and sang along in a drawn out, “Aaah. One, two.” Second chime. “Aaah.”

  As he continued, Rivek looked at Iris. “He has perfect pitch. Do you hear how he matches his voice to the tone?”

  She nodded. “He’s always mimicked sounds and voices with amazing accuracy. You hear how he’s counting the same way you did, with the exact same inflection.”

  The Imdiko considered Thomas. “That might be useful. If he mimics not only sounds but could also repeat replies to certain situations, perhaps we can use that to help his socialization skills.”

  “In what way?”

  “Roleplaying scenes with appropriate responses for him to memorize would be a start to successful interaction. I’ll mention it to Copin to incorporate in their work, plus we can reinforce it here.”

  Iris thought about it. It made sense. If Thomas was taught exactly how to respond to specific cues, it could go a long way towards helping him work with others.

  She said, “That’s an excellent idea. As was this.” She motioned at the chimes. “He loves repetitive actions, and this is right up his alley. I’ve rarely seen him sit still for anything except his train vids.”

  Rivek nodded. “This exercise also settles the mind and narrows focus. It will be useful when he finds himself in stressful situations if he learns to breathe in rhythm.”

  Iris smiled at the Imdiko. “Have I thanked you for being so kind to him?”

  Rivek chuckled. “Several times.” His smile remained, but his expression turned more solemn. “He is a beautiful child, Iris. I feel as connected to him as I do to you.”

  She’d noticed already. The entire clan had seemed to bond easily with Thomas, as if they’d known him and his quirks all his life. It had been wonderful, if a little jarring, to watch them interact with him without effort.

  Iris licked her lips. “That thing you talked about? Spirit recognition?”

  “Yes?”

  She hesitated a moment before saying, “Maybe you’re his spirit fathers. You and the rest of your clan.”

  Iris had been afraid Rivek would recoil. After all, she thought it sounded like she was trying to get them to accept some sort of responsibility for Thomas. As comfortable as she was with the men, she didn’t want it to seem as if she expected them to clan her and adopt her son.

  However, Rivek’s smile was a delighted beam. “Perhaps we are. I would be honored if Thomas had made such an arrangement with me before we were brought into physical being.”

  Iris relaxed. She was glad she hadn’t scared Rivek away with such a bold idea. Thomas really did respond to him, Ospar, and Jol with more acceptance than he did with most people.

  Rivek asked, “How did his biological father feel about him? His special way of being in the world?”

  Iris sighed unhappily. “When Thomas was first born, Conrad was so proud to have a son. The world revolved around his child, and he talked all the time about the financial empire he would leave to Thomas. But when we learned about the autism ... well, then Thomas became just another possession. Something else Conrad owned. A thing.”

  The Imdiko’s forehead creased as he thought about that. At last he said, “So your husband didn’t entirely reject him.”

  “He did, though. Thomas ceased to be a part of him in his eyes. Conrad usually ignored him that last year before Armageddon.” Her tone became angry. “But he would have never let either of us go. We belonged to him, and once Conrad staked a claim, you belonged to him for eternity.”

  Rivek pursed his lips. “I had heard Earther clans ... or marriages, that is ... could be broken, unlike Kalquorian bonds.”

  “In the eyes of the law, yes. But Conrad would have seen me dead before he would let me leave. And autistic or not, Thomas would have remained his forever.” Iris picked at the soft cowhide rug she sat on. “What does your Book of Life say about being glad someone is dead?”

  “‘An upright person’s heartfelt feelings are beyond rebuke, even when he despises another. For the worthy do not hate without just cause.’” Rivek smiled and stroked her hair. “Feel better?”
/>
  Iris’ mouth twisted into a humorless half-grin. “Maybe a little.” She stared at the chimes Thomas continued to play, though he’d stopped counting and was beginning to bang them with more of his typical enthusiasm. It was time to get him to do his lessons, but she needed to finish this conversation first.

  She told Rivek, “I did love Conrad once upon a time. Before I knew what he really was. Even afterward, I loved him and thought it was me doing everything wrong.”

  The Imdiko continued to stroke her head. “Abusers have a talent for making their victims believe they deserve the abuse.”

  “He could be so charming and sweet. He would cry after hurting me and promise it would never happen again. He’d go out of his way to make it up with lavish gifts. And I’d let him convince me to stay. How stupid was I?”

  “You can’t blame yourself. Some control through emotion, some through force.”

  Iris swallowed. “He used both. It was so humiliating when I finally realized I was just another possession. And once he had me, there was no escape.”

  “Except through his death.” Rivek stopped petting her and cupped her chin in his palm, gently raising her face so that she looked into his eyes. “Do not allow guilt to make you believe less of yourself, Iris. Fate has rescued you, and you are allowed to be grateful.”

  She couldn’t help but really smile looking into that handsome, gentle face. She told him, “Now I’ve met you, Ospar, and Jol. Maybe fate will be kind from now on.”

  Rivek leaned close and kissed her, his lips tender on hers. Iris let herself melt into it, feeling the warmth of his touch fill her entire being. Perhaps they were soulmates. Maybe this crazy notion that she belonged with three alien men wasn’t madness after all. Could she really look forward a happy future once again?

  Hope bloomed bright and beautiful in her heart.

  Chapter 8

  Governor Hoover sat across the desk from Ospar in the Kalquorian governor’s office. The room was quite large, ostentatious by even the Dramok’s admittedly luxurious standards, but like everything else to do with Ospar’s public face, it had a purpose. It made those approaching him instinctively feel like supplicants, giving him the edge of power.