The Encounter

by Norman Fitts

  The final decision would come from the Council. That decision would be passed to her and she would either coordinate the evacuation of her people, or the planet wide proceedings for making contact. How she spent her time waiting was up to her. She had always wanted the chance to get closer; to get a place to live, to get what humans called “a job.”

  ***

  The Hilton hotel appeared on her right. She was tired and hungry and wanted the final leg of this journey to end. She turned into the parking lot and into the first available parking space. Just as she touched the door handle, a cold chill went up her back. She released it and rubbed her arms. The strange feeling left as quickly as it came. She sat for a moment, and then got out with her handbag and headed for the hotel entrance.

  Her ties to her family were very strong. Even at this distance, death had a way of making its presence known.

  ***

  The third story hotel room faced east. The drapes were open and the morning sun highlighted the bed. Margaret had the covers pulled up to her chin. Her raven black hair spread out in all directions. She was asleep, but her sub-conscious listened for any change in her environment.

  Something changed and she was instantly awake. Her eyes opened, then closed against the bright sunlight. She shaded her face with her hand and listened to the sound of footsteps moving away. She tossed off the cover and pushed herself up in the bed. Naked, she reached out with her hands, and then briskly rubbed her arms. With out the cover she quickly became chilled. She was never really comfortable here.

  She looked at her reflection in a mirror on the wall at the end of the bed. Except for her head and eyebrows, she was virtually hairless. Her coloring was very light, with a few exceptions. The skin covering the tendons on the tops of her hands and feet was slightly darker. The skin, just above and around her genitals, changed texture and color. Her nipples were a shade darker than the rest of her breast. What stood out most of all was something that wasn't there. Her stomach was smooth, no belly button.

  She swung her feet off to the floor and stood by the bed. Her hair hung to her hips. She took the few steps to the balcony, held the drape in front of her and looked around outside. It would take a couple of days to acclimate herself to Earth's lighter gravity and thinner atmosphere. The cooler surface temperatures would have to be endured. After a moment, she turned and went to the bathroom.

  There was no tub, just a shower. She opened the shower door, reached in and turned on the hot water. She judged a human hotel by how long the water temperature would stay above a hundred and ninety degrees. That was comfortable for her. She walked to the mirror. She looked at her reflection, shook her hair, stretched the skin on her face with her hands and licked her lips.

  The steam from the shower began to fill the room, and then fog the mirror. The warm, moist air felt good against her skin. She tucked her hair into a bun on top of her head. From the base of her neck her spine was three inches wide, creating a half-inch ridge down the center. Three quarters of the way down it forked providing two points of support at her pelvis and where the spine forked, sat a special joint to allow flexibility. In the middle of the fork was the missing belly button. It was something that couldn't be explained away. Sun bathing on the beach was definitely out. A lot had to happen today. She stepped into the steamy shower and closed the door.

  ***

  Margaret was dressed and out on the balcony waiting for breakfast. She stepped back into the room and sniffed. Breakfast was about to arrive. She crossed the room and opened the door. The porter, with his cart, had been just about to knock. He jumped back

  "I'm sorry", she apologized. "I didn't mean to startle you."

  "That's quite all right. I guess the timing was perfect".

  "Seems like it."

  She followed him across the room and watched him transfer her breakfast, and a newspaper, from the cart to the table. When he was finished, he turned and handed her the breakfast ticket and a pen. She took it, signed it and handed it back. He looked at it, and then at her.

  "Oh, I forgot", she said, "just a moment." She went to her bag and returned with a one ounce, unmarked, gold disk. She placed it in his hand. He stared at it, and then turned it over.

  He looked at her. "Is this what it looks like?"

  "Is that enough?"

  "Oh, yes ma'am!" He started for the door; afraid at any moment she might regain her senses. He looked back. "Thank you... Thank you very much." He left the room and closed the door. This was one piece of information he would keep to himself and hoped room three thirty-seven would order lunch.

  She watched the door for a moment. "Is that enough... What am I saying?"

  Gold had no monetary value on her world, but occurred throughout the universe. And, like Earth, was considered quite valuable on many worlds. The first order of business would be to exchange some for local currency.

  She sat at the table, removed the metal covers from the two plates and sat them aside. Under one was an assortment of fruits. Under the other, bread and cheese. She picked up the insulated coffee container and poured some of its contents into the cup beside it. It was filled with clear, hot water.

  She flipped through the paper until the Want Ads came up. She reached for a small metal box, opened it and tapped some of the contents into the cup. She scanned the paper while she stirred the drink. It took less than a minute to memorize the real estate section of the paper. She leaned back with the cup in both hands and sipped. The aroma reminded her of home.

  The Ad read, "HOUSE FOR RENT. 3-2-2 ON TWO ACRES. TWO CAR GARAGE AND BARN. QUIET STREET. $500 DEPOSIT. $1100 A MONTH WITH ONE-YEAR LEASE. 281-555-2165."

  The woman on the other end of the phone seemed anxious to lease the house and agreed to meet her there at 5:30, that afternoon.

  ***

  The Houston freeway system must have been an interesting experience for someone used to the vast, open expanse of the universe.

  She had studied street maps of the city and had no trouble finding Westpark. She carefully looked at the names of the businesses for one place in particular. There, the Houston Gold and Diamond Brokers, Ltd. She pulled into the strip center parking lot and parked in front of the brokerage.

  The replicater on her ship could have provided her with as much money as she needed. In this case she couldn’t afford any problems. She felt it was safer to use the real thing.

  She walked through the glass doors. An armed guard smiled at her. She'd observed time and time again, that most humans smiled. She had early on concluded it was just a conditioned reflex. She smiled back. There were display cases consuming most of the floor space. She was the only customer. A small man, with glasses, crossed the room to greet her.

  His eyes moved up and down her. "Is there something I can help you with?"

  She smiled. "I see from your front window you buy gold."

  "Yes, we'll pay the market value based on the gold content of whatever it is you have." He motioned with his hand. "This way, please."

  She followed him to the back of the store. He walked behind a counter.

  "May I see what you have?"

  She placed her shoulder bag on the counter, reached in and brought out a small, cloth bag. He watched as she emptied the contents on the counter. Forty, one-ounce gold disk's spread out before him. His eyes widened. He picked up one and turned it over in his hand.

  He looked at her. "Would you excuse me for a moment?"

  "Sure." She watched him enter a back room. She turned and leaned against the counter. The guard was watching her and looked away. "Nice Day", she said.

  He looked back. "Yes ma'am, it is." He continued to look for another moment, and then looked away again.

  Not a very talkative sort, she thought. The door opened behind her. She turned back around. The little man walked over and placed the disk with the others.

  "This is some of the purest gold I've ever seen." He said. "Do you mind if I ask where you got it?"

  She knew this was com
ing. "My ex-husband and I bought an old house to renovate. We were going through the attic and found them in a box. We had them analyzed, to confirm what they were, and then put them in a safety deposit box for a rainy day. When we split up I got them as part of the settlement. I'm relocating to Houston and I need the money."

  He looked at the gold on his counter. "Well, I can offer ten thousand for the lot."

  She looked at him for a moment, seemingly to think about it. "That'll be fine."

  He started picking up the disk. "How shall I make out the check? And I'll need your social security number."

  She went into her bag. "Margaret O’Donnell, here..." She handed him her social security card. He took it and reentered the back room.

  Days before her arrival the operations network, for this sector, had updated the necessary data banks, and brought Margaret O’Donnell into being. They also purged any data that might have cross-indexed her to a past alias.

  Another customer entered the store. Margaret turned to see. He stopped to look at a collection of watches in a display case up front.

  The door behind the counter opened and she turned to face the little man again.

  He walked around the counter. "Here Ms O’Donnell." He handed her the check, a receipt and her card. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

  She took them from him. "Same here."

  He looked at the new customer. "Now, if you'll excuse me." He smiled and walked off.

  She put everything away and left the store. She had the money she needed to get the house, so far, so good.

  After a trip to his bank, the rest of the morning and early afternoon were spent shopping for clothes. In some respects, women are the same everywhere.

  ***

  The location of the house was perfect, out of the city with nothing built up around it. Mrs. Carlton met Margaret at the front door and invited her in. She was a middle-aged woman wearing faded jeans, a lightweight green sweater and black canvas shoes. By the look on her face, her first impression of Margaret was good.

  The front room was large with a fireplace in the corner. Mrs. Carlton walked to the middle of the room and faced her. "This is the living room. If you'll follow me I'll show you the rest."

  Margaret surprised her. "I'm sure the house is fine. I'd like to see the buildings out back."

  Mrs. Carlton watched her for a moment. "The garage?"

  "Both of them."

  "Okay, we can go out through the kitchen." Margaret followed her outside.

  The garage was set to the side and behind the house. The barn was behind that.

  Mrs. Carlton turned to Margaret. "If you'll wait here I’ll open the garage.

  “That’s okay. I’m more interested in the other building.”

  Margaret walked over. The doors were unlocked. She pulled them open. This was perfect, more than enough room for her ship.

  Mrs. Carlton walked over. "Do you have live stock, or something like that, coming with you?"

  Margaret glanced her way. "No, but I do have some things I need to store. This is perfect." She looked back inside. "I'll take it."

  Mrs. Carlton took a moment to think about it, and then apparently decided to go with her first impression. "Let's go back in and do the lease."

  "Great..." Margaret started back in. Mrs. Carlton followed her.

  They entered the kitchen. Mrs. Carlton closed the door. "If you'll wait here, I'll get the paperwork." She turned and left the room.

  Margaret started looking around. She opened cabinets, turned the water on and off, checked out the stove. All the things she thought she should do.

  Mrs. Carlton returned, carrying the contract. She handed a copy of the lease to Margaret. "Would you like to read it?"

  Margaret flipped through it. "This looks okay." She placed it on the counter. "What do you need from me today?"

  "I'll have to have the deposit and first and last month's rent. By the way, where do you work?"

  "I don't have a job yet. I start looking tomorrow."

  "I don't know." Mrs. Carlton hesitated. "Without a job, I don't see how I can..."

  Margaret wasn't about to lose this house or more to the point, the barn. She jumped in. "Tell you what, I'll give you the deposit and six month's rent, in advance, in cash, today... I really want the house."

  Mrs. Carlton considered the amount of money being talked about, surely if she were willing to go that far.

  "Well, I guess that'll be okay."

  "Great..." Margaret put her bag on the counter, took out an envelope and counted out seventy-one hundred dollars. She handed it to her.

  Mrs. Carlton took the money. "About the utilities, you'll have three days to transfer them to your name."

  Margaret picked up the pen. "I'll take care of that first thing tomorrow." She signed the lease.

  "If you need something fixed just call. My husband will take care of it."

  "I will." She extended her hand. "Thanks again."

  Mrs. Carlton shook her hand, then handed her the keys and the house was hers.

  Margaret stood in the doorway and watched Mrs. Carlton's truck back out and leave. She went back in. First things first, a look at the rest of the house could wait. She went back out to the barn. She put her hand into her pocket and came out with a remote for her ship. She activated it.

  ***

  A small disturbance erupted in the woods adjacent to the airport and several tons of spacecraft lifted off. The ship was homing on her signal and would rely on its onboard intelligence to stay out of trouble.

  ***

  The sky above the house appeared to be empty. She couldn't see it, but her senses told her it was descending. She stepped back. The wind swirled between her and the open barn. She glanced around. There was no traffic on the road. Where she was standing, wasn't readily visible from any nearby structure. She touched the remote again. Her ship became visible. She eased it into the barn and shut it down. She followed it inside and pulled the doors closed behind her.

  ***

  She spent the next two days furnishing the house. She needed certain personal items from her world. The ship's replicater supplied those. The rest would come from local department stores. After all, she had a Gold Card.

  Driving back to the house, that same sense of foreboding crept in. She considered calling home, but it would take two weeks to hear back from them. If something were wrong, they'd contact her. She had to keep focused. Now she wanted a job.

  ***

  With the assassination attempt on her father, all the resources of the Empire were brought to bear. It was just a matter of time.

  The man who had orchestrated the attack on her father searched for a way to salvage his plan. He knew time was short to gain an advantage. He sat in a darkened room. The communication device he wore provided the only light.

  He spoke to the small image suspended in front of his face. “I’ve sent her last known location and half the payment as required.”

  “We’ll contact you when we have her.”

  “I have to have her alive or she’s worthless to me.”

  “You know what she is. Taking her alive will be difficult.”

  “I’m paying for difficult.” He removed his com-link.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The first stop on the road to employment was the downtown public library. It occupied a full city block across from City Hall. Outside the entrance was a large, welded metal sculpture painted red. If you tilted your head the right way, stared long enough and knew, in advance, what it was, you'd eventually see the Geometric Mouse it was supposed to be. The building itself was large; five sided and led you to believe the architect had the words FORTRESS OF KNOWLEDGE in mind when he designed it.

  She wore a blue two-piece tweed suit and dark blue pumps. A large, dark blue, shoulder bag completed the look. She had debated her hair, up or down, and decided on down to cover her neck. The heels were a balancing act she mastered in the privacy of her living room.

  Sh
e approached the front entrance, taking a moment to wonder about the sculpture, and then took the escalator to the information desk on the second floor. She had scanned the jobs section of the paper and settled on an ad for a research assistant with a background in corporate law.

  The lady behind the desk was on the phone. "Yes sir, we can hold it for you." She smiled at Margaret. "That's no problem... Yes sir. Thank you, Bye." She hung up, and then turned her attention to Margaret. "May I help you?"

  "I need to see your law library."

  She pointed. "Right around the corner, sections J-4 through J-11."

  "Thank you." Margaret returned her smile and walked off. She was beginning to understand about the smile. It was a human defense mechanism disguised as a greeting.

  The reference section on law covered most of one wall. The two basic divisions were criminal and civil, each of which were broken down into sub-categories. Her specific interest was corporate law. She scanned the shelves, taking a few moments to decipher the filing system. She located the section she wanted and removed two books.

  There were several areas designated for reading. She picked an unoccupied table and sat down with her books. She scanned them, taking about five minutes to complete each one.

  Compared to her native language, written or spoken, all the human dialects were simple to master. English required about an hour. At the time, she was just entering her third level of awareness, in human terms, the sixth grade.

  She returned the first two and removed two more. A librarian, passing by with a cart, asked her not to re-shelve the books. She couldn't make any sense out of the request, but if that was what they wanted, that was what she'd do.