And What of Earth?

by Stuart Collings

  “This is all because of Billy, isn’t it?” Trudy declared, with more than a touch of hostility in her voice.

  “No, it’s not because of Billy,” Jennifer admonished. “Trudy, you need to let it go. You know that Barb didn’t know that John was married when they started dating at the University of Wyoming. She didn’t find out until he got her to move from Laramie. She was as upset at the news as you were.”

  Trudy hung her head. “Yeah, I know. I saw her tear into him when they got back to Jewel after moving her things from Wyoming. I was standing outside the house waiting.” She sighed. “I keep trying to bury the hatchet, Jenny. I really do. I guess that I still love Johnny. We were high school sweethearts — I never thought that he’d betray me.”

  “Does Anders know?” Jennifer asked, softly.

  Trudy nodded. “I love my second husband, Jenny. My feelings for Anders are stronger than my feelings for John. But still —.” She didn’t complete the thought. “So, if not Billy, who then? Where did Ron pick this bug up?”

  “Pretty simple, Trudy. Where was Ron 2 or 3 days before he got sick?”

  “In Merna,” she paused. “Visiting his step-uncle and family. Their boy had the sniffles —.” She looked Jennifer in the eyes. “I feel so stupid, Jenny. I was so sure Ron got it from Billy. I feel like such a jerk.”

  Jennifer gave her a hug. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” she promised. Looking at Ron who had not said a word because of the pain in his throat, she said, “No opera singing for a week, understood?”

  He laughed then owwwwwwed. “Don’t,” he whispered hoarsely. “Hurts.”

  Jennifer peeled off a glove and tousled his hair. “Bed rest. Fluids. Salt-water gargles. I guess I don’t need to tell you to not talk.”

  As she walked them to the front door, past a very anxious looking Comiston, Trudy popped open her purse. Jennifer closed it shut for her and told her there was no charge. Once Trudy and Ron were out of sight, Jennifer sagged against the counter. With the distraction over, the panic had returned, and she once again found herself fighting for air.

  Comiston hurried over and grabbed her shoulders. “Are you alright?” he asked her.

  “Ahhhh, no. Someone tried to abduct me or kill me.” She went on to give him a blow-by-blow description of the attack. “I still can’t figure out how I didn’t get zapped.”

  He leaned to her left side. “Looks like you might have,” he said.

  She looked down and saw burn marks on the scrubs she was wearing. “Dammit!” she exclaimed. “These were my favorite scrubs!” She stopped. Oh honey, are you okay? It did zap me. Honey, are you there? Did it hurt you?

  Comiston had a puzzled look on his face. He had noticed her lips move silently. “Talking to yourself?”

  Jennifer got her eyes to focus again. “It’s a sign of genius. That’s what I keep telling everyone.” She had to get rid of him, so she could poke around in her mind and find the symbiote’s presence. “General, I want to sit quiet for an hour. I’ve got to get my thoughts clear again. Can I get you to come back at your usual time?”

  Comiston furrowed his brow. “I don’t want to leave you unprotected, Miss Hodges. I don’t see how you can just slough this off.”

  She sighed. “I’m not sloughing this off. I was attacked. Almost seriously hurt. That’s why I need some time alone right now. To deal with it, before I become permanently paranoid about this place. Put someone outside the door if you want. I just need quiet time alone. Please.”

  He hesitated then nodded. “There’ll be a detail at this door 24 hours a day from now on. We can’t risk you getting hurt.” He gently grabbed her arm and led her to the naugahyde sofa that sat up against the far wall. “If you need to talk, at all, just tell whomever is outside the door and I’ll be here in minutes. Okay?”

  She nodded and tried to smile. “Thanks. I should be okay in an hour. What’s yet another Do-not-enter compartment in my brain?” she shrugged.

  Once Comiston had left, she started rushing through her mind. Are you there? Are you hurt? Talk to me, honey. Let me know that you’re okay. Thank you for taking the jolt for me —. Baby?

  She felt a presence rummage through her music — her phonographic memory. Seconds later, in her mind, she heard a guitar riff with feedback. It was the Beatles singing “I Feel Fine”. “Thank God,” Jennifer whispered, and finally managed to relax.

  General Comiston returned almost 20 minutes earlier than his usual time. Along with lunch, he brought two prepackaged ice cream cups that he picked up from the All-in-One Store. They studiously avoided talking about that morning’s incident, other than Comiston’s promise to find out what the heck happened. In order to ensure that the conversation stayed away from the morning’s incident, he started asking her about the band she played with while she was living in Brookings. When she told him that they did mostly 70s and 80s music, his interest perked. When she started mentioning that one of the few songs that she sang lead on was a Bangles cover, Bell Jar, he confessed to having been a big fan of theirs back in the day. As he gathered up the food wrappers, she thanked him for getting her mind off of the morning’s incident.

  After dinner, Jennifer once again found Pokaifashta sitting in one of the west side seats at the bottom of the stairs. Something didn’t look right, so Jennifer masked as she walked over. “Greetings sister,” she said in their language. “You seem unwell. What’s wrong?”

  Poke’s smile was a little forced. “You are probably already getting the medical information. That is obvious because you are never masked when you are with me.”

  Jennifer sat beside her. “That presupposes that I have a good knowledge of the normal readings for a female Wakira. Besides, it’s more polite to ask you.” She switched to English. “What’s wrong, Poke? You really look ill.”

  “Your planet, I’m afraid. At first, I enjoyed the extra 8 percent in the day — I allowed myself to sleep in. But it is in conflict with my body clock. My body is telling me that I should be asleep now. Which is another problem. The mission commander ordered that we sleep on the same camp bedrolls that dirteaters — ground forces — use. Not the antigravity beds that all Wakira are used to. That, coupled with the increased gravity makes sleeping difficult. When I lay on my back, I feel like I have a small child sitting on my chest. When I lay on my side, my shoulder aches after about one of your hours. I wake in discomfort, and because my body clock is telling me that it is time to get up, I have trouble falling back to sleep. I used to think of myself as being strong, Jennifer, emotionally strong, but an extra 108 minutes a day, and 25 percent more gravity is making my life miserable. Mine and a number of others in the crew. But there’s more than that.”

  Jennifer unmasked and smiled. In their Seditious voice (the one they use to express humor), she said, “Isn’t there always more with you Wakira?”

  Poke chittered half-heartedly. “The end of the year is coming. For us, the last 8 days is known as Reflection, where we gather together with our families to not only spend time together, but to perform acts of service — menial service — to those who are of a lower position than we are. It helps to remind us just how the Provider sees all of us, and it helps us to remain humble. Humility is a cornerstone to duty, honor and obedience. Those of us in the military take turns getting Reflection off to be with family. This year, it was my turn, again along with a number of others here on the ground, and many more in orbit. This will be my first Reflection with my family in 5 years. It is troubling not only me, but also those who have been given leave for Reflection. I want to be on Paratanda to experience Reflection with my family. It is a little over 2 ninedays away.” She lifted her gaze off of her feet and into Jennifer’s face. “I am sorry to be complaining, Jennifer. I know that you are giving up far more than this.”

  “So, everyone is in a hurry to pack up and leave?”

  Poke brought her left hand up to shoulder level and rotated it back and forth. “Yes. You and the people here in Jewel have been generous a
nd friendly. You in particular. But, yes, I believe that the entire crew is anxious to be given orders to leave.” She looked down again. “Not realizing that it means that you will have only a short time left with your father and friends.” She looked back into Jennifer’s face again. “This should not have happened to either of us, Jennifer.”

  “But it has happened, Poke. I seem to remember you telling me that it could not be undone. And that there was no second option. I’m it. And I’ve started reconciling myself to it. You keep admonishing me to not feel guilty about the bonding. I think that I need to tell you the same thing. You didn’t do this to me. It wasn’t you who stole my future from me. It took an impossible set of circumstances to create this most improbable of results. I am going to be the next Mother of the Wakiran Empire. Whether you like, or I like, or the Emperor likes it. It is what it is.” She giggled at repeating the familiar line.

  “That is painful, Jennifer,” she told her in English. “Using my own words against me.” She straightened out of her slouch. “When it happens — when the symbiote appoints you as Our Mother — I know that I’m going to be very proud of you.”

  Myka’s conversation with his father late Friday night was far less confrontational than normal. Both men had obviously decided that they wanted to avoid the name-calling and other disparaging behavior. Myka told the Emperor that the symbiote had already turned orange, and that many of the mission crew had started referring to her as Mother. This alarmed the Emperor, but he realized that there was nothing he could do about it. He was resigned to the fact that his son had bonded with an alien female, and that, worse still, the female had been accepted and approved of by the symbiote. Myka decided to try and make one point with his father.

  “One thing that continues to trouble me, Father, is that the symbiote has approved of Jennifer so soon. As far as I can tell, no candidate has been approved in less than 12 ninedays. Until now. We know that the symbiotes are able to see into the future — the visions that candidates have upon the joining seem to always come true. My reasoning leads me to believe, if the symbiotes can see the future, that they feel that we will need someone like Jennifer sometime in the future. Though why that is escapes me.”

  “Your mother has never told me what her vision was. All that she has said is that it is the unspeakable that brings solace. Early on, after the joining, she would wake at night screaming ‘The abomination! The abomination!’ She has commanded me to never ask her again.”

  “Father, I know that it is your intention to carry out the survey directive soon after you arrive here. But before you commit to that course of action, please consider this: If the symbiotes have chosen Jennifer, and approved of her so quickly because they know that the Empire will need her, and only her, what will the symbiotes do should we destroy this planet and this species? What will happen to you? To me? What will happen to Mother? The palace. Capital. Homeworld? Would the symbiotes seek vengeance against our family and clan for going against their choice? Jennifer will not leave this place if she knows that we will destroy it. If you order the directive to be carried out, she will die alongside her father and her friends. Even if the symbiotes do not seek revenge for what we have done, does it not yet mean that we will face destruction in the future, simply because their choice to be the next Mother of the Empire was destroyed by us? The one fact that neither you nor I can escape Father is that the symbiotes have chosen Jennifer. An alien. Do we risk not only our lives but the entire Empire because of one decision? Please Father, if you listen to only one thing that I say to you, listen to this. Consider carefully Father. When I think of the consequences, I am truly afraid.”

  Chapter 15

  The next morning, Jennifer got more money out of her bank account and went to the All-in-One store, 3 doors down from the bank. She bought the only long-sleeve dress that fit her, and a pair of slacks to go along with it. She wanted to make sure that the symbiote wouldn’t show the next day at church. After having lunch with her father, she shrugged off the clothes she had been wearing, and walked down the slope to the field, wearing nothing but the symbiote. She still despaired at the thought that she might look like a cheap kinky escort, but she reminded herself that to the Wakira, she was the Chosen.

  Pokaifashta was busy compiling and analyzing some data for Myka’s survey report, so Jennifer wandered the ship and stopped to talk to whomever she came across. She tried to reassure them that they would be leaving in a few more days, and that those who were scheduled to be home for Reflection would make it, albeit a couple of days late for the start. She listened to their concerns, to their observations, and to the descriptions they gave of their jobs. When each of the conversations was over, they all thanked her, with almost all of them calling her Mother.

  She wore her new dress and slacks to church the next day. The sermon was entitled Bright futures and new beginnings. Jennifer started to wonder how the pastor could’ve discovered that she was leaving with the aliens, but then chastized herself for being so egotistical as to think that he wrote it specifically for her. The Stones and her dad piled into their car immediately after the service to drive to the truck stop/grocery store just off Highway 83 to pick up the chicken breasts, burgers and potato salad for that evening’s barbecue on the football field. Jennifer walked the 9 blocks to the clinic to drop off the sermon notes and the previous week’s audio recording to Barb.

  While she and Barb joked and played with the stuffed toy dog, a face familiar to Jennifer passed by the window. It took her several seconds to realize who it was. She hurried to the door and stepped out, looking down the slight incline of Main Street towards the south end of town. She couldn’t see him. She called over one of the soldiers standing guard at the corner of Twin Elm and Main and told him that she had spotted one of the bad guys heading down Main. He had to have turned down Amethyst — east or west (who knew?) — before she had gotten out the door. The soldier radioed the information to command. In less than two minutes, two jeeps appeared. One turned left and the other right onto Amethyst. Jennifer returned to the clinic and excused herself. She invited Barb, John and Billy to the chicken barbecue and wished her a quiet shift.

  Back on the ship, Jennifer took off her new clothes then started playing with the weapon’s “see-through” capability. She was still having trouble with “ranging” the images — sometimes, she saw too far and other times not far enough. After making sure that the three indicators in the heads-up display were black (indicating that the weapon was safed), she peered into the various rooms and cabins of the ship she was in. She then pointed the weapon skyward, and looked around the interior of the massive ship hovering just overhead.

  She then pointed the weapon southward, towards Sapphire and the edge of town. She saw Candy Underhill sunbathing in the backyard of her parents’ house on Sapphire. It took two or three seconds before guilt caused her to move the weapon and peer in and around the other homes on Sapphire.

  Next, she pointed it westward. After some difficulty, she managed to look into Bethy’s home, on Bramble, just a few houses north of Sapphire. Bethy was trying to get some sleep in — her overnight shift at the clinic was due to start in just over 3 hours. She “pushed” the view out further, onto Thistle, the westernmost street in Jewel, where the Baptist church was.

  There, she saw the dark van with the tinted windows. She had noticed it when she had arrived at church with her dad that morning, and that it was still there when she left. It had to have been the person the army had posted to keep watch on the church. She pushed her view inside the vehicle. The sole occupant was slumped over in the rear seats, head tilted forward. “Oh my God, he’s dead,” she said under her breath. Turning to Poke, she said, “Poke, get the barrier up. Get the ship overhead to activate the barrier. Hurry!”

  She pushed the image through into the bell tower of the church. She saw two men, and what looked like a long cylindrical object. They were aiming it at the football field. “They’ve got a rocket! Poke, barrier. Now!” She
told the weapon to activate and to set itself to heavy stun. One burst caused the man wrestling with the launch rail to collapse. The second burst struck the man getting the ignition device connected.

  Jennifer lowered the barrel slightly and tried to see if there were others in the church. She saw one more, in the pastor’s office behind the platform, holding several people at gunpoint. She fired again, and he too collapsed into unconsciousness.

  “Where are the others?” Jennifer asked herself. “Poke, what the hell is going on?”

  “They are not accepting my authority, Jennifer. They want a superior officer to order it.”

  Jennifer kept scanning the nearby houses, concentrating on the ones that would have a clear shot at the ships. “Tell them that their new Mother orders them to activate the barrier.” There. On the roof of the Hudson home on Emerald, between Briar and Thicket. “They are on the roof with a rocket! Barrier now!” She screamed the last words in their language.

  She saw a puff of smoke come from the back end of whatever the projectile was. The projectile exploded against the barrier that had appeared just milliseconds earlier. Now, she had a clear shot at one of the two men on the roof. She fired and he fell backwards off the roof of the two storey home. It took a couple more seconds, fighting to get the weapon to see through the brick chimney, before she could stun the second man. He too fell backwards off of the roof.

  She lowered the barrel and looked into the house. In the living room, she saw a third armed man, and several members of the Hudson family. On the carpeted floor, lay someone. The small pool of blood told the story of the person’s condition. “You bastard! You killed Mrs. Hudson!” She took aim, but the weapon had changed its setting to lethal projectiles. “No! Heavy stun! Heavy stun! I want him alive!” As the armed man readied his assault rifle to kill the remaining hostages, the weapon obeyed and Jennifer stunned him.