As always, Comiston arrived at 12:05, this time with a salad and water for himself, and a breaded chicken breast on a bun for Jennifer. They were silent for a long time while they ate. They both recognized that it was unnecessary to rehash the events from the previous evening.
“So, what’s this welcoming ceremony you mentioned?” she asked him eventually.
Comiston put down his salad. “It was felt that we needed to honor the Emperor’s visit. We wanted to keep it low-key — so we’ve not told the media. A local guy will provide the sound and video.”
Jennifer frowned. She knew who it was.
“It looks like you’re unhappy about this. I would’ve thought you would be glad that there would be no outside knowledge of his visit.”
She put down her sandwich, and finished chewing her mouthful. “I’m glad that you’ve kept it all secret. We’ve had enough excitement with terrorists and Earth-Firsters. I have an unpleasant history with the guy who will be providing the sound and video. I once broke his arm after he tried to cop a feel. Back when we were in high school.”
“Ohhhh.” He paused, then said, “Do you want us to try and find someone else?”
She shook her head. “It was almost 8 years ago. I should be over it by now. Besides, I don’t think that there is anyone else within 50 miles or more who can do it. And Jimmy’s equipment is here in town. Actually behind the barrier. He keeps it in his basement — he bought his dad’s house on Thicket a couple of years ago. He specializes in weddings, funerals, and high school graduations.” She reached for her sandwich again. “So, what’s the order of ceremony?”
“We’re bringing in a classical octet to play the national anthem. Apparently, the Wakira don’t have an anthem as such, so I’ve asked the musical director to come up with something appropriate. I have no idea what he’s decided. A speech from a politician, then a drill team routine, cut down in size because we only have about a third of the field to work with, then hopefully a few words from the Emperor. We all stand and applaud — actually, stick our hands in the air and rotate them side-to-side — and the Wakira load up the ship and prepare to leave.”
She chewed her lower lip.
“I’m sorry, Miss Hodges. I—.”
“It’s Jenn. Call me Jenn. Please.”
“Jenn. Frank. I am — amazed — at how well you are taking this. How strong you are emotionally.”
“All an illusion, Ge — Frank. I’m already in mourning. Deluding myself by trying to submerge myself in the mundane and ordinary. Drinking it all in. Committing it all to memory. I cry myself to sleep at night, now. I grew up lonely. I then had friends, first in college and the gymnastics team, then in Brookings with the guys at the VA, and my bandmates, then here, with Barb and Bethy. And now, I’ll be lonely again. They’ll love me once I become their mother. But up until then —? What will happen? Myka will be off on missions hither and yon, and I’ll be alone in the palace. Isolated from everyone. Probably resented by many. I can’t see where I’ll find happiness there. Or fulfillment.” She put the remnants of her sandwich back down on the counter. “Life sucks, General. Sucks to be me, at least. I can’t believe that I used to dream about going to the stars with aliens. The foolishness of youth, I guess. We tend to forget all about the downside.”
He reached over and patted her on the arm. “Sometimes, we have to make joy where there isn’t any. Sometimes, we have to get people to like us, especially when we’re certain that they won’t. The key, Jenn, is to be yourself. When I first met you, I thought of you as some sort of head-in-the-clouds kid. I’ve come to know you reasonably well over the last few weeks. Believe in yourself, Jenn. You’re the perfect choice for this. And I’m sure that they’ll all like you, even before the change happens. All they’ll have to do is get to know you. Alien quirks and all.”
Jennifer said nothing, but a small smile crossed her face briefly. Comiston went back to his salad, and Jennifer finished off her sandwich soon after. Finally, after more than a few minutes, she asked “Is the president coming?”
Comiston put the empty plastic bowl down. “No. He’ll be in Kazahkstan for the launch. Along with his family.”
“So, who’s coming here? The veep?”
He shook his head. “He has to stay in Washington while the president is away. The governor will be representing the president at the ceremony.”
Jennifer looked dubious. “From what I’ve learned, their weapons can penetrate down to over 2,000 feet. The hole would have to be plenty deep.”
“Because the White House media always know where the President is, it was thought that people would figure out that the Emperor was here, should the President suddenly fly off without warning and without the press corps.”
Jennifer accepted that that was a plausible answer, but continued with her original assumption. “The blasts would probably blow away most of the atmosphere. Even if they could survive, they might not ever be able to leave the shelter.”
“You are far too distrusting, Jenn. That will probably help you in the future —.”
Barb was teary-eyed again that evening at shift change. Jennifer reminded her that it wasn’t goodbye yet. She’d be back in 12 hours for the start of her shift. They hugged; Barb professed that she didn’t want Jennifer to go with the aliens. She had grown to love Jennifer over the last 16 months, both as a dear friend and a little sister. When Jennifer pointed out to her that she was a good half-foot taller than her “big sister”, Barb laughed and said that she had hoped Jennifer hadn’t noticed. Jennifer broke the embrace while Barb held on for a few extra seconds.
“I’ll seeya in the morning, Cap’n,” Jennifer said before stepping through the door onto Main.
Chapter 18
Once supper was over, Jennifer went down to the field to meet with Myka and Poke. She was surprised to learn that the Emperor had asked to have dinner with both Jennifer and her father. The story she had made up to try and calm Medahso would be coming true after all. Because of the time difference, supper would be sometime after sunset on board the ship. It would coincide with early morning for the Emperor. During the overnight period, he would once again review the survey data and reports that his son had compiled, then would bed down while everyone else was getting up. Saturday evening would be a one-on-one meal with Jennifer, and the following morning would be the welcome/farewell ceremony, and the time to leave would be upon her.
The lesson with Poke was a review and a test. Poke seemed pleased to be able to tell the next Mother that she was communicating at an advanced pre-teen level, though some of her pronunciations were somewhat childlike. “It is almost sweet to hear you speak at times, Jennifer,” she said then chittered. Jennifer tried to be stoic.
Less than one day until he arrives, she reminded herself that night at bedtime.
Barb was still emotional when Jennifer arrived Friday morning for her last shift. Jennifer worked hard to try and make her laugh, but met with little success. She promised Barb that she’d come in the following morning for a proper farewell. After a long hug, Jennifer had to practically push her friend out the door.
People came throughout the day. None required any sort of care or treatment at all. Apparently, word had gotten around that that day was her last at the clinic, though none of them knew why that was. Among the visitors were people that she knew from high school, including members of the chess club from when she had attended school. The same people who refused to allow her to join, because she had already achieved her expert level. She jokingly asked them if they wanted a game.
The general’s arrival at lunch was a bittersweet moment for her. She had grown accustomed to having lunch with him and discussing whatever topic came up. It suddenly struck her that he had been filling the role that David Stone had while she was growing up. His face showed deep concern for her. He seemed reluctant to touch her, seemingly afraid that a simple touch might cause her to shatter into a million pieces.
They were silent for most of the lunch.
“This be it, General,” she finally said, deliberately mangling her English. “He has undoubtedly entered the solar system by now, and may even be in orbit this second. I’m assuming he’ll finish his sleep on board whatever ship brought him here, then land closer to sundown.”
“Are you happily excited, or scared to death?” he asked her.
“Neither,” she replied, then finished the last of her meal. “Numb would be the correct description. Numb and tired. I don’t want any of this to happen, yet I want to get it over and done with. The needle on my denial-meter is deep into the red zone.”
“Was it wise for you to come into work today? Wouldn’t it have been better for you to do something that you like — something that would take your mind off of this evening and tomorrow?”
“Like what?” she asked. “There’s nothing in this town to help pass the time away. When I was young, and we had a Hojo’s just north of here on Main, every Friday evening, teens would go there. Not to eat. But to play ‘Spot the tourist’. Bonnie, the waitress, would know who was from elsewhere, and would be the official judge. Families from the surrounding farms didn’t count as tourists.” She put the empty drink container onto the counter. “Then the Hojo burnt down — 2010? — and they never rebuilt it. That was the big event in this town. During football season, we’d watch our school team get killed, THEN we’d go to Hojo’s and play the tourist game. Don’t need Bonnie’s help now. I can tell the ones who are from off-planet pretty darn easily.” She tried to giggle. “Imagine travelling 3 quadrillion miles so you can eat some barbecued burgers and chicken breasts!” She sat quietly for a second then added, “Good thing the Burger Shack doesn’t have a drive-thru. Can you imagine trying to get that ship,” she pointed upwards, “under the overhang to collect their order?” This time, she didn’t even smile.
When the lunch was over, they parted company as they always did. The real goodbye would take place on the football field late Sunday morning.
Saying goodbye to Bethy was hard for both of them. Jennifer had looked up to Bethy as a mother-figure during the almost 16 months she had worked at the clinic. Bethy worried about how Jennifer would cope in a society where no one would truly understand her. Where there would be little emotional support. Where, at least for the first few months, she would have no friends to speak of. “The Imperial mail, if there is such a thing, doesn’t have a pickup point in this neck of the galaxy,” Jennifer said, still trying to make light of everything. “If there is some way of establishing 2-way communication between Jewel and the palace, I’ll make it happen. It might not happen until after I assume office, but I promise that I will. I will speak with you again, Bethy. I don’t know how and I don’t know when, but I will. I’ll need to.”
With tears in both pairs of eyes, Jennifer walked out the clinic, and headed down Main towards her dinner with the Emperor.
Jennifer and her dad walked arm-in-arm down the stairs to the football field, about 15 minutes before they were supposed to arrive. Jennifer was dressed in what she called her drummer dress — the flowing knee-length dress made of diaphanous layers of white gauzy material that she used to wear when she played with the band. She always had great performances when she wore it. She was hoping to achieve the same result this time. Her father wore a suit and tie, probably for the first time in a decade. He was surprised that it still fit.
Pokaifashta met them just outside the main entry to the ship. “Greetings Gerry Hodges,” she said in English. “Greetings little sister,” she said to Jennifer in her language, then chittered.
“Greetings, Poke. Do we look okay?”
In English, she said, “You both look quite presentable. Do both of you remember the various ceremonial things you must do before the Emperor?”
“Yes, honorable female,” Gerry responded, using the little Wakiran he knew. “I have it easy. I just have to bow, welcome him, and do the forearm grasp you people do. Tiger has it much harder.”
Jennifer squeezed her father’s arm. “I think I have it all fixed in my head, including the formal oath of fealty to the family. When I’m supposed to kneel. When I just bow. The formal greeting when we first meet. Hearing you say the words several times has imprinted them in my head. It’s the phonographic memory thing I have that I’ve told you about.”
“I wish I could tell you that I know him to be a very pleasant male when he is in an informal setting, but I have only ever met him once — just before this mission. All you can do, Jennifer, is to do your best, be yourself, and let the Provider help with all the rest. He has a hand in all of this somehow. Though I have no idea what He is doing.”
The three of them boarded the ship. “The dinner will be served in what you would call the officers’ mess on the upper deck. Someone decided that the meal will be Terran food. I believe the Mission Commander said that it was ‘steak and eggs’. Is there some sort of significance to the choice?”
Jennifer smiled. “It’s the traditional meal that American astronauts have before they launch. Whoever suggested it has a sense of humor.”
“I thank you, Beloved.” Myka appeared from behind them. “I thought it would be appropriate, in a way.” He turned to Jennifer’s father. “Greetings Gerry Hodges. It is good to see you again. I believe that you and my father will end up getting along well tonight. Let’s go up.”
As they left for the nearest lift, Jennifer called out to Poke, “Pray for me when you go to your quiet place tonight, Poke.”
“I will Jennifer. Be at peace.”
The three of them entered the room and waited for the arrival of the Emperor. After the formal greetings, he sat on a chair that acted as a substitute for his throne. He bade Jennifer closer with a gesture. She approached, bowed at the waist, then dropped to her knees, placing her forehead in between his feet. She gave the oath of fealty to the family (flawlessly) then waited for the command to stand.
Instead, in English, the Emperor ordered her to lift her head. He cupped her chin with his left hand and slowly brought her face up closer to his. She looked into his black-grey eyes and waited. Finally, in the dominant voice, he said “Stand Daughter”. She had been formally accepted into the family.
She moved to his right side, opposite of where Myka was standing. Gerry Hodges then walked over and bowed two-thirds of the way to being parallel to the floor and held it there as he had been instructed to. After a moment, the Emperor greeted Jennifer’s dad, and he was allowed to straighten up. Holding out his right forearm, he formalized the greeting with the Terran with a forearm grasp. Once the small ceremony was over, Myka led his father to the table that had been set up for their dinner. The fathers sat opposite each other, with their offspring beside them.
Dinner was excellent; the beef succulent and juicy. The eggs were over easy and were equally excellent. There was some talk during the meal — the Emperor attempted to speak English with Gerry, though Myka had to interpret frequently. The conversation was warm and casual. Gerry took pride at speaking about Jennifer’s accomplishments (which taxed Myka’s translation skills somewhat). Over dessert, he told a few “Funny Jenny stories” which embarrassed Jennifer but that both aliens found amusing. After the plates were cleared, the foursome moved to more comfortable seats and continued the conversation.
At one point, the Emperor wanted to ask Jennifer a question but found his English lacking. He turned to his son and told him the question he wished to ask her. Jennifer didn’t wait for the translation, and answered the question directly in their language. This surprised the Emperor — he had thought that her skills in the language would be minimal at best. Myka tried hard not to smile.
After several hours, the Emperor noticed that Jennifer was looking decidedly sleepy. She apologized to him, and told him that she had been awake for 19 hours — more than 8-tenths of a standard Imperial day. He then apologized to her for not remembering that she had been awake since before he had retired to bed. He thanked the two Terrans for an enjoyable and delightful time, and decl
ared that he needed to communicate with Homeworld over important matters. All three bowed, and he left the room.
“How did I do, Myka?” she asked sleepily.
“You were most impressive,” he told her. “Both of you were. This is definitely a promising first step.” He walked them to the main entrance to the ship and wished them both a pleasant night.
The heat of the day had already left by midnight, and a cool gentle breeze blew down the ravine from the northeast. Many Wakira were sitting outside in the stands relishing the cooler air, which was much closer to what they were used to. Father and daughter climbed the stairs up to Emerald in unison, once again arm-in-arm.
At the top of the stairs, they ran into Candy Underhill. “Hey Candy. On a late night prowl?” Jennifer asked cattily.
“Hi Xena. Hi Mr. Hodges. What are you all dressed up for, Xena?”
Gerry Hodges answered. “We just had dinner with the Emperor.”
“Dad!”
“Was I supposed to keep it a secret?”
“The Emperor?” Candy asked. “What is he doing here? And why would you get to eat with him?”
Again, Gerry jumped in. “He came to meet his new daughter-in-law.”
“DAD!!”
Candy took a half-step back. “Daughter-in-law?”
Jennifer sighed. The last thing she wanted now was to have Underhill start yet another personal vendetta. “You remember Myka, the Mission Commander?” Underhill nodded. “He’s the heir to the throne.”
Candy’s eyes started drawing into slits. “And?”
“They bond only in season. Twice or three times a year. Outside of the bonding season, they have no real interest in members of the opposite sex. For some reason, he bonded with me. Neither of us wanted this. I certainly didn’t want to have to leave everything to go with him.”
“You’re — like — married to him?”
Jennifer nodded. “He was in his last day. One more day, and it wouldn’t have happened. Just one more day, and I wouldn’t have to leave my dad and everything.” She squeezed her dad’s arm. “It’s not all servants and sycophants, Candy. I’ll have a job that I’ll have to do, around the clock, no days off. It may sound glamorous, but I suspect that it isn’t.”
And What of Earth? Page 21