All of the Above

by Timothy Scott Bennett

  “Coming,” said Cole. He pushed back the comforter and stood to pull on his clothes. “Gotta get up, Linda,” he said again, leaning over to rub her legs. Linda opened her eyes and got up, struggling to keep herself somewhat covered with the blanket, but then giving up the struggle. She stepped into the bathroom to pee, then pulled on her long johns, jeans and flannel shirt. Cole stood watching as she came back out. Linda reached up to rub her head. “You like it?” she said with an uncertain smile.

  Cole nodded. “Love it,” he said. “You ready?”

  Linda took a deep breath, glancing nervously at the door, then back to Cole. She smiled bravely. “I guess.”

  Cole opened the door and they headed back to the living room. Obie was sitting cross-legged in the recliner. Payok sat on the futon, his eyes dark, his left arm and hand bandaged where the energy beam had hit him while he lay in trance. Sina sat next to him, her face taut and drained.

  The young visionary stood as they entered the room. “Thirteen,” she said, lifting her chin in defiance.

  “Thirteen?” said Cole.

  “Thirteen dead,” said Sina. Her hands made their way to her hips. Her eyes held Cole’s like the talons of an eagle. “You’d better be worth it, you son-of-a-bitch.”

  17.3

  Cole and Linda sat side-by-side in ladder-back wooden chairs pulled from the table. Linda glared. It felt like they were on trial and she didn’t like it. She opened her mouth to speak but Obie stopped her with a gesture.

  He looked at Cole. “I just got back from Clare’s,” he said, gesturing with a nod toward the hotel in the town center. “She’s got a phone. I spoke with an Officer Fairly in Hindrance.” Obie stopped, glancing nervously toward the two Inuit. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward a bit. “Both your daughter, Grace, and our father are in the hospital, Cole,” he said. “And Emily and Iain are missing.”

  “What?” said Cole, rising from his chair. He stared down at his brother. His hands were shaking. “Is Grace OK?” he demanded. “What did Ken say? When did all this happen?” He took a deep breath, looking from face to face, then sat back down heavily. He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips, then looked at his older brother.

  “Fairly says he spoke with Dad yesterday afternoon, just before Dad drove Grace up to the medical center in Waitsfield. Says that Grace had fallen into a coma the night before. Wouldn’t wake up in the morning. Last night Fairly got a call. Sometime between seven and eight. An anonymous tip reporting a shooting and a house fire. Fairly notified the fire department and raced up to find Dad on the front yard, shot in the gut. Both of Dad’s security guards were dead. No sign of Iain or Emily. By the time the fire squad arrived the house was almost gone.”

  A dark cloud passed across Cole’s face. “Were there—?” His voice was choked and wobbly.

  Obie shook his head. “I asked. Fire inspectors went through the remains late this morning. No sign of Emily or Iain inside. But you need to know something, Cole. I don’t know if you noticed this when we found you in that house, but Grace’s cord has been severed. She’s untethered now, just as you were.” “What cord?” said Cole, shaking his head in confusion.

  “The astral cord, bro. Some call it the silver cord. It’s a visual representation of the strong connection that exists between one’s spirit, as it travels the astral realms, and their body, that waits back in the physical. Grace’s cord has gone missing.”

  “Oh, Christ,” moaned Cole. Tears squeezed from his eyes and flowed down his face.

  “Yeah,” said Obie. He took a deep breath, as if making space for Cole’s fear and grief. “I’m not sure we can know exactly what that means,” he went on. “Her body’s in a hospital in Vermont, apparently. Her spirit … well, we both saw her in the house. But we do know, now, that the two can be rejoined.” He smiled gently.

  Cole exhaled heavily and looked down at his lap.

  “Fairly said that Dad’s in bad shape, but he’s stable. The cops have no idea who did it, and Dad’s not talking. But we, of course, can guess what happened.”

  “Fucking Rice,” murmured Linda.

  Obie nodded. “I should have known this was a possibility,” he said, looking directly at his brother. “Rice always takes out an insurance policy when he can.”

  “We have to get down there,” said Cole, rising, panic in his eyes. He looked around the room, as if he would grab his wallet and keys and rush out the door.

  “So the white man’s just gonna jump into the trap,” offered Payok gruffly. “Looks like this Rice knows what he’s doing.”

  Cole whirled angrily to face the Inuit warrior. Then he stopped. Payok’s eyes were tired, tight with grief and pain. Cole took a long breath, then turned back to Obie. “So what do we do now?” he asked. He sat back down.

  Obie put his hands up as if in denial of his brother’s assumption. He shook his head. “Wish I could help, little bro, but I’m not leading the dance now. You tell me.”

  Cole leaned back but made no reply.

  Linda reached over and took Cole’s hand, then looked at Sina with one raised eyebrow. “What do you need from us?” she said.

  “Redemption,” said Sina without hesitation.

  “Redemption,” repeated Linda, nodding, as if Sina had given the answer she’d expected. “For the loss of your sister, Immaqa. And your shaman, Utterpok. And the eleven others of your group who died today.”

  Sina sat without expression, giving Linda nothing.

  The President continued. “Redemption for the costs you’ve borne to help us.” She looked back and forth between the two Inuit. “You want justice. You want this all to make sense. You want this loss to be honored. You want it to count for something. You want my promise to be fulfilled.”

  Slowly, almost against her will, Sina nodded.

  Linda frowned, irritated at Sina’s failure to see who she really was. “I want the same, Sina,” she said, tossing back her head. Her breathing had become hard and quick and she inhaled deeply and held it, in an attempt to calm herself. Her eyes had grown fierce. “I too want redemption. I want justice. I want it all to count for something.” She glanced over at Cole. His eyes were red. His face was wet. She turned back to Sina. “Cole and I bear the cost as well,” she said, “as you’ve just heard.” She gestured toward Obie with a nod of her head. “My chief of staff was murdered. And my friend Pooch—” Linda stopped. Her throat had clogged with grief. She swallowed her pain and continued, her voice suddenly quiet and ragged. “My mother has been taken. Just like Cole’s kids. We don’t know…” She looked down at her lap, then back up at Sina, letting silence say the rest as she held the young woman’s gaze. The room was still. There was no wind. In the kitchen a clock ticked.

  “And Ruth,” said Cole, breaking the stillness, his voice low.

  Linda turned to face him. She squeezed his fingers. “What about Ruth?” she asked.

  Cole’s face was white with confusion. His eyes were closed. “I … I remember it now. A dream I woke up with. Just before Obie knocked. I was in an airplane. A jet. There was a UFO dogging us, just past the left wingtip. The pilots said something about turning back. And then this bright flash.” Cole sighed softly, his eyes moving rapidly under their lids as if he were watching a movie. More tears spilled out over his cheeks. He exhaled deeply, then opened his eyes and looked at Linda. “They … they shot down Ruth’s plane,” he said. “They showed me. They let me experience the whole thing.”

  Linda nodded gently. “Yeah. We saw. That’s where we found your body. In the wreckage.”

  Cole frowned. “Why would they show me?” he asked. “How could those bastards…?”

  Sina rose from the futon and knelt at Cole’s feet, taking both of his hands in her own. “You must hear me,” she said. Cole’s eyes focused on hers. “The Tuurngait – the aliens – they exact a heavy price. And they demand that we meet them as they are, not as who we would wish them to be. This is who they are, Cole Thomas. You must understand this. They are bei
ngs – spirits, gods, demons, angels, aliens, whatever – willing to interfere with events in this realm so that you could one day meet the woman who would be President of the United States, so that you could partner with her, and help her do what she must now do. Just as they were willing to spend the life of my sister to bring you back. Perhaps it is ours to judge them. Perhaps not. I do not know. I know that I am sometimes furious at the prices they demand. But judge them or no, we must first work to move beyond our emotional reactions, so that we may see them as clearly as we can, and see the true reality they reveal to us. Only then can we make our choice freely, to either align with them or resist them.”

  Sina glanced for a moment at Linda before returning to Cole. “Your people have strayed far from the mark, with your culture of exploitation and consumption and growth. With your addiction to comfort and material wealth. You have offended the Universe deeply. You have broken the rules that govern all of life on this planet. Were the consequences of your actions contained within your own borders I would leave you to your fate. But that is not the case. Your sins threaten us all. That is why I agreed to help. You can complain neither of exploitation nor disregard at the hands of the aliens. They simply treat you as you have treated all life on this planet.” A scowl came to Sina’s face as she spoke, tightening the tattoos on her face, bringing harsh focus to the glare in her eyes. Her grip on Cole’s hands tightened. “The spirits will be satisfied,” she said huskily, “just as the god Wentshukumishiteu demanded payment this morning. Do not sneer at the bargains they offer you. After the destruction your way of life has caused, you’ll be lucky to get anything at all.”

  Sina rose, breathing deeply. Her face fell to peaceful calm as though, having expressed her anger, she could now make room in her heart for compassion and empathy. She leaned forward to kiss both Cole and Linda on their foreheads, like a blessing. She stood back and glanced at Payok, who rose to stand beside her, cradling his arm and hand against his stomach. “My people need me,” she said with a slight smile. “I must go. Transportation has been arranged. May the spirits be with you on your journey.”

  Sina strode to the trailer door with Payok in tow, then turned and spoke to Cole. “This is not about your children,” she said, “though I shall pray for them.” She looked at Linda. “This is not about avenging your mother.” She glanced back and forth between them. “This is about the whole of life on this planet. You need but listen. The whales are singing to you even now. The eagles cry. The polar bears chuff and growl. The Arctic bumblebees fly and buzz. Even your own people are tossing and groaning in the nightmares of their lives. When you understand this, you will begin to understand the Tuurngait a little bit.”

  The Inuit prophet turned her gaze to Obie and her eyes softened further. A smile crept onto her face and sat there for a moment, happy to come in from the cold. “Goodbye, my friend,” she said at last. “Remember that a hunt that fails to show proper respect will give the offended spirits cause to avenge themselves. And remember that the age of separation has ended, as we spoke of that first night. Your Mr. Rumi was correct. There is a field. Perhaps one day we’ll meet there.”

  “I’d like that,” said Obie.

  Sina nodded once. Then she and Payok were gone.

  17.4

  Mary had stuck with the busiest Interstates. Though traffic was not nearly as heavy as it had been even a few years ago, and though the road surfaces were suffering greatly from a lack of maintenance, the Interstates gave Mary the sense of comfort she sorely needed. In the summer of Mary’s thirteenth year, her Aunt Allison had taken her on a road trip across the country, giving the shy, lanky teenager a two-week reprieve from her father’s insanity. It was her first taste of the larger world, and her first awakening to the notion that there were other ways, besides her father’s way, for human beings to be. Ever since, the Interstates had meant freedom to Mary. Freedom and safety. She rolled down her window to let the cool autumn air soothe her fatigue. Her stomach was sour and heavy. She did not know what awaited her in D.C., but she suspected that, at some point, she would come once again face-to-face with the unpredictability of Theodore Rice.

  Mary exhaled loudly, trying to dispel her anxiety. Where was Rice now? And Bob? Where were Linda and her friend Cole? Mary had no way to know. It had been almost three days since she’d fled the People. Three days since she’d extracted her implants. Three days since she’d unplugged from the web of information on which she’d grown to depend. She was flying blind. And she was scared. Rice must have taken Cole’s kids, thinking he could use them to control the President. Maybe they were down in the Rock, right now. The thought made her heart pound. She knew she could not let him get away with such things.

  But she also knew she was not really flying blind. It was more like she was operating on instinct, following promptings and whispers she might previously have ignored. It was as if she had a shard of lodestone buried in her heart, leading her towards, always towards. Where she would end up she could not say, for certain, but there were signs and portents along the way.

  Mary got onto the inner Beltway just as the sun was nearing the western horizon. She took 295 to New York Avenue NE, a straight shot to the heart of the nation’s capitol. She caught a glimpse of the Washington monument. The sun, distended and gleaming in the day’s final glory, sat behind the monument’s base. The huge orange disc stretched beyond both sides of the national phallus like a pair of glowing testicles. Mary laughed. Even with no real idea of what would come next, she knew that she was in the right place.

  Because those testicles were shrinking.

  17.5

  The wok that had brought them all to the far north would not be taking them back south. Linda understood why. It was time to leave their mother’s arms and take a few steps on their own. It was time to grow up. Though she had no idea how they’d do that, she knew that they would try. There was no other path to redemption.

  She looked through the window to the twilight beyond, wondering what awaited them back home. Cole snored peacefully at her side. Obie had disappeared into the cockpit. This little CJ3 was quieter than the Piper Comanche single-prop that had hopped them from Akkituyok to Resolute Bay. A wealthy supporter of Sina had been waiting for them there on the dirt and snow airstrip. He’d raised an eyebrow as the President boarded, but said nothing. Linda had been impressed. Sina’s reach extended farther than she would have guessed. She leaned back and closed her eyes, thankful for the gentle ride. Now she could reflect and make plans.

  Once again she was forced to think ahead before the past had even begun to sink in. What had happened back there? Where in the Universe had Cole been? What were these aliens up to? What did it all mean? What she needed was a week of rest and conversation. She needed information and understanding, insight and opinion. Instead, they were wading right back into the fray. There would be little time for rational analysis. Linda smiled to herself at the thought. She wasn’t sure the aliens would submit to rational analysis.

  Obie came back from the cockpit and smiled as he caught Linda’s eye. With a nod of his head he invited her to a conversation at the back of the plane. Kissing Cole gently on the forehead, Linda rose and joined his brother in the last row of seats.

  “We’re coming up to Baffin right now. We’ll follow it south,” said Obie in hushed tones. “Beck figures we’ve got maybe seven hours in the air. Plus a stop in northern Quebec to refuel. Some little place he knows where they won’t ask any questions. Don’t know how long that’ll take, given it’s a Sunday night. He won’t fly anywhere near D.C., but he’s got a friend with a strip on Delmarva. Add another four or five hours to get a car and make the drive.”

  “Beck is our pilot, I take it,” said Linda.

  “Yeah. Not his real name, he says. He’d rather not know anything.”

  Linda laughed quietly. “I don’t blame him.”

  “Yeah.” Obie twisted in his seat to face Linda more directly. “So how you feeling, Mrs. President?” he asked.
“We haven’t had much time to talk.”

  Linda rubbed at her fuzzy scalp. “Not bad. Tired, mostly. My toes are still frozen from our time out on the ice, but otherwise I’m fine.”

  Obie nodded toward Cole. “How’s my little brother?”

  Linda shrugged. “He’s okay. Worried about his kids. Distracted. He seems … different.”

  “He is different. He’s been killed and resurrected. It’s gonna take him a while to understand what that means.” Obie peered over the chair’s back to make sure Cole was not listening. “This morning, while we were carrying one of the bodies to the dogsled, I asked him how long he’d been living in that house with Ruth. He told me that he couldn’t be sure, but that it felt like about a year.”

  “Jesus,” said Linda.

  Obie nodded. “Yeah. A couple of days for us, a year for Cole, living again as a young man with his wife.”

  “You saw them there, in his house? And you met Grace? It’s all true?” asked Linda.

  Obie nodded.

  “Did he seem … I mean, when he realized what was going on. Before you brought him back. Was he—?”

  “It’s a mind fuck, isn’t it?” answered Obie, his eyes soft with compassion. “You fall in love with the guy, then he gets killed, then he comes back, and you learn he’s just spent a year with his dead wife? And here he is, back in your life, loving you, and you him, and it turns out your tea was spiked with some alien love potion to begin with, and you don’t know what to trust anymore, do you? You don’t know what to hold onto.”

  A few tears had pooled in Linda’s eyes as Obie spoke. The first one jumped and the others quickly followed. She hung her head in acknowledgment. “That’s about it, Obie,” she said thickly.

  “You learn that the dead aren’t really dead. That we’re all here to evolve toward the Absolute. That the universe is teeming with life and consciousness and that it’s almost impossible to know what’s really going on. Words like death and reality and right and wrong start to lose their meaning. We’re standing buck naked in that field Rumi talked about.” Obie continued in a more gentle tone. “And here you are, living a life in the physical realm, and now you learn that the world as you’ve known it is unraveling under your feet. And strangers like Sina and me come along with our Jedi robes and fur parkas and tell you that you, Linda Travis, the President of the United States, that you are the one who’s been called to do something about it all.” Obie reached out and took Linda’s hand. “It’s enough to send a girl back to the farm, isn’t it?”