by L. Danvers
Cal awoke after a horrific dream in which she tried breaking Quinn out of her capsule to no avail. She nudged Flynn and Britt, who were fast asleep beside her. They grumbled and rubbed their eyes, and then the three of them made their way downstairs to their respective rooms and went to bed.
Cal slept hard, and when the sun shone its warm rays through her window, she wiped drool from the corner of her mouth. She rubbed her eyes, sat up and yawned while stretching out her arms. She wanted to sleep for a few more hours, or a few more days, but she knew she needed to get up and get ready for the day.
She went to her bathroom and turned the shower knob over to get the water as hot as possible. She undressed as the room filled with steam. She didn’t recognize herself in the mirror. She hadn’t been in space long, but she looked older. It was her innocence, her naiveté, that was gone. In front of her was the reflection of a woman who had faced things that paled in comparison to the atrocities that humans were warring over. America’s own president was colluding with an alien queen who was collecting humans like they had no value, then experimenting on them and storing them in a warehouse on a deserted ice planet. It was despicable.
Cal checked the temperature and climbed inside. She pulled the curtain closed behind her and let the hot water shower over her. She had a new appreciation for heat after experiencing the unthinkable cold of Duratus. She spent twenty minutes in there, appreciating the warmth as she bathed. When her fingers wrinkled, she turned off the water, got out and wrapped herself in a fuzzy white towel. She dried her hair and put on her uniform.
At breakfast, she sat next to Commander Ahmadi, who was already halfway done with his meal.
“Did you sleep alright?” he asked.
Cal shrugged.
“Something is weighing on me,” he said. “I apologize for not saying it sooner, but I am sorry about your sister. You know we will do whatever we can to save her.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“I cannot imagine how you must be feeling,” he continued, his fork clanking against his plate as he set it down. “If that was my wife, or worse, my children...” His voice cracked, and he fell silent.
While Cal appreciated her commander’s sentiment, she was thankful that at that moment both Britt and Flynn came to join them. They sensed that they had walked in when Commander Ahmadi and Cal were on a sensitive subject. Neither one of them said anything for a while. They piled eggs, bacon, pancakes and warm maple syrup onto their plates and stuffed their faces with food.
Cal stared down her breakfast and pushed what was left of her meal back and forth across the plate with her fork. For a brief moment, she wasn’t thinking about anything. She wasn’t thinking about Quinn. Or Aes. Or the storehouse. Or her family and how much she missed home. Or what was to come of the victims. She was only thinking of pushing her cold eggs around. But the relief was short-lived.
“Any word on when Vice President Pierce will be here?” Flynn asked.
“He should be on his way any minute,” Commander Ahmadi said.
As Cal gulped down her last sip of coffee, Agent Taylor entered the dining hall and asked Cal to come with her. Cal wondered what this could be about. Why wouldn’t she want to talk to all of them at once?
They walked together down the wood-paneled hallway. Agent Taylor didn’t say a word about where they were going or explain why she only needed Cal to come with her.
Cal followed as Agent Taylor turned right at the end of the corridor. The two of them stopped in front of a door to a room Cal hadn’t seen before, though that wasn’t too unusual. The vice president’s estate was so large it was impossible to keep track of each room and hallway and staircase. She wondered how long Vice President Pierce had owned this place. It was far too large for an aging single man, even a wealthy one. She figured he had purchased it with the intention of using it as the headquarters for this operation.
“He wanted to speak with you,” Agent Taylor said. She turned the knob and pushed the door open. Cal hoped to find Vice President Pierce waiting for her inside, but she knew that was a long shot. Instead, she found Sam sitting in a chair. Cal looked at him and back at Agent Taylor. She sighed and entered, taking the seat opposite to Sam. Agent Taylor closed the door behind her.
“I’m surprised you’re not in handcuffs.”
“I’m not resisting,” Sam said. He was tired. There were bags under his once-perfect brown eyes. They had lost their sparkle. He wasn’t putting on his usual charming act. There was no adorable crooked half-smile, no combing of his fingers through his hair. It was simply him. “I know I messed up. Big time. I deserve whatever punishment they give me.”
Cal folded her arms and leaned against her seat. “Why am I here?”
“I wanted to talk to you.” He sounded like he was about to cry, but Cal couldn’t tell if that was sincere. She couldn’t trust anything he said, anything he claimed to feel. He had lied to her for months. He’d had so many opportunities to come clean. How could he not have told her?
“I have nothing to say to you, Sam.”
Her heart was pounding, but she didn’t want to let her emotions be known to him. She was so confused. One day ago, she had been head over heels for this guy. Today, he was her enemy.
Think of what he did to you, she told herself. Think of what he did to Quinn.
“I want to apologize to you, Cal. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Any of you.”
“But you did. Why do you care, anyway? You were undercover. You don’t have any loyalty to the CIA?” Cal said. “I guess you didn’t have any to us, either. I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Don’t you get it, Cal? I loved you. I still love you.”
Cal laughed. “Love me? How could you love me if you couldn’t be honest with me about who you were? I don’t even know you. How do I know any of what you said to me was true?”
“I haven’t lied about anything other than my background,” Sam said. He was studying his shoes, too ashamed to look her in the eye. “I don’t want you to hate me.”
“I don’t hate you, Sam.” He lifted his head, surprised. There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but she was quick to extinguish it. “I don’t wish you ill. I don’t wish you well. You’re nothing to me.” Cal stood up and smoothed down her uniform’s pants legs. She’d said what she’d needed to say, and she wanted to get as far away from him as possible. “I’m done here. I’m done with you.”
Sam stood, too, though he didn’t dare take a step closer to her. She put her hands on her hips, waiting for him to get his last word in.
“I’ll make it up to you, Cal,” Sam said. “If you need anything... if there’s anything I can do for you...”
Cal turned away, opened the door and gave him one final look over her shoulder. “Goodbye, Sam.”
Agent Taylor was waiting for her down the hall. She wore a half-smile, half-frown, like she wanted to say something encouraging, but she knew nothing she could say would help. She walked with Cal a little ways before she stopped and said, “I’m sorry, Ms. Cameron.”
Cal turned to face her, unsure of what Agent Taylor was apologizing for.
“I know you cared for Mr. Decker. I imagine he hurt you a lot.”
Cal bit her lip and sighed. Agent Taylor wrapped her arms around her, hugging her tight as she patted her on the back. It took everything Cal had not to burst into tears at the loving embrace. She thought she heard a sniffle, like Agent Taylor was tearing up, too. But why would Sam’s betrayal affect her so personally?
“You’ll be okay,” Agent Taylor said as she let go.
Cal returned to the dining hall, and without offering any explanation, she sat between Commander Ahmadi and Britt.
“What was that about?” Britt asked.
“Sam.”
“What did he want?” Flynn asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
In an effort to change the subject, Britt wiped her mouth with her napkin and asked if anyone wanted to go
with her to check on Aes. Commander Ahmadi and Flynn declined, but Cal had nothing better to do, so she agreed to join her. She could use the distraction from Sam. They said goodbye to the others and headed downstairs.
“You’re worried about Aes, aren’t you?” Cal asked.
“Yeah.”
“Why? You don’t know anything about him.”
“Don’t you feel bad for him, though?” Britt asked. “I mean, Caelifera is a different story. But Aes doesn’t have a choice. He’s a slave. You see how nervous he is. The farokh abuse and take advantage of his kind. It’s disgusting. I wish there was more we could do for him and the saveen. Think of how he must be feeling. To us, this is home, but he left everything he knew to come here and spend the night being interrogated. He must be lonely and scared. Wouldn’t you be?”
Cal patted Britt on the back as they walked. “You’re right. I shouldn’t group him in with the farokh, but it’s so hard not to think of Quinn when I look at him.”
“I know,” Britt said. “I know.”
They reached the room where Aes was being held. Two expressionless agents they hadn’t seen before stood guarding the door. This struck Cal as odd. Sam was trusted to sit in a room without being handcuffed or observed, while Aes, who volunteered to come here to divulge information about his master, was being treated like a criminal.
It took some convincing on Britt’s part for the agents to allow her and Cal to enter the room, but they relented. The room Aes was being kept in was much smaller than Sam’s and didn’t have a chair to sit on. He was crouched down in the corner of the room, his lanky arms wrapped around his bunny-like haunches. He looked so helpless and innocent sitting there. He raised his chin and rubbed his cartoonish eyes with the back of his hands.
“Do you mind if we join you?” Britt asked him.
Aes jumped to his feet. “Please, please. I would love some company. I am sorry I do not have a seat to offer you.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Britt said.
“What did they send you here for?” Aes asked.
“Send us?” Cal asked. “No, we wanted to visit you. We wanted to see how you’re doing.”
Aes squealed in appreciation. He said he had not witnessed such kindness before, which made Cal feel guilty for ever having a negative thought about the poor Creatian.
“Did you get any sleep?” Britt asked.
“I slept a little. Agent Taylor and I spoke for a long time last night.”
Britt and Cal both sat on the floor with their legs crossed, and Aes sat across from them.
“What did she talk to you about?” Britt asked.
“She wanted to know more about my home planet. She wanted to know about the landscape and atmosphere, about the types of lifeforms that live there, about Caelifera and the farokh, about my kind.”
The women talked to Aes for an hour or more. The more they talked, the more comfortable he became around them. He was at ease.
But their conversation was cut short. Agent Taylor’s voice rang throughout the estate. “Stellix crew to the briefing room.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Things moved fast once Vice President Pierce arrived at the estate. The crew, with the exception of Sam, met with him and Agent Taylor in the briefing room. Agent Taylor’s arms were crossed, her expression as blank as the first time Cal had seen her on the cruise on New Year’s Eve. She was staring at Vice President Pierce, who hadn’t slept the night before. His eyes looked grayer, if that were possible. It could have been because of the blackish bags under his eyes. Either way, it was clear this meeting had been weighing on him.
“Before we get started,” Pierce said as he shoved his hands in his pockets, “I owe each of you an apology and an explanation. What Mr. Decker said is true. I deceived you. There is no secret branch of NASA. I funded this mission myself. In retrospect, I was wrong not to tell you my true intentions. However, I feared the ramifications if President Douglass found out about our mission. This borders on treason, you know. I may have gone about it the wrong way, but I was trying to protect you. If you no longer wish to participate in this mission, you have my blessing to leave.” He paused for a moment and motioned toward the door. The others stood there, looking both at him and one another. Walking away was tempting. Cal had every right to be furious with Pierce. But at the same time, this mission of his had led her to Quinn, and she wasn’t about to leave. Not without her sister by her side.
When it became clear that no one wanted out, Agent Taylor had them take their seats at the hexagonal table. She pulled up holographic images of the storehouse. Flynn had taken these images while Cal was wandering down the aisles alone, feeling like her world had shattered around her.
At first, Vice President Pierce’s expression remained stagnant, like he was trying to process what he was seeing. The pictures showed row after row of peculiar looking capsules, covered in dust. It wasn’t until a few images later when he raised his hand to his mouth, horrified at the sight of one of the victim’s faces. He saw an innocent person, a citizen of the United States, suspended, frozen.
As hard as it was to relive these horrors, as the communications specialist it was Cal’s job to go over their findings with the vice president in detail. She told him about the alien and about Caelifera, and everything else she could think of that Aes had told her. Vice President Pierce shook his head in utter disbelief.
“This is even worse than I feared,” he said.
Cal also told him about Quinn, and she said she wanted to find a way to rescue her sister and the rest of the victims. Her voice caught as she fought back tears. At that point, Commander Ahmadi jumped in and steered the conversation toward Sam, asking Vice President Pierce what they should do with him.
He rubbed his wrinkled chin with his fingers. He weighed the options. It wasn’t like he could turn him in, Cal thought. Who would he turn him in to without incriminating himself and the others? As far as the rest of the world knew, this crew and this mission didn’t exist. He came to the same conclusion.
“Let’s keep him here at the estate,” Vice President Pierce said. “For now, that is.”
“What about Aes?” Britt asked. “He’s been more than willing to share any information he has about the humans they collected, his home planet and even his master. We made a deal with him. He kept up his end of the bargain. It’s only fair that we keep up ours, don’t you think?”
“Hmm,” Vice President Pierce said, again rubbing his chin. “I would like to meet with him first. But, yes, I think you are right. We need to honor the terms of the deal.” He checked his wristband, and his eyes widened. “Oh my, it’s later than I thought. Let me meet with the alien. After that, I must hurry to the White House. I have a meeting with President Douglass later this morning. He believes it is to be about deploying more ground troops. He’s not going to see this coming. Agent Taylor, I want copies of everything to take with me. Can you do that?”
“Yes sir, Mr. Vice President,” Agent Taylor said, her voice void of emotion. Cal studied her, and she noticed her eyes had a glossy look to them, like she was on the verge of tears. And in that moment, she understood why Agent Taylor comforted her after Sam’s deceit. The man she loved, Teddy Pierce, had deceived her, too.
The vice president stood and rubbed his hands together. Before walking out the door, he stopped and turned to look at Agent Taylor, Commander Ahmadi, Flynn, Britt and Cal.
“One more thing,” he said. “I’ll be in touch with you following my meeting with Douglass. Should you not hear anything from me, should you not be able to reach me...”
He didn’t have to finish his thought. Agent Taylor gave him a knowing nod. Cal and the others understood the vice president was in a dangerous position. His confrontation with the president would go one of two ways—surprisingly well or terribly wrong. It was a risky move, but it had to be done. There was no other way.
“Now,” he said, “I’d like to meet with Aes.”
Agent Taylor es
corted him down the hall while the rest of the crewmembers filed in the opposite direction. They headed up to the living room and sat on the couch. It had been days since they had watched the news, and Vice President Pierce’s comment about deploying troops reminded them their country was at war.
Cal turned the holographic projection to Channel 12. The silver fox, Gregory Gilden, was anchoring. Britt’s face brightened upon seeing him. Cal rolled her eyes. If Britt only knew what a jerk Greg was, she would be repulsed by him. Cal didn’t want to be the one to break it to her, though. Let her dream.
Cal turned up the volume so the four of them could hear.
“That brings the death toll of U.S military men and women to 1,412,” Gregory said. There was a dramatic pause. “This is minimal compared to the death tolls of French, Spanish, Italian and British forces.”
The image cut to video of an interview with a plump man with greasy hair and tape holding his glasses together. His name appeared in the bottom left corner of the hologram: Oliver Goodwell, concerned citizen. “This is the president’s fault!” the man shouted, pumping his fist in the air. “Americans are dying overseas in a war we had no business being involved in to begin with. The president needs to bring our troops home.”
Back to Gregory Gilden.
“This citizen’s sentiment is echoed by many people across the United States of America,” he said. He continued to speak over new video showing a mob. Fists went flying. Signs were dropped, and demonstrators went running away from the brawl that had broken out. “In fact, this morning protesters gathered in front of the White House. It wasn’t long before a scuffle started among them, and police arrested four of the individuals.”
Britt cleared her throat. “Have you stopped to think about how the vice president confronting Douglass is going to change things? This was what he was talking about. Imagine—these people are fighting against one another over what? Regulations? It’s so stupid, isn’t it?”