The cat yawned in approval. Obviously he knew that already.
When Jean-Marc stopped for gas, he bought a paper and scanned the headlines. What was the world coming to? Even the serious New York Times reported UFO sightings in France, Arkansas, and Nevada, linking the latter to an unexplained earthquake!
*****
Within a few hours, Jean-Marc sat in Debbie's office in Washington, delivering the dossier on Chemitek. Hopefully, it would guarantee an indictment. With the support of several environmental organizations involved in the Crusade, he could now rest assured that the harmful dumping would stop.
"I do not understand how or why Michael does all this," Fontaine told Debbie over another cup from the coffee machine.
"It's extraordinary, isn't it? I still don't quite understand it myself. The story he tells is unbelievable and I suspect he did not tell me all. Such selfless dedication amazes even me, a friend since childhood."
"Tori says he used to be different." Jean-Marc sipped the tepid brew.
Debbie nodded. "He's changed so much, I can hardly recognize him. Last time I saw him he seemed empowered by the Crusade and the results are beyond any reasonable expectation. It's almost as if he wasn't human anymore, Mr. Fontaine." Debbie’s hand shook a little when she drank from her coffee mug.
"Please call me Jean-Marc."
"All right, Jean-Marc. I'm worried about Michael. His own life does not seem to matter to him anymore. If it weren't for Jennifer, I doubt that he would still be among us. He always had charisma and passion, but now he shows great control. Yet, something in him scares me, as if he has become some kind of mystic."
"What do you mean?"
"Since Jennifer’s return, he acts like a secluded monk. He hardly sees or talks to anyone. He spends most of his time in deep meditation. He has withdrawn from the world he's trying to save, as if he was no longer part of it."
"But, I thought he was active in the Crusade!" To Jean-Marc, this didn’t make any sense. Fishing for gum in his pocket, he offered a piece to Debbie.
She accepted with a smile. "The campaign he started gets stronger and more successful as time passes, but without his physical presence. He manages all of it in total isolation. Apparently, the Crusade only needs the power of his mind."
"Really?" Jean-Marc felt renewed respect.
"Frightening, isn't it, to know that one person can have so much power."
"How do you know all this if he does not keep in touch?"
"Jennifer keeps me informed. She's worried about her father too. He speaks in riddles, scarcely eats or drinks. I fear for his health... And his sanity... Since you're going there, could I ask you to see if we can help him, and please keep me informed?"
Jean-Marc rose from his chair. "I will be glad to oblige, Debbie. Thanks again for everything."
Debbie walked him to the door.
Winking, Jean-Marc added, "I'd like to talk some more, but I hate to think what that cat will do to my car if I leave him alone too long."
*****
Immediately after his victory over Krastinios, Michael understood that he had only won a battle. Although he had destroyed his archenemy, the war itself had yet to be fought. Meditating in isolation, he hoped to achieve the level of consciousness that would allow him to participate in the great conflict to come: his father's war.
"Daddy?" Jennifer sent a mental request as she entered the small alien craft where Michael had established his new quarters.
"Yes, Jen. Come in, honey." He eased out of his meditating position.
"I brought you something to eat." She hesitated only an instant before setting the tray aside, then settled in a comfortable position, sitting in mid air close to her father.
"Thank you, Sweetheart, but I'm not hungry. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. This is a purification ritual. I want to become a better person."
"I was wondering... About Krastinios... How come he was so nice and so mean at the same time?"
"No one is all good or all bad, Jennifer. The best people can be mean at times, and the meanest people can be sweet as honey. Although in this case, I believe the sweetness was fake."
"Isn't there anybody who is only good and never mean?"
"I don't think so, but there is someone close to it. As a matter of fact, I was just on my way to see him. Now that you met your mother, how would you like to meet your grandfather and your grandmother?"
"The one who hurt you when you were a kid?"
"No. My real father... He may seem a little strange at first, but he's a really good guy. He lives in a spacecraft like this one, but much bigger. He's not from this planet."
"An alien? My grandfather? Cool..."
"He only looks weird."
"How weird?"
Michael sent Jennifer a mental picture of his father. He knew how sensitive his daughter was and wanted to prepare her.
"Wow!" she exclaimed. "I've seen him before... In a dream, I think..."
"I thought you never dreamed."
"I just remembered now. Let's go see him."
They straightened into their invisible chairs, and Michael guided Jennifer's mind into focus on the controls of the alien craft. She followed his mind patterns, observing how he set it in motion, ever so gently. Michael could sense her curiosity and her excitement. He enjoyed surprising the young girl with exhilarating experiences. She picked up the challenge every time. He liked that in his daughter.
The ride, despite the incredible acceleration, proved smooth and light. No jolts, no temperature changes, no eardrum sensations, not even a swishing sound. Just a smell of sweet licorice... It took only a few seconds to leave the atmosphere. Once in space, the whole section of the hull facing Earth became transparent and Jennifer stared in awe at her native planet. Michael guided the craft toward the shaded side of the moon where his father's vessel waited.
The Blue Angels' ship was in uproar when they docked inside. Even Amrah's private quarters bustled with activity. Maria, in a turquoise leather gown decorated with beads, gave orders to naked aliens who hurried to bring the things she mentally ordered. The new addition of southwestern furniture attested to her personal touch. The material, although replicated, looked and felt real enough. Maria stopped in her tracks at the sight of the young girl holding Michael's hand. She stared as tears betrayed her joy when she touched Jennifer's long silky hair.
"Such a beautiful child, Mikie... Jennifer, you're even prettier than I imagined. No wonder your dad is so proud of you. Would you like some chocolate? I had some replicated."
"Chocolate?" Jennifer's eyes lit up as Maria seized a crystal cup full of chocolate candy in gold and silver wrappings.
"Mother, you said the magic word," Michael teased. Then he looked around and finally asked, "Where is Amrah?"
"Your father is very busy with the coming invasion and all, but he should be here any minute, since he knows you are aboard." Maria nervously fingered the arrowhead of her necklace.
Jennifer, munching on chocolate, stared openly at the nakedness of the bluish beings apparently working to furnish the place to Maria's wishes. The older woman made her guests sit on a couch, like the perfect hostess of her strange new home.
Jennifer glanced with surprise at the dream catchers decorating the bulkheads, the Kachina dolls on synthetic shelves beside long pipes that smelled like sweet burnt leaves. Brightly colored rugs covered the smooth floors.
"Dad, lots of people don't believe in aliens. Why?"
"I guess it takes seeing to believe. Human nature tends to fear the unknown. For many, it's more comfortable to deny than to fear. Right, Mom?"
Maria chortled, playing with a lacy handkerchief, obviously delighted by the discovery of her granddaughter.
"But there is nothing to fear if they are nice, right?" Jennifer asked.
"Nothing at all," Maria answered. “They are so powerful, they can protect you from any evil spirit. Your grandfather would never let anything bad happen to any of us. Right, Mikie?"
"I'm afraid they are not all like that, Mom," Michael objected. "Krastinios was the son of a particularly bad one, a snake-alien."
"I don't like snakes," Jennifer declared with conviction.
"Neither do I...” Michael echoed. “Here comes your grandfather."
Maria bent toward Jennifer and whispered, "Amrah is very old and wiser than a medicine man. You should treat him with great respect."
Amrah appeared then, and his mental presence entered the three minds at the same time. They all stared at each other for a few seconds, sharing in a warm, silent greeting. Jennifer stayed in contact with Amrah longer than her father or Maria, while Michael marveled at the obvious link transfiguring his daughter. She smiled, expressing more wonder than any word could.
"Well, my son, your daughter will be easier to train than you. She already masters complex principles."
"Really?" Michael felt a little uncomfortable at the thought of Jennifer being trained by Amrah.
"She has wide open pathways and no mental objection of any kind. She will be very powerful some day." Amrah sounded confident.
"I'm glad to hear that," Michael answered automatically, but inside he was not so sure he liked it. Power usually meant dangers to confront, and he preferred for his daughter the comfortable life he himself never had. To change the subject, Michael announced the purpose of his visit. "How long do we have until Lufriec gets here?"
Upon a subtle sign from Amrah, Maria took Jennifer by the hand. “Come with me for a tour of a real flying saucer," she said to her granddaughter. "These two have business to discuss." As she led Jennifer away, the child looked back to her father for reassurance. When he responded with a smile, Jennifer followed Maria with no more hesitation.
Sitting on the couch, Amrah looked as comfortable in the new earthly arrangement of his quarters as he had always been in his barren alien decor. "In three or four days, we expect them to reach our vicinity." He sounded preoccupied.
"Will you be ready then? How can I help?" Michael shifted position. He thought about the irony of it all. In three days it would be Earth Day.
"We are as ready now as we will ever be, but time does not matter as much as timing. Nevertheless, the Reptilian fleet is several thousand strong, and we have no precise idea of how sophisticated their weapons and defenses are."
"How much do you know about them?"
Amrah shrugged, a strange movement for his slim frame. "We know very little since they evolved along a different path. Long ago, they used magic and rituals. Their strength always lay in numbers. They thrived on adversity and conflict, burning with a passion we could not understand. Blindly they followed their warlord and seemed to enjoy cruelty... A disconcerting trait."
"Sounds familiar. We’ve had a few of those throughout history."
"Unfortunately, as a peaceful people, we have lost the will and, I fear, also the ability to fight. I thought maybe we could use your wild instincts. You could teach us by sharing the passionate side of your personality with us."
"I'd be glad to help in any way I can, but I may not be the expert you need for the job." Michael wondered what kind of savage his alien father thought he was. "Did you ask for reinforcement from your home planet? You cannot face a whole fleet with only one ship."
"You see, my people do not have fighting ships." Amrah smiled at Michael’s surprise. “Besides, they never get involved in other worlds’ conflicts. My interest in Earth is very... Personal, as you may have guessed. My ship is bigger and hopefully more powerful than any of theirs, but it cannot withstand a whole fleet."
The odds didn't look good. “So, we’ll have to fight on our own?"
"Earth technology is no threat to the Reptilians. It would help, however, if your people participated mentally."
“How So?”
Amrah hesitated. "If you lent us the energy of your collective minds, it could give us an edge, but we would need at least a third of the population to participate."
Michael whistled. "One third? That's no small feat. I wonder if I can rally that many. The population at large is not quite ready for the full impact of this news. It could mean panic. I can see the headlines, 'Aliens waging war in our sky with Earth as the coveted prize.' No. We would achieve panic, not a pool of mental energy. How about a mass visualization? Can you draw on that kind of energy pool? Would that help?" Michael was running out of ideas.
"It might work," Amrah said with some enthusiasm. "We could use the power generated by a dynamic picture, something hypnotic that would focus the mind."
"How about all the media on Sunday showing a picture of Earth seen from space, revolving slowly, bathed in a blue aura of health, peace, and harmony?" Michael pictured it in his mind.
"Good. We can broadcast an image of your planet, live from space via your telecommunication satellites. Maybe we could add an appropriate soothing sound, something they never heard before, something compelling that would induce concentration... We could maintain the broadcast for twenty-four hours on all frequencies. Do you see any problem on your end?"
"I like it. I can see it from here, a big, blue planet on the front page of the newspapers. I have only three days to warn the TV networks, though. We could make up a story about an international space program experiment in conjunction with a worldwide meditation for Earth Day."
Michael wondered briefly about the ethical implications. He would be lying, but he saw no alternative. "With Debbie's help, we might be able to wing it. By the time the space committees officially deny any scientific experiment, it will be too late. Some governments may even take the credit."
"I hope they get a chance." Amrah’s dark eyes rested fondly on Michael.
During the short trip back to Earth, both Michael and Jennifer remained silent. Michael grimly pondered the slim chances to repel the oncoming invasion while Jennifer, unaware of the threat, obviously tried to digest all the wonders she had just witnessed.
*****
Jean-Marc Fontaine felt relieved when he finally saw the landmark he was looking for around the bend. This Arkansas farmhouse had proven harder to find than he had imagined. He longed to hold Tori in his arms and could hardly contain his curiosity as to this newfound child of hers.
Jean-Marc also wanted to find out how his wife had ended up in this place. Relinquishing the ever-appraising cat would also come as a relief. Not that the animal caused any worries or complications. It was well behaved. Despite multiple attempts at French dialogue, however, neither man nor feline trusted the other.
"Well, Shadow, my reluctant friend, you should see your rightful owner soon." The cat perked one ear, showing some interest.
The stately car bounced ahead of a trail of dust toward the isolated cluster of wooden structures constituting an ordinary farm. Two children emerged from the barn and stared at the silver car coming down the road. Tori came out of the trailer, flushed, arranging her hair in haste and checking her slim-fitting jeans. When Jean-Marc opened the door and stepped out, she rushed into his arms.
"Mon amour, it's been so long. I missed you so much..." He gathered her in a tender embrace and kissed her mouth with hunger.
"I know... I missed you too," Tori answered, as soon as he let her breathe again.
By then, the children had joined them, and the curious head of Shadow peeked through the open door. One child spotted the cat in a flash and called its name. That was all the feline needed to overcome his mistrust of strangers. He ran into the girl’s legs. Jean-Marc assumed it was Jennifer. She picked up and hugged the poor thing too tight, but the cat did not seem to mind and purred all the same.
*****
"How did you find me? I thought I'd never see you again," Jennifer purred back to the pet. Then, remembering the company she was in, she made formal presentations. "Clara, this is Shadow... Shadow, this is my cousin Clara."
Tori laughed and, still clinging to Jean-Marc, introduced him.
"Thanks for bringing Shadow..." Jennifer felt a little intimidated by this elega
nt man who was so nice to her and her mom. She didn't know quite what else to say, but her smile must have been explanation enough.
The Frenchman smiled back. "You are welcome, Jennifer. Nice to finally meet you... It is a pleasure to see the happiness in your eyes." Then he turned back to Tori and lavished her with his attentions.
*****
How could Michael possibly meet the required participation? He had teleported back to Debbie’s office in Washington D.C. to take part in the craziest campaign of all. How could he promote such an event in three days? One third of the population? It was far more than rallying ten percent of the votes at election time. Michael doubted his ability to succeed. It took most of his energy just to contact enough key people on such short notice. Thank God for the Internet.
On day two, Michael found himself sending and receiving faxes, phone calls and e-mail at an accelerated rate. Data traveled back and forth across the planet in every known language. The twenty phone lines rang like on a TV marathon drive. Electronic equipment, loaned or donated, crowded the small Washington office. The official website went on overload several times. Fortunately, computer experts had rushed to the rescue.
Michael's concentration was put to the test by the constant racket. The buzzing and beeping tones, the rings, the excited conversations of the volunteers helping him... Even the radiating disturbance of computer monitors and keyboards affected his ability to visualize a positive outcome. The smell of strong coffee permeated Debbie's office, transformed for a few days into World Visualization headquarters.
Archangel Crusader Page 20