“Our sermon next week shall address how we can protect ourselves and our loved ones against the lure of evil and sin," he had confidentially proclaimed the Sunday previous. You should be able to compose this in your sleep, he scolded himself. He had a particularly arousing speech already written liberally quoting the Bible, Shakespeare and Ann Landers, and he had originally planned to dust it off for this weekend. The events in the news had changed all that. A serial killer caught in Montana. An investigation into a land development scam that had bankrupted hundreds of retired investors. The sexual abuse charges brought against a deacon in Memphis. Four local junior high students suspended because they were caught bringing guns into school. His canned sermon, brimming with platitudes and witty quotes, now appeared totally inadequate against such an onslaught from the hordes of Evil. His pen traveled wordlessly across the paper. *Get thee from me, Satan.*
There was a quiet knock on his study door. "Come in."
His housekeeper entered timidly. "There is someone here to see you. One of your parishioners," Mrs. Bachman said.
He frowned, then glanced at his grandfather clock standing regally in the corner. "At ten o'clock? I have an office. Couldn't he make an appointment like everyone else?"
"He seems quite upset. He said he didn't want to trouble you but it was very important."
It had better be. Father Wenington set down his notepad and sighed. "Send him in."
She left, then returned quickly with a short, squat man dressed in ill-fitting suit and jacket. Worried eyes peered out from glasses much too small for him; sweat beaded on his expansive forehead. "I do apologize for visiting you so late, Father," he offered his clammy hand. "But I really felt I had to talk to you as soon as possible."
The priest forced a smile. "I always have time for my parishioners, Mr.?"
"Dr. Carter," he filled in the blank quickly.
The Carters. After a moment he placed them, irregulars who usually sat quietly in the rear pews. She occasionally helped with fund-raising and other activities; her husband seemed to attend mainly because of her. But they tithed properly. "Yes, Dr. Carter. And how is your wife, Mimi?" he asked as he led the man to the chair across from him. "Can I get you anything?" He glanced at his glass of brandy. "Coffee perhaps? Soda?"
The doctor shook his head. "Coffee, if it isn't too much trouble."
"Mrs. Bachman, coffee for Dr. Carter." He took his own seat and studied his visitor. The man had not removed his jacket. Good; he won't be staying long. "And what can I do for you this evening?"
"It concerns something that recently happened at the lab," he began, then smiled weakly. "Perhaps I shouldn't be troubling you with this at all."
Father Wenington nodded as he remembered. Carter was a biologist at Epison Pharmaceuticals. "No trouble at all. Please continue."
"We have been working on a possible AIDS vaccine"
"A laudable goal."
"And highly profitable," he said with a laugh. "Not as laudable as one might think."
"Go on.”
"Anyway, one of our experiments became contaminated. Totally irreproducible. We should have just pitched it but then the tests don't take that long. You never know what you might find."
Father Wenington nodded as he sipped at his brandy. Get to your point.
Dr. Carter sensed his impatience. "Although our tests are not complete, the results still appear incontrovertible. What we seem to have discovered is a serum that produces immortality."
Father Wenington nearly jumped from his chair. "You what?"
Dr. Carter reached in a jacket pocket and pulled out a small vial. "As I said, totally irreproducible. Because of the ramifications, especially from a religious standpoint, I felt it best to discuss the situation with you. I really don't know what to do with it."
"I'll tell you what to do with it," the priest said, jumping from his chair. "How you could even think of bringing something as foul as this into our world!" He seized the test tube from the stunned scientist's hand and nearly ran to his fireplace. "After I destroy this, I demand you burn your notes and make no attempt to ever recreate this evil!" With that warning he emptied the vial in the raging fire. He was shaking with anger when he retook his seat.
"I'm sorry," the doctor offered after a long silence. "I was concerned about the religious ramifications of an immortality serum, which is why I wanted to consult with you. I did not intend any offense to you or God."
The priest paused, his drink halfway to his lips. "Excuse me, what did you say?"
"About the immortality serum? That it could possibly be an affront to God's will or our purpose in life."
Father Wenington ceased hearing the rest of the man's apologia. Instead he set his drink down with a heavy hand. "Heaven help me," he said dully. "I thought you said 'immorality.'"
THE VALUE OF PATIENCE
Adam watched silently as the bird struggled to conquer its prey. He liked sitting by the creek in the afternoon. Most of his friends at the Home didn’t like to walk this far, so he had the trees and shade and water to himself. And, currently, to a bird trying to wrest an earthworm from its underground lair. He wondered briefly if he could help it, but he had no idea how.
He heard a whuffling sound from behind, then felt a familiar tap on his shoulder, turned and saw a warden standing beside him. It made clicking sounds with its beak while one thick eyestalk gestured behind it. Its intent was clear; he was wanted back at the Home. He stood and started walking even as one tentacle circled his wrist. Wardens always appeared in a hurry; he half walked, half jogged behind the bulbous furry creature as they made their way back up the trail. He wondered briefly about the bird’s plight but forgot it as they neared the Home.
Several of his friends were playing on the swings and slides outside, but they ignored him as he approached. Tony was sitting by himself on a teeter-totter and Adam wanted to join him, but the warden wouldn’t allow it. Instead he was pulled inexorably toward the large brick complex that appeared out of place on the island. Adam was sure, now, that Grandma wanted to see him.
The warden stopped at the revolving glass door; its wide hairy torso prevented it from using the entrance. It released Adam and stepped back. Adam had difficulty using the door himself but reluctantly forced his way inside.
The coolness struck him and he shivered. Grandma had explained that it was air conditioning. The wardens don’t like it, she had told him; that was the reason she kept it so cold. Adam’s torn shirt and pants were ill-suited for it as well, but he decided not to complain. It was rare that Grandma wanted to see any of them privately. Perhaps she had a special treat for him!
Although the corridors were long and confusing, he knew exactly where he should go. He only had to backtrack once before he found her room at one end of the darkened complex. Shivering, he knocked timidly on her door. “Come in,” the wrinkled voice called out and he entered cautiously.
He had not seen her for several weeks, but it appeared nothing had changed. She sat in her wheelchair staring out a window, then looked up at him and smiled. “Adam, my dear, so good to see you again! Come here and give your Granny a kiss.”
Adam dutifully shuffled over and kissed her forehead, then hugged her. “Not so tight, dear,” she admonished gently. He reluctantly released her.
She patted the bed next to her. “Sit here, please. You’re much too big to sit on my lap anymore.” He complied. She studied him a moment. “You need a haircut,” she said firmly after a moment. “Have the wardens been treating you okay?”
He nodded.
“They should, they owe us that much. Do you get enough to eat?”
“Oh, yes,” he answered eagerly. “We had pineapple and bananas for breakfast today!”
“You’ve always had a good memory for meals,” she said glumly. She opened the drawer in the table next to her. “Have you been studying your lessons like I asked?”
“Yes.”
“What’s five and five?”
“Ten,”
he responded almost immediately with pride.
“Very good,” she smiled. She handed him a small book. “Read this.”
He opened the familiar story book and recited, almost verbatim, the saga of the cat and the hat. He only stumbled over a few words. She nodded in encouragement. “Much better than last time. At least you understand what you’re reading. Cindy can fly through it, but the words have as much impact as wind on a rock.” She studied him another minute. “I’m getting tired, dear. You probably want to go outside and play with your friends, don’t you?”
Adam nodded. He liked to see Grandma, but the visits were always so confusing and tiring. Besides, the air conditioning was particularly strong in her room. He wanted to go somewhere warm.
She gave him a smile. “You may go. Perhaps we can see each other again next week. I’ll have the wardens get you when I need you.”
Adam gave her one more hug then left, nearly running down the empty halls to get outside. He was also getting hungry, which meant it was nearly time for dinner!
She sighed as the door closed, then returned the story book to the desk. She pulled out another, thicker volume, her diary, and moved her wheelchair closer to the window for better light. She didn’t bother retrieving her reading glasses; her eyesight had degenerated to the point where glasses were nearly useless. She needed a new prescription but, of course, that was impossible. Holding the book close, she began to read the handwriting of a much younger woman.
The attack had been rapid and devastating. I was only three when they appeared, but my parents told me everything. We knew they were there, of course; they couldn’t destroy our telescopes, not from that distance at least. They destroyed everything else. The Goddard space station, the moon settlements, our entire satellite network. In just a matter of a few short hours the invaders had entirely eliminated our space defense capabilities.
“It was like shooting ducks in a barrel,” my father described it. Several countries--the US, China, France--tried to fight back. Every launched missile or rocket or plane was successfully intercepted and destroyed. Armies were mobilized around theworld as we prepared ourselves for the invasion. Unfortunately it never came. It was something far, far worse.
The warden chirped as it set a plate before Adam. Around the picnic table his friends, six in all, sat and fought playfully over the brimming baskets of sliced pineapples, coconuts and bananas. They always ate outside unless it rained. He didn’t know why, but the wardens hated the rain. They never joined in when he and his friends would splash around in the nearby creek, either. Instead they remained stoically on the bank, maintaining a safe distance from the participants.
Another ring of pineapple dropped on his plate. “For you,” Mary said and smiled.
Adam nodded to her. “Thank you,” he said between mouthfuls. Grandma had insisted that they show good manners to each other. It was one of the rules she had taught them rigorously: Be polite. Even to the wardens, she had insisted. After lunch he and Mary played on the swings together. He didn’t even retaliate when, in a pique, she kicked him. He didn’t cry, either.
Grandma sighed as, through the great glass doors, she watched the wardens watching the children. “Are we some kind of game preserve to you?” she muttered. Although the aliens were virtually indistinguishable to her, she was certain that their captors changed frequently. She grimaced as she watched a shorter warden approach the children. It set a plate of fruit nervously on the table, then hastened back to the others. Its actions caused a reaction which she could only equate to amusement. “Just like a zoo, you bastards. Don’t try to pet me. I bite,” she said and wheeled quickly away into the hallway.
She unerringly navigated the aisles to another section of the complex, one she had stopped letting the children enter. She input a code word on a recessed panel and a hidden door slide open. Inside, a massive network of machines awaited her. She wheeled herself over to a table housing a computer, microphone, monitor and several CD drives. Even though more advanced technology was available, her group had chosen the CD format because it was simpler to operate and maintain; a vital concern when centuries, not just years, were a prime consideration. She coughed, trying to clear her throat, then turned on the computer. This would be the sixth CD she had recorded in the last few weeks; its title, “The Conquering of Earth.” Suppressing a tear, she began to recite from her memorized diary.
[PW1] She
They remained in our upper atmosphere for nearly a day. We watched them by radar and telescope as everything that left the ground was immediately destroyed. Civil unrest was rampant across the globe as we waited for them to Do Something. Not realizing that they already were.
Our world let out a collective sigh when they left as abruptly as they had appeared. Only one vessel remained, it’s clear intent to prevent us from regaining our outer space capabilities. Otherwise it ignored us while we tried to come to grips with our situation. It was nearly nine months later that our true situation became clear...
“Tony, take your hands out of your pants and pay attention!”
The blonde, surprised and embarrassed, looked up at Grandma. Reluctantly he did as he was told. Smiling, she turned her attention to the others. “Now, let’s go over our numbers tables once again.”
Adam recited the numbers mechanically while he stared out the window. He did not like these sessions with Grandma, inside where it was always cold, away from the sun and the breeze. He did not like the lessons, either. He would rather play with blocks or color in the books.
Tony stood. “Granny, I have to go,” and he grabbed his crotch for emphasis.
“Go ahead,” she sighed, then looked at his classmates. “Does anyone else have to go? Maybe we should take a potty break now. But don’t dawdle,” she called out quickly as they hastened to the restrooms. “When we come back we’ll have Story Time.”
Only when they had returned and seated themselves around her in a circle did she deign to open the book on her lap. It was the one she read from constantly. Adam didn’t like or understand the stories, but he listened patiently nonetheless, otherwise she would smack him across the back of his hands with her ruler. She waited until the last giggle was giggled, the last squirm squirmed, then she peered over her glasses at the pages before her. “I was just a little girl,” she began.
After reading from her diary for fifteen minutes, she closed it. “Who were those people?” she asked.
“The wardens,” they replied en masse.
“And who are we?”
“Humans.” Adam mouthed the word along with the others even if he wasn’t sure what it meant.
“You must remember that, each of you,” she stated firmly. “Once we were the rulers of this planet. We built this home, and many other wonders which, I fear, you will never get to see. No matter what happens, I want you all to remember that. Is that clear?”
They all nodded solemnly.
She smiled at them. “Okay, now we’ll have playtime. Each of you go to your play stations. You’ll find your special toys waiting for you there.”
Adam’s initial frustration changed to bright delight when he saw what she had set out for him. He opened the case carefully and hit the switch. A smile crossed his face when the monitor on the laptop sprung into life. He giggled as he sat at the table and began entering commands on the keyboard.
The others were equally pleased. Cindy was presented Grandma’s diary; she squatted under a nearby light and was immediately engrossed in the pages. Johnny was given a collection of broken clocks, motors and other small equipment which he began to expertly disassemble. Tony found a calculator, which he didn’t need, and a series of complex calculus problems to solve. Mary was given art supplies and pages of engineering diagrams which she painstakingly began to copy. Susan sat before a wall of gauges and dials which changed constantly; her fingers flew across a keyboard in front of her as she attempted to correct the alterations.
In the back, silent, Grandma watched them. “I wanted to
wait,” she told them softly. “But, dear ones, I don’t think we have much more time.” Not much time indeed.
She called them to end their tasks five hours later, which they did, reluctantly. “That will be all for today. But remember to keep working at your lessons. Johnny, will you please check out the air conditioning unit? It’s been making a lot of noise lately. Adam, please take me to my room. The rest of you are excused.”
Adam reluctantly shut off his laptop, then frowned as he watched his friends run toward the exit and sun and fun, laughing every step. He so wanted to join them! But he always obeyed Grandma. He guided her through the swinging doors and down the corridor toward her room.
“This cold is uncomfortable for you, isn’t it?” she asked as she wrapped her shawl tightly around her. Adam nodded. She patted his hand. “I’m sorry, dear. It’s uncomfortable for me as well. But it’s even more uncomfortable for them. Now slow down or we’ll miss the corridor.”
Adam obeyed. This area of the Home was unfamiliar to him.
“Turn right here. No, right, dear. Your right.”
Adam corrected himself and they started down the darkened hall. “I’ll have to ask Johnny to replace those lights,” she mused. “If we have any left. Do you like the wardens, dear?”
Adam stopped and considered. “I guess so,” he said carefully. “You’ve always taught us to like everyone.”
“I want you to like your friends. The wardens are not your friends. It’s almost funny, you know,” and she sighed as they neared her room. “The wardens don’t like cold or water. Do you know what a desert is?”
“Yes.” He understood that had to be his response even if he didn’t understand her question.
“We have plenty of deserts, totally useless, worthless deserts. We would have given them to them. We could have shared this planet! The greedy bastards!” She began sobbing. Adam tried to hug her, to comfort her and make her stop but she pushed him away. “No, none of that. There is no reason for me to force my hatred of them upon you. It’s not your fault, there’s nothing you can do about it anyway. Not now at least. Push me near the window.”
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