by Jason Parent
“I’ll arrange everything on the dining room table,” Kazi replied. “I assume we’re supposed to sleep on those beds in the other room, but they’re far too soft for my liking.”
Beds? Tryst glanced at the human sleeping arrangements, soft linens for soft people. She wondered what it would feel like to sleep without the warm soil beneath her. She doubted if she’d be able to sleep at all.
“The floor will be fine. Let the human have a bed. See to your task, and get some sleep. We have a big day ahead of us. I’m sure the humans will have many questions for our finest scientific mind,” Lenyx said, giving Kazi a nod and a smile, a rare display of deference.
Tryst raised an ear. Now isn’t the time to be soft. She wouldn’t dare question her leader aloud. He’s been hard on Kazi, but without discipline…
Kazi grabbed their uniforms, weapons and some research equipment, the few supplies they could carry when they left their ship. They had stuffed them into two large U.S. Army duffle bags, compliments of Lieutenant Westfield. Kazi took each by its handle and disappeared into the kitchen. Tryst watched him suspiciously as he left. His lips were curled into a sneer. She knew his look well. It usually meant he was up to no good.
Once Kazi had left, Tryst scanned the room for Milliken and Connor. She found them deep in conversation, sitting together on the couch as if they were ignorant of their species’ patent differences. Milliken was making good on his promise to the human, answering all sorts of questions about their home.
Although they lacked privacy, she felt she could speak freely with Lenyx without further interruption. Unveiling themselves to the humans was a huge step, not one she thought they should take lightly, if at all. She had been against the idea from the start.
“What if something goes wrong?”
“What could possibly go wrong?” Lenyx asked, smiling. She knew he was making light of the potential danger, a relaxed side of him she only saw when they were alone. Lenyx was more than just the proud leader the others knew. He had compassion that was atypical of their kind, that he couldn’t show lest he be thought weak.
Tryst didn’t see it that way. She loved him more for it. But at that moment, she wanted caution more than compassion. “Our first encounter with the humans didn’t exactly go according to interplanetary travel procedure.”
“There are interplanetary travel procedures?” he asked, laughing.
A joke? Tryst was stunned. He was the last person she would have expected to downplay something this important. The one time Lenyx wasn’t serious was the one time she wanted him to be. She frowned.
“There may be a lot riding on this,” she said.
“We’ll be taking no chances, and I’ll be right beside you the whole time.” He engulfed her in his arms, nestling his chin in her hair. She pulled him in tighter.
“Be careful tomorrow,” she whispered.
“You, too.”
●●●
Kazi placed their identical, all-black uniforms on the dining room table with meticulous precision. Each Symorian had fresh garments, their original clothing caked in mud and, in Lenyx’s case, newly porous. They had black boots with cleated bottoms, no laces. Each pair of gloves resembled dishwashing gloves with longer, narrower fingers.
He assembled each item neatly, folding the uniforms side by side, ordered by their owners’ ranks. The corners of each fold were a perfect ninety degrees; the spacing between each stack exactly six inches. The humans might call him anal-retentive, but Kazi simply preferred order to chaos, order that the humans lacked, and that his leader failed to inspire.
Each pile looked the same, only differing in size. Kazi’s was the smallest. The runt of the litter, as the humans would say. That’s what they think of me.
After the rain, Kazi experienced an influx of the others’ thoughts. They came in jumbled, convoluted, and terribly confusing. But he glimpsed enough to know the others didn’t respect him. His opinion never mattered. It was always Lenyx’s way or no way.
Back home, that was normal. But here on Earth, in the United States of America, democracy reigned. Kazi laughed at the concept. Earth needs a forceful hand to guide it, a little taste of might being right.
He smoothed out a crease in his commander’s uniform. Anger boiled within him until the pressure became too much. He gripped the material fiercely, nearly tearing it apart before he could check his temper. Lenyx held him back. He had always held Kazi back.
He released his breath. We should be enslaving these underlings, not lowering ourselves to their level. Lenyx would hear none of it. Kazi had the right of it. He wasn’t an idiot. He wasn’t a child. His opinion mattered.
After removing their weapons from the duffle bags, he examined each for oil and grime. With a swab and cleanser, he polished each weapon until it shone. Once they were clean, he placed them one by one over their owners’ uniforms, even though he knew they would not be taking the weapons with them tomorrow.
At last, he came to his own. Kazi stared at the sharp tips of his daggers, their points nearly as narrow as needles. He carried them over to the sink and tore them from his gloves. He polished the blades angrily, feeling like a pariah among his own crew. His knives glimmered, a spotless shine. He felt like getting them dirty. In one blade, he saw his reflection. In that, he saw his contempt.
Kazi returned to the table, his blades still in his hands. It’s my turn. We’ve been given a new playground and all the tools needed to own it. Maybe it’s time I played.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Today marks a brand-new day in the history of not only our country, but of our planet. Since the beginning of the Space Age, we have transcended boundaries and overcome obstacles to put mankind on the moon; send probes to Mars, Jupiter and beyond; and obtain soil specimens filled with elements and minerals only found in the farthest reaches of our galaxy. And in our exploration of the cosmos, we have always longed to find that which has consistently eluded us—life!”
Tryst listened as President Allison Kennedy’s words blared through the speakers of a television monitor set overhead. Connor stood beside her, repeatedly clicking a pen he held by his thigh. His face beamed. He seemed more excited to see the aliens revealed to the entire nation than he’d been to behold them firsthand.
Milliken appeared as uncomfortable as she was. He shifted his weight repeatedly from one foot to the other. Kazi seemed uncharacteristically cheerful. And her leader, Lenyx, was as unreadable as he’d always been.
The aliens received detailed instructions. Each had his or her mark. As Tryst understood it, the afternoon involved a quick, televised meet-and-greet, followed by some more serious deliberation behind closed doors with the President and her closest advisors. They had spent the morning rehearsing under the orchestration of the White House Press Secretary, who bravely shook Tryst’s hand to test for unanticipated incineration. The Symorians were to be put on display, paraded around like prized poodles. They’d been instructed to wear their black hair tied back, to walk slowly and less aggressively, to smile with lips pressed closed. Everything about them had been scrutinized, criticized and censured until they comported with what the Press Secretary thought friendly aliens should be like. Tryst wondered which one of her crew would win Best in Show.
“I am proud to announce that on Wednesday, April 24, at approximately 2:55 a.m, life found us,” President Kennedy continued. The sound of cheers halted her speech and echoed through the hallway where Tryst and her crew were standing. Even some of the Secret Service agents nearby were looking at her and her comrades and clapping. Tryst didn’t understand their applause. She and her kind were there because someone had screwed up, plain and simple. The humans acted as though she was meant to be there.
After the crowd settled, President Kennedy’s voice once again boomed over the speakers. “Calling themselves Symorians, four individuals of an alien species landed their spacecraft in a lake in upstate New Hampshire. Without knowledge of Earth or its indigenous species, they courageous
ly exited their vessel, establishing first contact with a geologist investigating their crash site.” The crowd again ignited with uproarious cheers and whistles.
Connor smiled at Tryst. “That’s not entirely accurate,” he said. “But I’m good with that version of events if you guys are.” She ignored him, trying to remain focused as she waited for their big entrance.
“Since that moment only two days ago,” President Kennedy said, “the Symorians have learned our language and customs. They seek friendship and diplomacy with the human race and are anxious to share their science and technology for the betterment of all humankind. Hopefully, they can learn a thing or two from us, as well.”
Mild, forced-sounding laughter drifted into Tryst’s ears. Her heart began to beat a little faster. President Kennedy’s speech neared its conclusion, signaling the dreaded moment where she’d be forced to runway-model herself across a stage for gawking spectators, to play nice with the Americans’ exalted ruler. The theatrics sickened her. It was such a waste of time. She was unsure how Americans could ever accomplish anything if it required all that buildup first. She paced, waiting for her cue.
“From here, I will travel with the Symorians to the United Nations, where they will meet many of our world’s leaders in a celebration of our united spirit. So, without further ado, allow me to be the first to present four individuals who have travelled a long way from home, who have put to rest a highly debated question, who have stirred our imaginations and reinvigorated our fascination with the final frontier, and who will forever change life on this planet as we know it.”
As President Kennedy’s speech ended, those in attendance stood and clapped as the camera panned across them. Tryst watched them on the television screen as they repeatedly struck their hands together in a masochistic display, barbarically welcoming her kind into their overly ritualistic world. She turned to face the entranceway as the doors swung open. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they were walking into a trap. The rumbling and hollering inside the conference room did little to ease her discomfort.
“It’s time,” an agent said, propping open the door with his heel. “Walk slowly and stick to the script.”
“Are you ready?” Lenyx asked Tryst as he moved past her to his mark. Once in position, he turned and offered a comforting smile.
“If I must be.” She shrugged, but her uneasiness would not fall off her shoulders.
“Smile and nod at those you make eye contact with, standard human etiquette,” he said. “I will do the talking. It will be over before you know it.”
“Sir.” A second agent beckoned from the doorway. He entered the room. Lenyx followed, temporarily disappearing from her sight.
“You’re supposed to follow him,” Kazi said, his lips so close to her neck that she could feel his breath on it. Tryst smiled weakly and nodded, then entered the press room.
It looked a lot bigger on the monitor. Tryst didn’t think the room could fit more than a few hundred humans, but the noise made by those inside suggested thousands. The room was rectangular in shape with its shorter walls, about thirty yards across, located behind the podium and at the far end. Between Tryst and the far wall were humans lined up in rows of eighteen, each standing in front of a chair. Most held recording devices, but a few older journalists wielded clipboards or notepads and writing instruments. All eyes were on Tryst as she ascended the three steps up to the stage.
Lenyx stood beside President Kennedy, who waited beside her podium for the room to settle. Both were facing the crowd and wearing silly grins. Tryst imagined she looked just as silly as she took her rightful spot beside her commander. She then turned to face the crowd, poised like a mannequin for her window-shopping audience. Kazi filed in behind her, followed by Milliken and a host of Secret Service types with suits and earpieces.
As the four aliens posed for the world to take them in, the crowd erupted. Tryst shut her eyes, wincing from the obnoxious clatter. Next to her, Lenyx appeared calm, dignified, a true leader. On her other side stood Kazi. His smile was so big that his fangs curled over his lips.
Excellent. She shook her head. Leave it to Kazi to project meekness. She hoped Milliken wasn’t making the same mistake, unable to see the giant’s face in her peripheral vision. She was afraid to guess what kind of conclusions the humans would draw from his six-inch incisors.
After what seemed like an eternity, the applause lessened, eventually fading to a trickle as President Kennedy stepped in front of Lenyx. Then, silence. Tryst watched, suffocating in the silence. She’s been prepped not to make contact with our skin. At least I know Lenyx will be careful. She despised the fact that humans needed to be treated so delicately, such fragile creatures. Hers was a species not known for delicacy.
Tryst took deep breaths. Lenyx was garbed in full uniform. She and the others were, too. There was no way for the President to touch their skin unless she tried to poke one of them in the face. If she were dumb enough to do that, she would deserve the consequences. Slowly, the tension left Tryst. She tried to coax its progress, telling herself everything would be fine.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” President Kennedy said in a booming voice. “It is with great honor that I present to you Lenyx… Tryst… Kazi… and Milliken.” She progressed down the line of aliens as she announced each one’s name.
Then, the moment Tryst feared most arrived. President Kennedy, who had moved across the stage and now stood next to Milliken, extended her hand to shake his. Tryst held her breath. She could sense the President’s trepidation, but like the good leader the politician seemed to be, President Kennedy didn’t show it.
Milliken, too, seemed hesitant. He looked at Lenyx, who gave him a slight nod. Milliken then took the President’s hand in his. He looked like a yeti walking hand-in-hand with a toddler. As their hands shook, cameras flashed and blinded Tryst. The crowd again erupted in thunderous applause.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, President Kennedy,” Tryst could barely hear Milliken say. He sounded more cordial than she had ever heard him. He’s learned a lot from that human. But he had unwittingly stolen her greeting. She struggled to think of something else to say.
Her muscles remained flexed, but the worst seemed to be over. She canvassed the crowd and saw no sign of danger. She wanted to lean in close to Lenyx, to tuck underneath his arm, but she knew it would only frustrate him, diminishing the appearance of strength. Tryst had a different view. She thought it might make them look more human.
President Kennedy moved toward Kazi, extending her arm to greet the unusually animated alien. Was he finally living for the moment? Did he at last recognize the possibilities this unique planet offered? If so, he’d picked a strange time to cast off his misgivings. Tryst wished she knew his secret.
Kazi reached for the President’s hand and shook it forcefully, all the while bearing a grin that bared his large choppers. His smile revealed something more than mere eagerness. A gleam twinkled in his eye, a hint of lust or craving, then was gone. Whatever it had been, it seemed animalistic.
Her feeling appeared to be shared by many in the room. The hands of more than a few agents drifted toward their hips, ready to pull out the pistols hiding beneath their suit jackets. Even the crowd hushed, a healthy dose of anxiety likely inflicting them. But Kazi released President Kennedy’s hand, and she seemed both unharmed and amused by it.
“It’s great to meet you, too,” she said, laughing.
“Believe me, the pleasure is all mine,” Kazi said.
President Kennedy gave a curious smirk to Kazi, which he returned. Something about Kazi just seemed wrong. Tryst had no time to think it over. The President headed her way.
Tryst kept her panic hidden. Her only justifiable concern was that she might do or say something embarrassing or stupid. She was a moment away from meeting the President of the United States, what she imagined might have been a big deal to many. It was a matter of little consequence to her. In fact, Tryst would have preferred to have foregone th
e whole ordeal.
“We ladies have to stick together,” President Kennedy said quietly, following her statement with a wink. “Ours is still a man’s world.”
Tryst wasn’t sure what she meant. She remembered Lenyx’s advice and smiled and nodded like a hand puppet. She looked down to see President Kennedy’s hand extended before her and took it into her own. The President’s free hand then latched onto her wrist. Tryst mimicked the behavior, understanding it to be some modification of the traditional handshake. She didn’t appreciate the modification. Modifications weren’t part of the plan.
As their hands remained clasped, flashbulbs burned into Tryst’s retinas. She blinked as if she had a nervous twitch. Finally, the flashes subsided. Her part in this dog-and-pony show had come to an end. President Kennedy left her, the alien commander the final stop on her handshaking tour.
Lenyx greeted the President with a welcoming smile as she approached him. She smiled back.
“I am hopeful that we’re starting a lifelong friendship here, Commander,” she said. She extended her hand as she had done three times previously.
“I believe we are,” Lenyx replied, accepting her hand in his.
Tryst stood a little taller. She filled with pride, letting herself appreciate the magnitude of what her leader, her lover, had accomplished. Lenyx had taken the first step toward securing their survival. Kazi hung over her shoulder, eyes fixed on the union of two worlds’ leaders. His breathing came in short, quick bursts. Is he panting?
Thousands of pictures were snapped in a matter of seconds, distracting Tryst from her subordinate’s exuberance. The strobe light effect returned. President Kennedy and Lenyx posed for the cameras, their right hands locked in a firm embrace.