Operation Earth

by Maria Hammarblad

  Rachael stepped close and kissed him, slipping her tongue into his mouth. Just when he was getting into it, she glided away.

  “I have more cool stuff, you wouldn’t believe what I found at the bottom of the pantry.”

  Peter put his glass down on the table and stuffed the remaining piece of chocolate cake in his mouth. He was lightheaded and sweets might not exactly help, but probably wouldn’t make things worse either.

  How did that bottle get empty so quickly?

  He wanted to grab Rachael and kiss her again, but she was already over by the counter, dancing to some imaginary music, so he took his weapons off instead. The way this evening was going, staying away from guns might be wise.

  When she returned, she handed him a small glass with layered liquid. The bottom was yellow, the middle dark brown, and she had topped it off with something white and fluffy.

  “That’s Galliano, then coffee, I found some instant I forgot about, and on top is whipped cream. The trick is to sweep it down really quickly, so the flavors mix in your mouth.”

  This can’t be a good idea.

  He still followed her example when she slammed hers, and coughed.

  “That is so hot, and sweet, and strange.”

  “I know, it’s great, isn’t it? Want another?”

  “I guess...”

  At least the layered drink tasted better than the reddish water from the green container, and she looked so happy.

  Is this what Earthlings do?

  The next morning, Peter opened his eyes and wondered why the ceiling revolved above him. Rachael slept curled up to him with her head on his shoulder, and that seemed normal, but everything else was strange.

  His head pounded and his tongue was a size too large for his very dry mouth.

  “What the hell?”

  Speaking was difficult. The words sounded wrong.

  Rachael stirred and smiled.

  “Hey, is it morning? Good morning, Handsome.”

  “It is most definitely not a good morning.”

  She leaned on her elbow and watched him.

  “No? What’s wrong with it?”

  He rubbed his temples and squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Everything.”

  She giggled. What was so funny?

  “Are you hung-over?”

  “Am I what?” He meant to say it in a snappy tone of voice, but it came out as a groan.

  She bent forward and pressed her lips against his cheek.

  “I’ll get you some water and Aspirin.”

  “What is As-pi-rin?”

  The individual words had meaning, but put together they sounded like gibberish. Maybe she poisoned him, but why? This had to have something to do with all the strange drinks.

  “How can you be so perky?”

  Rachael put a hand on his chest, and only now did he realize he wore most of the uniform. That didn’t make any sense either.

  She sounded apologetic.

  “I probably have a better resistance to alcohol than you, because my body is used to it. Plus, you kind of... had a lot. I figured you’d be okay since you’re so big, but...”

  I had a lot? What is she talking about?

  His memories of the night before were dim, but she might be right. Once he got used to it, he had liked that yellow stuff. Galliano, she called it. There had been something more. White Russians and Black Russians. The names made no sense.

  “You could have warned me.”

  “I did.”

  She sounded amused. Maybe she was right. He had a vague memory of her telling him to take it easy.

  Now I know why some things are forbidden.

  “I’ll go get you that water.”

  “And the As-pi-rin.”

  She disappeared out of the room, and even in the poor state he was in, he couldn’t help but ogle the thin nightgown caressing her curves. The distraction worked as long as he could see her, but then the headache and all problems returned with full force.

  He fumbled up a medikit from a leg pocket and squinted at a number of little vials, willing them to stop moving long enough for him to read them.

  That ought to do it... I have to go to work.

  When Rachael returned with the water and two small white pills in the palm of her hand, he leaned against the edge of the bed, rubbing his temples. She handed him the glass of water and the pills.

  He took the water, put the pills in his mouth, and washed them down with the water, before putting the glass down. The simple action was incredibly complicated, and the sound of glass on wood louder than any weapon his civilization ever shot off.

  Rachael ran a hand over his back and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I should have known better.”

  He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, making her smile.

  “I’m pretty sure I’ll live, and when I come home tonight, it’s my turn to pick what to do.”

  I don’t know what it’ll be yet, but you definitely won’t need clothes.

  *****

  Rachael watched her all-too-handsome lover go through her front door.

  First hangover, ouch. He perked up quick though. They probably have some secret remedy they won’t share with earthlings.

  She went back to bed but couldn’t sleep, so she cleaned the kitchen instead.

  “We sure made a mess here last night.”

  Bonbon neither agreed nor disagreed. She sat next to her empty food dish and tapped it with her claws out, making a “tink, tink, tink” sound, clearly stating cats want food too.

  It promised to be another long and dull day.

  Weekend... What would I have done in my old life? Called some friends, gone to the mall, maybe. Now we don’t have cars, or phones. I could take the bus, but if I meet anyone who knows me, well they’ll take one look and see I’m hiding something.

  Her relationship with Peter might not be a well-hidden secret anymore, but the fewer people who knew, the better. She wasn’t up to answering questions.

  “Meow.”

  “What is it? Do you want to go out?”

  The cat sat in the window, and Rachael peeked out too. Peter headed down her drive way.

  “Already? That can’t be good.”

  Bonbon clearly disagreed; she ran for the hall, probably eager to meet him and make him stumble through running around his feet.

  When Rachael opened the door and Peter stopped in the doorway, flashing a smile, she realized she’d forgotten to dress. From the look on his face and glittering eyes, he could see her nipples just fine.

  “I’m... gonna go get a robe.”

  “No...”

  He pulled the door shut and reached for her, tugging her close. The strong arm around her erased all sensible thoughts and questions, and she stuttered, “I... I... You...”

  He nodded without breaking eye contact, making it seem as if she said something profound.

  “You’re right. I left too quickly.”

  How am I supposed to think, or talk, when you’re this close?

  He made it worse through bending even closer, and pausing with his lips an inch or so from hers, murmuring, “I forgot something.”

  She closed half the gap between them, skin tingling from having him so close.

  “What’s that?”

  He didn’t answer; he waited for a second long as a year, brushing his fingers over her neck. Just when she thought he’d finally kiss her, he pulled away, grabbed her nightie, and drew it over her head in a swift movement.

  “This. I wanted to take this off. I was going to wait until tonight, but I think I’ll just take it now.”

  Seriously? This is torture. He knows how much I want him, doesn’t he, Big Meanie.

  He smirked, as if able to read her thoughts.

  “Outside is calmer than I expected, and I could probably stay a little. Unless you want time alone?”

  She wanted to smack him over the chest or something for making her feel so fluste
red, but she gave up. He was better at waiting than she and would win this game every time.

  Pheromones, that’s what it is. Not my fault.

  His grip on her tightened when she kissed him, but he still withdrew much too quickly.

  “What does that mean? Should I stay? I could just leave.”

  Stop teasing me.

  “Yes... stay.”

  *****

  The next morning, Peter woke at the crack of dawn, happy not to be hung-over, but still unwilling to leave the comfort of Rachael’s bed. He had vague memories of a time as a little boy when sleep was a pleasure and not just a necessity, but it hadn’t been anything like these soft pillows and fluffy quilt.

  People on this planet sure knew how to live.

  He slipped out of bed and walked naked through the cool room, wishing he could stay. The uniform smelled a little dusty. It was also covered with spent fur from the cat. The self-cleaning must be worn out, time to change it. One more reason to return to the ship...

  He had avoided it, telling himself he’d go tomorrow, but tomorrow was never right.

  June might be up to no good, and he needed to check things out. It didn’t seem likely she’d take any urge for revenge on him out on the planet, but one could never know for sure.

  Rachael’s bathroom was bright, too bright, and he squinted into the mirror. Besides being professional he had never cared how he looked, but now it was important, and he brushed his hair with his fingers.

  If anyone told me a woman could make such a difference, I would have thought them crazy.

  Resting his hands on the sink, he bent closer to the mirror and stared into his own eyes.

  “You’re an idiot.”

  Hearing the words in his own voice changed nothing, so he stopped talking to himself and returned to the bedroom. Rachael still slept, and he sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand over her arm.

  “Wake up, Beautiful. I need you to lock behind me.”

  They went through the same ceremony every day, but watching her eyes flutter open never got old.

  If you had been one of us, you’d be my One.

  She smiled.

  “Hey, is it morning already?”

  “Yes, and I have to go.”

  “Stay. Come back to bed.”

  Tempting.

  “I wish I could, but the planet won’t conquer itself.”

  She laughed.

  “You don’t really care, do you?”

  I should. I used to.

  “If it’s any comfort, I think of you every waking moment and sometimes when I sleep. But I still have to go.”

  “You’re such a smoothie, and I don’t believe you.”

  Soft...

  “Peter?”

  “What?” How long had he zoned out?

  “It seems like you want to come back to bed, so if you’re going, you should probably go now, or I won’t let you.”

  What is she talking about?

  Reality returned and he found himself cradling one of her perky breasts in his hand, rubbing the nipple with his thumb.

  “Ah, I see what you mean.”

  Pulling the hand back required a brief but intense struggle between mind and body, and he gave the breast a light pat on the side.

  Shit. I can’t help it. It’s in my genes.

  “Go to work if you have to, but hurry back.”

  Sound advice. He sighed and nodded.

  Stepping into the chilly morning helped bring him back to his senses. A thin mist made everything look soft, and he could barely make out the contours of his vehicle parked down the road. When he came closer, a monitor lit up, tuned to his DNA.

  “Good morning, Ground Commander. You have messages.”

  The first was from the night watch, reporting a failed attempt to collect projectile weapons from a group of unruly youth. Besides this and an incident with an old woman shooting one of his men with a crossbow, screaming about zombies, the night appeared to have been calm.

  What the hell is a zombie? I must ask Rachael about this.

  Next, a life-size hologram of June appeared in front of him.

  “Ground Commander, while I understand you’re distracted by playing with the indigenous population, I have a job for you. Return to the ship immediately.”

  Chapter Seven

  Even though Rachael lived in her own happy bubble, she couldn’t help but see the city grow emptier every day.

  Peter’s words about more troops coming in also unnerved her. Had other countries and areas already learned to coexist? Sure, she was aware of violence and anger brewing, but how bad was it really?

  At first she thought people just stayed indoors, but an increasing number of houses held an aura of abandonment. If people were leaving the city, where did they go? Countryside, maybe, but if everyone went there it wouldn’t be deserted anymore.

  More and more stores and businesses had “closed” signs in their windows. Were people giving up on everyday lives?

  Her boss believed keeping open was the right thing to do, but how long would he hang in?

  What would she do with her days if Terry decided to close?

  Even the grocery store was empty. The shelves were filled, but only one register was open, and it was manned by an alien soldier. He had eerie purple eyes that made her want to squirm.

  “I know you.”

  He sounded sure of himself. Of course. They all were.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Yes, I’m sure I know you. Let me see your identi-card.”

  She didn’t want to hand it over, but couldn’t refuse either.

  Could I just leave this stuff here and run?

  The card played hide and seek in her purse.

  “I know it’s in here.”

  What if she forgot it somewhere? Her heart thumped and she spread the contents of the handbag out on the conveyor belt. Wallet, keys, lipstick, old receipts, notebook, pens, hand sanitizer, aspirin, an old candy wrapper...

  It’s not in here. I forgot it somewhere. I can’t believe I lost the stupid card, and now I’m screwed.

  Then, a corner of it appeared, entangled in the lining, and she pretended her hands didn’t shake as she handed it over and put her mess of random objects back where they belonged.

  The soldier stared at the card for a long time. He appeared to scrutinize the photo, lifted his eyes and stared at her face, then looked at the card again.

  Rachael struggled to swallow her heart down from its elevated position at the top of her throat, but it was stuck.

  “Seems to be in order.”

  That’s because it is in order. Can I have it back? Please?

  He held on to the card a moment longer, and when he finally gave it back, she clutched it.

  Even with everything I know, I’m afraid of him. Imagine how scared I’d be if I didn’t know one of them.

  A sobering thought. She wasn’t scared of Peter, because she knew and loved him, but fear of the unknown was clearly still with her.

  To her surprise, the man grabbed a green fabric bag and stuffed her groceries in it. He was clearly unused to handling Earth foods, but made more of an effort than she expected.

  “I think I’m supposed to have a plastic bag. Those cost money.”

  He grunted something that sounded like, “Who cares?”

  Encouraged by the act of kindness, a question spilled out of her mouth. “You don’t charge anyone anything for the food. Why do you bother ringing it up?”

  He didn’t smile, but an expression of surprise flew over his eyes. People probably didn’t interact much.

  “We measure how much residents need of each item, so it will be available.”

  That made sense.

  He handed the bag over and nodded.

  “Give my best to the Ground Commander.”

  Shit, he does know who I am. How?

  “I... I will. Thank you.”

  She fled before the conversation could go any further.

&
nbsp; The bus was empty except for her.

  “You should take me to my house. There’s no one else in here, anyway.”

  The automated vehicle offered no answers, and pulled into every stop on the route whether anyone waited or not. When she stepped off, she muttered, “I miss my car.”

  It waited for better times in the garage, dead and useless. Even if it had been functional there wouldn’t be any gas, but she still missed it.

  Peter leaned against a fence, clearly waiting for her, not even pretending to be doing something else. It scared her a little, especially when he didn’t smile.

  Did he hear about my failure in the store? That was quick.

  He fixed his eyes on her, straightened up, and reached out to take the bag from her hands. They walked in silence to the house, and she swallowed hard.

  I don’t like this. It feels like bad news. I don’t want to lose him. Please don’t take him away from me. If I did something wrong, I’m sorry.

  She wanted to say something, but no words came, and she watched him place the bags on a counter. He propped his shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, and she sought comfort in putting the food away. There was something normal about seeing neat rows of canned mushrooms in the pantry, and full cartons of eggs and milk in the fridge.

  Doing everyday chores helped her find her voice. “So, what’s up?”

  “I have to go away for a few days.”

  Her heart stopped beating for a second. She was sure it did. She held a box of flour and put it on the counter before her fingers could drop their grip and spill white powder all over the floor.

  In a man’s world, a few days could mean anything. In an alien’s world, he might be heading for another planet. Maybe she’d never see him again.

  At least he cared enough to come over and tell her.

  “When? Go where?”

  Seeing things from the bright side, he was grim due to something that happened, not because of something she did.

  She swallowed hard, stepped up to him, and put her hands on his arm. Peter sighed and brushed a lock of hair away from her face. The gesture was comforting, but she still struggled not to cry.

  “I’m leaving now. I want you to be very careful while I’m gone.”

  She nodded obediently, automatically, and again when he admonished, “Keep the blinds shut so people can’t see you, and don’t open the door.”