by T M Roy
She wrinkled her small nose. At his suggestion of dyeing her fur this morning, she looked as thrilled as she did about the shower the night before.
“There’s no choice for it, Povre. We can’t be hiding every second of the day. I have some stuff that’s made out of a plant called henna, and if it makes the right color, we won’t have to use this chemical coloring. Let’s test it, at least. None of it’s permanent. The henna will wear off, and a few good showers will wash this other stuff out.”
“Oh, Kent,” she wailed, sinking to the bed, her slim, long arms hugging her torso. “No more water,” she pleaded.
“We’ll sponge it on. We just need to test some small spots to see if it’s going to work at all, first. This other stuff goes on dry. We’ll just have to dye the spots people are going to see.” He dug through his bags, showing her what else he’d bought. “I got you some talcum powder and brushes, too.”
She watched him for a moment, as if hoping for a last minute stay of execution. But Kent didn’t offer any alternatives.
“I’m sorry.”
She sighed. “What do you want me to do?”
* * * * *
TWO HOURS LATER, KENT stared at his creation. Where he’d applied the hair coloring, her short, smooth fur was a rich café au lait, with just the right touch of olive, for Povre to pass easily as one of Eurasian, Indian, or Middle Eastern descent.
Only the size and extreme tilt of her eyes and the thick, unusual length of her black lashes tipped the scales far into the exotic range, but the sunglasses he’d bought would help disguise that. Once she donned the baggy clothes preferred by Eugene’s twenty-five and under crowd, and among the students on campus, she wouldn’t raise an eyebrow…unless she happened to run around partially clothed the way she was now. She wore only a towel, one of Kent’s, so the staining process wouldn’t ruin any clothing.
Even though Povre had tried to distract them both by making Kent tell the story of Lynn and his breakup, they both had a hard time not getting aroused. The intimate brushing and touching was almost more than either could stand. Keeping himself focused on applying color and the subject of conversation just wasn’t enough. The tight ache in his crotch had yet to subside. But at long last, he finished, and he studied the results with critical assessment. The henna, unfortunately, wouldn’t take, so after a short test to make sure it wouldn’t burn her, Kent had to resort to the chemical product. He tried to rationalize it was faster anyway. Plus, if he found some jumper cables and something to ground himself and her on, he could wash it out of her with a few good scrubbings.
“I think that’ll do.”
The tint covered her lower legs, arms from just above the elbow, neck, shoulders, and face. He thought that would be enough, since she wouldn’t be running around in public uncovered.
But Povre took one look at herself that way and after a long moment of tight-fisted silence, and obvious struggle to keep herself from the Sirgel version of bursting into tears, let out a soft wail. “I look…” She struggled for the right word. “Ridiculous! I feel embarrass…embarrassed.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, Kent! What if this doesn’t remove?”
He had to agree, although silently, she looked like a badly dipped Easter egg. The chemicals had already given her body fur a harsh, brittle feel. The underlying skin in the treated areas was threatened with dryness. Applying the colorant over the rest of her wasn’t an option.
“It will,” he said with more confidence than he felt.
Povre’s expression of misery didn’t abate with his words. If anything, it increased. The shuddering breath she took made Kent’s heart ache.
Since he couldn’t find more words at the moment, he concentrated on emoting his feelings and appealing as he did the night before to her empathic ability. Kent felt the comforting ambiance he tried to project become something more powerful. He wanted to take her and kiss her and make love to her until the forlorn, lost look became her killer smile. He wanted it to be candlelight and satin sheets. Uninterrupted, by anything, especially the threat they faced now. No matter what she heard, they both knew the hunt was far from over.
His effort had some effect. The dullness that had come to her eyes receded a bit, her deep despair modulated into petulance.
“You look stunning,” tried Kent. It was the truth. He was glad he’d bought the sunglasses, because even if she looked completely human, Povre’s exotic beauty would attract the attention he was trying to avoid.
“I should stun you,” she mumbled. Had Kent insisted he shave her bald from head to toe Povre couldn’t have presented a more wounded and embarrassed picture.
“And unless someone gets very, very, close,” he continued, closing his fingers around her left arm and pulling her between his knees, “they’re not going to see this flawless complexion of yours is anything but human skin.” He caressed her cheek.
“How close?” asked Povre with a pout Ken found irresistible and enchanting.
He put his hands on her slender shoulders, making her lean forward and down until their foreheads touched. “This close,” he whispered, lost in the violet depths of her eyes.
Her arms encircled his neck. “I really look…okay?”
He kissed her, deliberately keeping it light. “Even if you were green with pink polka-dots you’d look beautiful.” His shaking hand reached for a T-shirt. A half-naked Povre in such close proximity, so close to check out time…damn it!
“Thank you for doing this,” she said after a minute. “I know it must be inconvenient. I don’t know what I would do without your help, Kent.”
“Seeing you safe will be all the thanks I need.” With Povre safely dressed—although not even the huge T-shirt, cutoff sweats, and flannel shirt on top of all that made her look any less sexy—Kent made her sit on his knee and reached for a few more items to touch up the disguise. He was glad he’d thought of them, more than glad of his artistic talent. And as much as it galled him to admit it, he used to love to watch Lynn apply her cosmetics, and he listened to every word she’d say about theatrical makeup.
So Povre’s naturally pale lavender-tinted lips became a pale coral. Some still blue areas close around her eyes blended in with just the right touch of a coffee-shade eye pencil.
“It’s checkout time. And show time. We’ll hang out on campus today, at least for a bit until I get more idea of what to do next. And to give your people a chance to track you. You said they could do that?”
She nodded. “The sensors on the Gr’mmil are very powerful. As long as I am not shielded by too much material, or moving around in too large of an area, they can pick out my bio-patterns and map a location.”
“But they can’t just beam you up can they? I guess they would’ve done it a long time ago if they could.”
“Beam me up?”
“Matter molecular transport?” Kent suggested.
Povre looked surprised. “That’s dangerous! Too dangerous for complex solid compounds, much less living creatures. Always something comes out changed.” Her eyes widened. “Humans have that technology? To transport living beings unharmed in an energy stream? And an energy source small enough to let it go undetected all this time?”
Kent shook his head. “No, we don’t. I’m sure people are working on it, but so far it only works in fiction. Movies and stuff. A dream, like…well, faster than light travel.”
She laughed. “Now that is possible. If not for that…I wouldn’t be here.”
“Don’t get into it, honey. I’m a naturalist. Biology, botany, and zoology I can handle. Ask me about geography and weather. But engineering and most that goes with it is Greek to me.”
“I am not an engineer, although the basic principle of faster than light travel is understood by most children. But I can’t tell you,” Povre said sadly. “That is forbidden. I can cooperate by not resisting…but I can’t divulge certain information.”
Kent grimaced. “Like I want to know those things. The people chasing us would throw me into whatever
pit they use and throw away the key. I’d never see daylight again.” He stopped and closed his eyes in pain. Smooth move, Xavier. Just what she needs to hear.
“Then I’ll have some company, for a little while at least,” she answered in a small voice.
“That is not going to happen.” Holding her pointed chin in his right hand, he angled her face a bit and used the pinkie finger of his left hand to smooth the eye shadow. “There.”
He stood up and started replacing things in his pack. “But don’t tell me anything secret. I just wish there was some signal we could send. By the way, exactly what is your field of study? Why did you come to Earth? Now we can talk…and Povre,” Kent interrupted himself to congratulate her, “you’re talking like a champion.”
She smiled and inclined her head a little, but glanced away for a moment.
“Anyway, now can you tell me that?” He slung his pack over his shoulder.
She frowned and he guessed she was going through her inventory of English terms. He was getting used to the intervals between their conversations, used to them enough that he could tell whether she hesitated on purpose, or was merely translating what he said, and then retranslating her answer.
“We came to bring a new team of Folonar to live here. Every several decades they bring new personnel. So the gene pool stays…current…with their Homesystem. Also to pick up the accumulated information for the period.”
“There are aliens living here? On Earth?”
Povre nodded. “Yes. The Folonar have been traveling through space for nearly eight millennia. When they came across a planet with life forms so close to their own, they were curious to see how civilization would develop.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“On this planet? As one Folonar xenohistorian put it—they have been watching since your people came out of caves.” She wrinkled her nose. “Did your people really come out of caves?”
“That’s just an expression, but until they learned how to build houses, yes, I guess that’s true. There’s evidence our early ancestors sheltered in caves. But jeez, for the most part we’ve been out of caves for…well, for thousands and thousands of years!”
“Kent, all I know for sure is they spent a long time watching before ever sending a permanent team to your planet. And that team’s descendants have spent over three thousand orbital revolutions of this planet around the primary star living here.”
He whistled. “And they still live here?”
Her answer came after the expected delay. “Live, die, work side by side, abide by your laws, follow your traditions, worship in your religions with your people in most every society. Completely integrated as humans. They use their…what you would call psychic abilities…just enough to smooth any of the very tiny metabolic or chemical differences, and of course to communicate with each other. They don’t interfere with your history and culture. They just record it.”
“Are they disguised or something?”
“No, Kent. They look exactly like humans, even to the variants existing naturally—skin color, shape of eyes, bone structure. There are no outward differences at all, and very minute internal ones. As a matter of fact, the only way I, or anyone else coming from the Affiliated Races, would be able to tell the difference at all without a complicated physical scan would be for the Folonar to initiate a psi-contact. The diversity and strength of other psychic ability vary, but all Folonar can mindspeak.”
“So when they made this discovery, they collected some of each genotype and came back…and infiltrated? So to speak?”
“Yes.”
“And how has it unfolded?” Kent inquired, intrigued. “Human history?”
A billion questions burned in his mind. To see the complete, carefully recorded version of humanity from an outsider’s perspective. The endless debates over vague historical, religious, linguistic, cultural facts resolved…Lord! The truth might be too hard to take if different from the accepted modern versions!
She did not directly answer his question. “I have never studied human history.”
“But you have to have heard something, being part of an expedition coming here and all…”
“Kent, no offense intended,” she said. “But in scientific circles it’s generally accepted your species as a whole isn’t open-minded enough, or your society mature enough, to accept certain things. That is why we—the Affiliated Races in general—do not offer a contact and avoid being seen when we are here.”
“What about other visitors? Those not from your group? The UFO stuff? Area 51?”
“I can’t say we’ve verified if any other star-traveling folk follow the same careful codes of non-interference we do. Or even if others visit. But something had to serve as a source for the attitudes displayed through your media and communications networks. We don’t know if it is imagination, something fictional…or real.”
“Neither do we,” admitted Kent. “We have all sorts of agencies that investigate paranormal—UFOs, aliens, stuff like that.” He let out a long sigh. “No one has yet presented absolute hard core evidence and proclaimed it to the world. But one thing is for sure—someone is after you.”
Before his next thought emerged as words, Povre again spoke. “You would have to ask a Folonar, Kent. Their historical and anthropological studies of your planet are not something the rest of us take a focused interest in.” She shrugged a bit. “Perhaps if your planet is properly contacted and joins the Affiliated Races, this will change. I know when that day comes, the Folonar will share everything. But who knows when that might be?”
Kent gave her a half-smile. She’d voiced every one of his concerns or questions almost as fast as he thought of them himself. “Are you sure you’re not telepathic?”
“Very sure. But we are in very close proximity.”
“And great minds think alike.” Kent made sure they were a bit closer. “And what is it you do?”
“I am a xenobiologist. The periodic journeys made to your planet are too long to waste simply on dropping off Folonar and picking up information. So science teams are sent along with these ships. We spend short times on various locations on the surface, collecting soil, rock, plant samples, collecting seeds and cuttings we know already can be adapted to use elsewhere, studying alien life forms—plant, insect, animals…humans.” The sparkle brightened in her eyes and Kent smiled in response.
“Although humans were not part of what I was assigned.”
“Now,” said Kent, holding the door open for her, “the bit about the Folonar, the gene pool, and them living here is something I want to hear more about…if you can tell me. But it’ll have to wait until later.”
He wondered at the openly belligerent attitude of the desk clerk when he checked out. Shrugging, Kent went to his rental van, which he intended to return, and get back on his trusty BMW to get them to the campus.
* * * * *
JENNSLE SHIVERED AND FLATTENED her ears at the squeaking sounds of protest H’renzek’s strong hands wrung from the material that covered the back of her seat. “Twenty sections away from the landing site? Twenty sections from where you picked up the signals from her equipment three lengths below the surface? And in the middle of a large city? How?”
“I don’t know,” said Jenn. “I do know she’s there.”
The stumpy Lazorta technician assisting them opened his enormous maw. “The scanners are sensitive, Commander H’renzek.” The thunderous rumble that was Lazorta speech raised enough of a breeze to temporarily straighten Jennsle’s slightly wavy hair. “But, they have not brains, eyes, and mouths to tell us that. All these,” a massive paw waved at the readouts and Jennsle ducked in an automatic reflex, “display is Sirgel life signs. Moving, but pretty much in the designated area.”
“Twenty sections!” H’renzek studied the three dimensional holographic topographical projection of the area. “Across the mountain range. She must have been taken there by a native.”
In a very small voice, Jenn spoke
what they feared most. “Maybe she’s been caught already…”
* * * * *
AS IT TURNED OUT, KENT was right. No one gave Povre more than a passing glance. She stuck to his side like a shadow as he crossed the university grounds toward his building. She wished a cold rain wasn’t falling, she wanted to look around. But she kept her head down, letting the rain slide from the hat Kent produced and drip safely clear of her face. No more direct contact with water. One experience like that was enough.
Once inside the building she gave in to her curiosity and slipped the lenses from her face. Apparently buildings were pretty much the same as any others, on any other world or habitat. This one appeared old, tired. She stepped onto a creaky elevator with him. So much could be improved. They had the technology. She knew that. Why wasn’t it used everywhere? Where she came from, the places of education would be the first to be awarded attention for improvement.
Her queries, though, would have to wait, since several young humans raced to jump on the elevator with them.
They’re like young adults anywhere I’ve been, thought Povre with a wistful smile. Eager, bright-eyed, chattering. Two lighter-skinned than Kent, one girl a dark, dark brown, another boy a golden tan with dark eyes smaller and less slanted than hers. All four in a lively discussion about some genetic theory involving plant viruses that left colored spots and streaks in the leaves.
Tempted to join the discussion, she bit back on several curious questions. One of the young men met her gaze and gave her a friendly smile.
“A new research assistant, Dr. Xavier?”
“A friend visiting from overseas,” returned Kent, and Povre heard the grin in his voice. “Far overseas,” he muttered so softly only she heard.
The doors opened and the youngsters broke from the elevator in a pack, immediately falling back to their discussion. Kent took her arm and guided her along the hall.
“Bright kids,” Kent said.
“Yes,” said Povre.
“What’s wrong?”