EarthBound

by D M Arnold

  “Fine -- no morning sickness, yet. Mom, you don't have to give me the concerned look.” She patted her stomach. “He hasn't been giving me trouble.”

  “There you go again,” Yasuko replied. “How are you so sure it's a he? You're not far enough along for tests.”

  “Call it a ... premonition,” she replied, “a feeling -- the same sort of feeling that's telling me keeping this baby is the right thing to do.” Yasuko shook her head. “Now, it's the you-don't-know-what-you're-getting-into look.”

  “You don't,” Yasuko shot back. “You have no idea what it's like to bear and raise a child. It's much harder than you imagine.”

  “I suppose you were so much better prepared when you had me.”

  “In fact, I was.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, for starters, your father and I had been married for five years. He had a career and we had medical insurance. Granted, things were different, then -- but we had no financial worries. And, we wanted a baby.”

  “You think I don't want this baby?”

  “You might say you do. I worry, though -- you might feel ... differently about a child conceived in a rape than for one you planned for.” Suki shot a look at Nyk and brushed tears from her cheeks. “I'm sorry -- but I don't know why you feel you must go through with this.” Yasuko sat beside Suki and looked into her face. “What if there are complications? What if the baby's early, or if you or ... he ... or both of you need extraordinary care? Those bills can mount up to the tune of six or seven figures. Your father and I will help, but that's beyond what we can do -- or should do. We have our own futures to consider, after all.” She took Suki's hand. “The smart thing for you to do would be to terminate this pregnancy. You're still young. Develop your career, and start your family when it's appropriate. This is all happening so fast. I'm thinking of your future, Sukiko -- and of that poor, innocent child.”

  “I'm keeping this baby. I've made up my mind, and it's what I plan to do. Now, I'm going to get dressed.” Suki arose from the table and stalked up the stairs.

  “I'm afraid I've upset her,” Yasuko said. She looked at Nyk. “Do you disagree with any of what I said?”

  Nyk shook his head. “No, it makes perfect sense. Perhaps Suki finds herself in a situation that makes no sense. She's capable of making her own decisions, Yasuko. I think it's sweet how you worry for her, but don't you think the energy you expend worrying would be better applied toward some more productive activity?”

  She looked into Nyk's eyes. “Sukiko is my child, and she forever shall be. This is something no one comprehends until they have a child of their own. As her mother, I will worry for her. I might not act on my concerns as when she was a minor, but my worry is my right, as a parent, and my duty.”

  “I'm sorry, Yasuko. Please accept my apologies. I had no intention of offending you.”

  “You haven't offended me, Nick. You're young. I'd have said the same thing at your age. If you indeed carry out what you say you'll do, and the two of you raise that child... Then, you'll understand.”

  Nyk headed up the stairs. Suki stepped from the bedroom in briefs and a tee shirt. He opened his arms and embraced her. “It pains me to see you argue with your mother.”

  “That was nothing. Wait 'til you see me argue with my father.”

  “She loves you.” Nyk held her and stroked her hair. “I can feel how much she loves you.”

  “What if she's right? What if there are complications?”

  “Don't forget those Floran diamonds.” He kissed the top of her head. “Everything will work out all right. The fact we're having this conversation means everything will be all right. This is the path Destiny intends we follow. Of that I'm sure.”

  She slipped into a denim jumper and picked up her bag. Nyk held her hand and descended the stairs to the front door. “I'll see you tonight,” she said as she put on a pair of canvas shoes. He kissed her and she headed out the door.

  The telephone rang and Yasuko picked it up. She looked toward Nyk. “It's for you.”

  “For me?” Nyk took the handset. “Hello?”

  “Nykkyo, I'd like you to rendezvous with the 327 again, next Thursday. There's another box that needs to be taken to Brooklyn.”

  “What's going on, Zander?”

  “Just a little quid-pro-quo -- a harmless exchange. Nothing the Agency hasn't been doing for hundreds of years.”

  Nyk looked up and saw Yasuko straightening the furniture in the living room. “You're buying something -- what?”

  “We have a special project here, Nyk. We're evaluating some Earth communications equipment -- to improve our uplinks -- so our Agents can perform better in the field.”

  Nyk regarded the scars on his left wrist. “I don't know, Zander...”

  “Don't you trust me?”

  “It's that ... it's not convenient for me to make these ... trips. I must fly to Milwaukee and back. Each one kills two whole days.”

  “Maybe we can do something about that, long-term. This is the last of these deliveries for a while.”

  “All right, I'll do it.”

  * * *

  Nyk paid the cabby and trudged up the steps to the house in Queens. He rang the bell and Yasuko opened the door. “Another long night?”

  He climbed the stairs to the apartment, set the pasteboard box on the table and looked at it. He picked it up, turned it over, pried loose the polymer tape sealing it and slipped off the lid. Inside were row after row of sparkling, finished gems. He counted two hundred of them.

  He removed one of the stones, slipped it into his pocket and descended the stairs. “Yasuko, what's the best way to get to Tribeca?”

  “You can take the subway.” She produced a map and showed him the route.

  “I'll be home for dinner,” he said, walked out the door and rode a bus to the subway station.

  Nyk climbed the steps at the Canal Street station, walked ten blocks to the FloranCo offices, ascended the stairs and opened the door. “Hi, Jaquie.”

  “Mr Kane! What a surprise seeing you!”

  “Is Seymor in?”

  “Just a moment.” She picked up the phone. “Sir? Mr Kane to see you. Go right on in, Mr Kane.”

  Nyk walked into the office and shut the door. Seymor gaped at him. “Nykkyo! What in hell are you doing here?”

  “I found my own way offworld.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “About a month.”

  “How did you -- never mind, I don't want to know. You have done it now! If the oversight committee finds out you've smuggled yourself here ... You'll be lucky ever to have transit privileges again.”

  “Seymor, I'd like your opinion of something.” He reached into his pocket and handed over the stone.

  Seymor examined it with a lens. “Interesting.”

  “Is it one of ours?”

  “Could be... The cut's decidedly inferior. Quite ... pedestrian, I'd say.” He beckoned Nyk to look through the lens. “See? It's lopsided and the girdle's uneven. It's a shame to ruin such a stone with a poor cut. The size, color and clarity's good enough to be a Floran diamond. How did you come by this?”

  “That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I was handed a box of these on ExoScout 327. There are a couple hundred of that stone's brethren in the box.”

  “When were you onboard an Exo cruiser?”

  “I arrived on Earth three weeks ago, courtesy of Exo 327, carrying a similar box. My transit was arranged by Zander Baxa.”

  “Baxa!” Seymor stood and looked out the window at the New York skyline. “Go on, lad.”

  “Zander had me take the box to an address in Brooklyn where I exchanged it for a briefcase. The case was full of cash, in my estimation nearly a quarter million dollars. I hand carried the cash to Oklahoma City and delivered it to persons unknown. Then, a few days later, I was asked to carry a number of heavy crates to the ExoScout. I just returned from another rendezvous with the 327.”

  “How many
crates?” Seymor asked.

  “Two dozen.”

  “That's ten grand per crate.” Seymor chuckled. “You might be a mule, lad, but you're no jackass. Do you have any idea what's in the boxes?”

  “No. They're heavy -- I'd guess between fifty and seventy-five kilograms each. They hefted like machine parts, but I can't imagine what Earth machinery is of use on Floran.”

  “Sit down Nyk. Have you heard the rumors about Baxa?”

  He shook his head. “No. What rumors?”

  “That he's on the take. Did you ask him about any of this?”

  “Yes, and he told me the Service is purchasing Earth comm gear for some special Agency project, and that it's all on the level.”

  “Level my ass! All such legitimate acquisitions go through this office.” Seymor resumed his seat, picked up a pencil and drummed it against the desk. “Lad, this is our first hard evidence Baxa's involved in something. Zander must think you're as crooked as he, or that you're dim, naive or both.”

  “I think he thinks the latter. It's what most people think of me.”

  “Not I, lad. Not I.” Seymor reached into his pocket and withdrew a key ring. He unlocked and opened a filing cabinet and retrieved a Floran photoimaging camera.

  “Nyk, I'd like you to document this courier business from end to end. Don't let Zander think you're on to him. If he asks you to do something, go ahead and do it. If this follows the pattern, there'll be money to deliver and goods to ship. Photoimage it all.

  “Then hightail it back to the homeworld. Transmit the images to me, keep a low profile and wait for instructions.”

  “Seymor, I went to considerable trouble to get here. Why would I want to go to Floran?”

  “We'll need you there, lad. The investigators surely will want to debrief you. If Zander is breaking Earth laws -- I'd hate to have you fall into the hands of local authorities.”

  “I'll do this under one condition. You must assure me you'll authorize my return to Earth when this blows over.”

  “What is such a draw here?” Seymor regarded him. “Forget I asked -- I'm better off not knowing.”

  “I mean it, Seymor. Guarantee my return or I refuse to help.”

  “...Fair enough, you have my assurances.”

  Nyk picked up the photoimager and pocketed the diamond. Seymor returned his two-finger Floran salute and he headed back to the apartment in Queens via the subway. He replaced the stone, photographed the gems and resealed the box.

  13 -- Return to the Homeworld

  Nyk stood outside the address in Brooklyn. He took a photoimage of the building and of the door to the office. He walked in and announced himself. The receptionist buzzed him into the back office. His contact handed him a briefcase in exchange for the pasteboard box.

  He headed out of the office and toward the stairs to the street. Footsteps were approaching him from behind. Nyk looked down at the briefcase and realized he held an Earth fortune. The footfalls accelerated as he sped his descent. A knot formed in his stomach. He reached the street level and put his hand on the door, prepared to make a run for it. “Mr Kane!” he heard a woman's voice, out of breath. “Wait, Mr Kane!”

  He stopped and turned. The receptionist was half walking, half sprinting toward him. “You left this on the counter, Mr Kane,” she panted and handed him the photoimager.

  “Gee, thanks.” He headed for the subway station.

  Nyk climbed the steps to the house in Queens. He carried the briefcase to the apartment and placed a vidphone call. “Zander, when I agreed to deliver the box, I had no idea I'd need to make another run to Oklahoma City.”

  “I'm sorry, Nykkyo, didn't I mention it? Is there some reason you can't do this? Do you have better things to do?”

  “No, Zander -- I'll do it.” Nyk switched off the laptop computer. He twiddled the combination on the briefcase until it opened, took photoimages of the cash inside, closed the case and headed down the stairs. Suki's father was pacing in the living room. The front door opened. Suki walked in and slipped off her shoes. Nyk took her hand and headed toward the stairs to the apartment.

  Yasuko poked her head from the kitchen. “Dinner's ready,” she said.

  “I want to change my clothes first,” Suki replied.

  “Change them after dinner. Your father is getting restless.”

  Nyk knelt at the low table in the dining room. He glanced up at Suki's father. “Nick, would you like some sake?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Are you sure? It's a good one -- imported from Japan.”

  “Nick doesn't drink alcohol,” Suki said. Nyk picked up the chopsticks and fumbled with them. Suki positioned them in his hand.

  “Sake, Sukiko?” her father asked. “Oh, you can't -- I forgot ... Yasuko?”

  “Half a bowl,” her mother said.

  Nyk took a chunk of chicken and placed it in a small bowl of sauce. He picked it from the bowl but it slipped from his chopsticks and fell back in, splattering sauce on his shirt. “I'm so clumsy.”

  “Can I get you a fork?” Yasuko asked.

  “No, thanks. I'm determined to master these.”

  Suki wiped the sauce from his clothes with her napkin. “No harm done -- it'll wash out.”

  George sipped from a bowl. “Sukiko, have you done any more to find a real job?”

  “Daddy, I'm happy with what I'm doing.”

  “For what you're making, you'd be better off somewhere flipping burgers,” George replied. “At least you'd have some benefits.”

  “I'm using my degree. I worked hard for it and I want to use it.”

  “A hell of a lot of good that thing is,” George continued. “Do you know what those initials stand for? 'Piled hip deep,' that's what. You should treat it for what it is -- a sunk cost.”

  “Does everything have a bottom line to you?” Suki asked. “Is Wall Street the only place someone can make a living? There are plenty of opportunities for someone with my credentials.”

  “I've seen those opportunities. I walk past park-bench professors daily on my way to and from my office.” George lifted a porcelain kettle from a chafing stand and poured some clear fluid into a small bowl.

  “Daddy, don't you think you've had enough sake already?” Her father's eyes narrowed. He lifted the bowl in a mock salute, drained and refilled it.

  “Your father and I are concerned for your ability to support the child,” Yasuko added. “You might not live upstairs forever.”

  Suki flashed a look at Nyk. “Are you threatening to throw us out?” she asked.

  “Would you like me to pay rent,” Nyk asked, “room and board?”

  “No, no, Nick,” Yasuko replied. “I didn't mean it that way.” She reached across the table and took Suki's hand. “We're just concerned...” She looked at her daughter. “Whether or not you use your degree, wouldn't you rather have a secure job?”

  “What's secure these days?” She stirred the contents of her bowl with her chopsticks. “At least I have a degree.”

  George glowered at her. “Is that a remark directed toward me, your mother or both of us? I think you owe us an apology.” Suki picked up her tea bowl, swirled it and took a sip. “Apologize, dammit!”

  She looked down. “I'm sorry.”

  “While you're there, you should sign up for some business courses at that university -- start a real career where you can make some real money.” George emptied his bowl of sake.

  “Like I said,” Suki replied, “I'm happy with what I'm doing. Besides, who would hire someone who's three months pregnant?”

  “Don't get me started on that topic, young lady.” George eyed Nyk. “Yasuko tells me she suspects you've been encouraging this lunatic line of thinking.”

  “Suki is an adult with her own free will. If this is what she wants to do, I will support her and give her encouragement -- and love.”

  “What about your so-called career?” George asked. “Will NYU hold your position for you while you're on maternity leave?”r />
  “It'll probably be open for me,” she replied. “They can't give me any guarantees.”

  George poured another bowl. “No guarantees...” He shook his head. “You're nuts,” he said and looked at Nyk. “You're both nuts.” He sipped from the bowl. “I'll say this about your ... degree. I wouldn't trade where you are today with that piece of paper for where I was at your age without it. The three years you spent on it were a waste, if this is all you can show for it.”

  “Daddy, the reason I haven't been able to use my degree is because of the time I spent married to that idiot son of your idiot business associate. That was the waste -- not graduate school.”

  “That does it!” George shouted. “Leave the table.” Suki picked up a piece of chicken, popped it into her mouth and stared at her father as she chewed. George stood and pointed toward the kitchen. “I said, leave the table!”

  Suki stood. “With pleasure.” She sprinted up the stairs to the apartment.

  “If you'll excuse me,” Nyk said and picked up his and Suki's bowls. He carried them to the kitchen, set them on the counter and headed up the stairs.

  Suki knelt on the sofa in the apartment, her arms draped across the back. Tears streamed down her face. Nyk sat beside her. “I'm sorry you had to witness that,” she said. “I'm twenty-seven and he treats me like I'm fifteen. Do you see why I can't handle this alone? I can't believe you want to stick around me and them.”

  “I had similar exchanges with my father,” Nyk replied. “If you can't argue with your own family, whom can you argue with?”

  “I'm not proud of how I handled myself tonight -- I let him goad me. I hope you realize the sort of family you're getting yourself mixed up with.”

  “It's a family that's done all right.”

  She looked at him and giggled. “I keep forgetting.” He slipped his arm around her. “Oh, Nykkyo -- when you're with me the pain goes away.”

  A knock came on the apartment door. “It's unlocked,” Nyk yelled.