Exile's Return

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Exile's Return Page 6

by Rebecca Mickley


  “Our vaunted Chancellor says that our Mendian Alliance is of sufficient importance to disregard the morale and the safety of our men. I wonder how the military feels about that. Now, our men aren’t cowards, they will gladly lay their lives down on the line for Earth, but subverting the natural order of our military by letting this... thing serve is a slap in the face to everyone wearing a uniform. I say, Earth First, send the Mendians a proper ambassador, and send the bunny back to whatever hole they pulled her out of.” That said, they cut back to the anchor.

  "Strong words tonight, but lets see what you, the viewers think.” I turned it down and looked briefly away from the screen.

  It was a train wreck. It went on and on: people screaming anti-morphic slurs, images of mounting protests at continental capitals, people with angry picket signs shouting “Earth First! Earth First!” The story was out, and it had set the world on fire. Lost in the horror, I continued to watch. They already had my service record. Oh god, they talked about that one time in the bar in Calcutta. Up until I shifted I had still had the tattoo from that night. I buried my head in shame. My past being exposed, my face all over the news. I had gone from being a relatively happy nobody to a very unhappy somebody.

  The door chimed. I swallowed hard, wondering if you could be thrown in the brig for having a bad interview. I shakily tapped the button on my wrist device, and Charlie bolted through the door.

  "Quite a mess little lady. What have you gotten yourself into?" he asked in a caring, almost fatherly tone.

  "Well a few days ago, someone took me off my rock and threw me into this meat grinder..." I responded deadpan, and feeling completely serious.

  He laughed. "Yeah, about that, I am really sorry, especially now. Man, Space News is getting them all whipped up. By the way, I was sent by the Admiral; he wants you in the briefing room in five minutes."

  Chapter 9

  A security detail arrived at my door, and in the center of armed very serious looking humans we made our way to the briefing room quickly and without incident. The Admiral was chewing what smelled like antacids to my sensitive twitching nose as I hopped in.

  "Snow this isn’t going to be easy for you, but you are going to have to make a statement." The Admiral was looking thirty years older from stress.

  "Are you nuts?" I blurted, completely forgetting rank and protocol.

  "I'd remind you of your rank, Captain but I fully understand your reaction, and to answer your question, I suspect we’re all a little bit nuts right now. Still, what just happened in the corridor was a legitimate Charlie Foxtrot, and we need you to give them something else to talk about. Don’t worry about the reporter, Caroline will be the only one there, and she can't ask any questions. I promise. If she does we will stun her and throw her out the airlock. Right now, nothing would make me happier." I started to chuckle inwardly, but then I noticed that he looked completely serious.

  The Admiral gave me a disarming smile, and I swallowed hard, thinking of what was coming next. "What do I say? I don't have anything written."

  "We already have a prepared statement. Stick to these points but make it your own. I know this isn't the best time for you to make your public speaking debut, but we have to find some way to change the focus of this thing." He turned away and put a hand to his temples. The stress in the room was palpable. The only way to diffuse this was for me to go on air.

  “So what’s next? How much time do I have?” I asked and tried not to show my own stress, which at the moment was considerable.

  “We have to move fast, you only have fifteen minutes to prepare,” the Admiral said, motioning to my left as he held out his hand. “Your audience awaits, Captain.”

  I entered the ad-hoc press room, wishing I could still sweat. In the back of my mind, the doctor’s orders to take it easy flashed through my mind as I felt Charlie lift me up on the box that allowed me to rise above the podium. Looking down, I could see the speech on the teleprompter screen inlaid into the podium with one solitary, isolated chair in front of me. Two security officers stood silently like golems on either side of the door, ready to do their duty.

  Fifteen minutes passed quicker than I would have liked. Right on time Caroline Alvarez and her cameraman arrived escorted to the entrance by the young security officer who had rescued me earlier. He looked up and saw me close to shaking on the podium, gave me a thumbs-up and proceeded back out the door. As she moved forward toward her seat I heard her heels clanking on the steel below, driving into my brain her cat-like movements. I looked up into her eyes and saw a predator smiling back at me, ready to pounce. Charlie stood in the back and I choose to look at him instead. The cameraman gave a wave as the bright lights went on, and it was time to make my statement.

  I froze, staring forward blankly like a deer caught in headlights. Charlie quietly moved around the edge of the room and whispered, “Snow, you're on, you're on.” I snapped back to reality, almost stammered, but held it back, only stumbling on the first word. "Ga- ga-good evening. I am Snow Dawkins, formerly Lieutenant Dawkins, of the USS Danube. Eight years ago I was part of the first contact team that led to the Treaty of Gates with the Mendians. This historic treaty opened up dialogue with a powerful ally and allowed us to explore our universe in ways never dreamed possible. It was through the gifts of our Mendian friends that the first extra-solar colonies were founded and many technologies beneficial to humanity were brought to reality.” I took a deep breath, tried desperately not to focus on the butterflies thrashing in my stomach, and continued.

  “Recently our Mendian allies have made a special request of the United Earth Alliance, again asking me to join them for negotiations. I am deeply honored to have been chosen to represent Earth at this time, as I feel it is a path to greater cooperation between our two peoples. Tonight, I tell you that my commitment to Earth is strong, and I stand with the UEA chancellor’s decision to honor the request of such an important ally, that has been so integral to the prosperity and expansion of the human race. I am currently involved in intense preparation in order to best represent Earth and am excited about the opportunity to serve my world once again. Thank you, and may Earth continue to prosper.”

  I began to swoon and the box moved, Charlie dashed up behind me and managed to get there and kept me from falling. I looked up at him and whispered meekly, “I don't think I feel too good.” Dimly I felt him lift me and carry me out of the room.

  By the time we got to med bay I was beginning to feel slightly more oriented as Charlie laid me down on an open bed. I blinked my eyes a few times against the suddenly too bright lights. My mind felt thick, and my heart was racing.

  "That was quite a speech and a nice dive on the ending. I’d give it a seven total," Charlie said, not sparing an inch of his rapier wit.

  "Stuff it, Charlie." I dipped my muzzle and put my paws atop my head. "Doc, please tell me you have something for my head. It’s pounding."

  "We have some ibuprofen; I know to avoid aspirin,” he said, and I looked up at him surprised.

  "That will work. Thanks Doc; it’s a pity nanites don’t work on stress headaches." I reeled a bit but caught myself before I could topple over.

  "I can agree with that,” the doctor said, handing me the Ibuprofen, “We have a special stock of it, dosed for your body size.”

  “You guys really did plan for everything. You even knew aspirin was toxic to my species type. Thanks for caring Doc.” I took the pill, swallowed it and wished it were more instant in its effects.

  My mind was clearing and it felt good, until I realized I may have swooned on live television. I looked up at Charlie nervously and asked, “Did that go out live?”

  "No, it wasn’t live at all. We edited the tape and gave it back to the reporter before she was allowed to leave the room. She wasn't happy, but the Admiral reminded her of her place. Don't worry, it’s handled," Charlie said, nodding. I was instantly grateful.

  "That's good, I was so nervous up there, and right now all I want to do is
go back to my quarters. Doc, am I cleared to go?” I hopped off the bed looking up at the doctor.

  "Well I have no objections,” the doctor said helpfully. "You just got overstimulated and had a mild anxiety attack. I'm sure it's somewhat common in hares. I must caution you though: I am not a morphic doctor. Still, you should be fine, remember my advice, try and take it easy, and call me if you have any problems. Also, you should probably avoid any more press conferences." He reached out and patted me between the ears, chuckling, and turned away.

  "Thanks, Doc" I said.

  Chapter 10

  I was sipping juice and relaxing in the dark of my quarters, enjoying the peace and quiet after such a stressful day when I heard my door chime. I stood on my hind paws and hit the communicator panel near my bed. I was surprised to hear Charlie on the other end of the line.

  “Hey Snow, did I wake you?”

  “No, just relaxing in the dark, but it's kind of late. What's going on? Another emergency?” After the day I had, I wouldn't have been surprised if he was about to tell me to abandon ship.

  “No, everything’s OK, just need a few minutes of your time. Are you gonna let me in or not?” he prompted, in his normal joking manner.

  I tapped the little button on my wrist device, and the door slid open to reveal Charlie, and standing behind him was a small nervous looking man in his early twenties. He was scrawny and seemed very awkward. Charlie turned and faced him and asked him to wait outside for just a few minutes. He quietly agreed, turned, almost tripped over his own boots, and stepped out of my quarters, with the doors sliding closed behind him.

  “So who’s that? Your kid brother?” I asked teasingly.

  “Ha ha, very funny. No, but he is a youngster. First year in the service and first posting star-side… He's in cryptographic communications and was top of his class so they put him on the first transport out here. Which, coincidentally, was the LRRC.”

  “So why are you here?” I pressed for answers.

  “Oh, well, when you spend two weeks in a small spacecraft with someone you kind of get to know them, and I happen to think your unique perspective could help him out,” he said cryptically.

  “Charlie, do I need to bring him in here to decode what you’re asking? What in the hell could I do to help him?” I was growing impatient, but I could tell he was enjoying this.

  “He wants to ask about being a morphic, Snow. He thinks he might be one.” I stared at Charlie and just nodded slowly.

  “Shit. Well, I don’t know how much help I can offer but yeah, I'll talk to him. Just because I went through the process doesn’t make me an expert you know.” I swallowed, feeling nervous, but in that moment I couldn't exactly fathom why.

  “All I ask is that you talk to him Snow. He's a good kid. Sucks at poker, but a real talker when you get him going. For what it’s worth, I really think you can help him,” he said reassuringly.

  “OK, OK, you got me. Show him in.” I swallowed nervously.

  Charlie opened the door after setting a chair near the bed I was perched on and let in the young ensign. He was pale with nervousness and even had a vague smell of fear. Just being here was taking courage for him. Charlie quietly reassured him, then spoke.

  “I will just be outside Snow. You need anything, just tap the communicator. His name is Bradley by the way.” Charlie smiled, gave me a thumbs-up and stepped out of my quarters.

  We stood there for a few minutes. I looked at him and he looked at me. I don't think either of us knew how to get things started. Finally I spoke.

  “Um, Kid... er Bradley, Charlie said you had some questions for me?” For once I was grateful to break a silence.

  He tapped his foot, looking up at the ceiling and then down at the floor. He seemed afraid to make eye contact but I could tell his question was important. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity he looked down at me and almost shouted, "What's it like being a morphic?" The words veritably poured out of him, like a great pressure being relieved.

  "I dunno, what's it like being a human?" I retorted quickly, inwardly cursing myself for my sarcasm.

  He looked at me quizzically, and then laughed uncontrollably at my response. I think it was the first time I had seen him breathe the entire time he had been here.

  "Come on now, really, what made you do it?" He asked, pressing me.

  I looked down thoughtfully, memories of my time before shift flooding into me. “I felt I had to. There was this deep inner drive that’s always been with me. Something has always told me that my identity was something outside of human. I've talked to a lot of morphics and they all felt very similar. No one just woke up one day and decided to tank. It was something that was always inside them. Does that make sense?” I took a deep breath and hoped dearly I was helping this kid.

  “Yeah, I think so. If it’s you, it’s you,” he replied thoughtfully. “So, tell me. What was it like, the boosters, the tanking? Did any of it hurt?” Something in how he spoke conveyed a depth and a need. He looked at me hopefully.

  I smiled and stretched out, reveling in happy memories. "The boosters are the most fun, because you’re awake for it. You get to watch your whiskers develop, feel new instincts, touch your fur. To use a religious metaphor, it’s like slowly being born again, and it's so exciting you don’t mind the soreness, or the nausea, or the fatigue. It's not easy, but if you want it bad enough, you put up with the good and the bad. The tanking, well, you have about two minutes conscious before the meds take effect. You’re floating and warm. It's completely comfortable, in a way I haven’t experienced since. Then you drift to sleep."

  He opened his mouth to reply, or maybe ask another question, but I wasn't done. I was busy traversing through the most beautiful memory of my life.

  “Waking up is beautiful. Your eyes open, and you’re in the tank, and logically your brain knows everything is different, everything is changed. Yet by this time, the neural pathways are in place, and it feels natural. If it was still part of me, I would have wept as I saw my forepaw twitch in my vision, as I opened new eyes on the world, and to be honest I have seen many blended morphics who do. I don't want to romanticize this too much for you, but my waking was the happiest moment of my life.” I took a deep breath and savored that moment, reliving it again.

  I took a deep breath after a few minutes of silent reflection and refocused. “Charlie tells me you're thinking of tanking, or at least that you're a morphic. I've been there, right where you are now. If you want, talk to me about it.” I reached out, wanting to help him.

  He looked down with the air of someone on the verge of confession. He heaved a heavy sigh, and as he spoke I saw a weight lift off of him. "I feel like a mouse, uh like that’s what I am inside.” He stammered a bit, nervous, but he pushed on. “I know that seems silly, or not masculine or whatever, but I know exactly what you mean. I just haven’t figured out how to go about it yet. I don’t think I want to go as far as you. I just would like to be, different than I am now. I can't tell you how often I have looked out at the stars and wondered about this, or even if it’s right for me. Still your experience, it’s amazing and I can't tell you how often I’ve wanted something like this. Sometimes it feels like something’s trying to claw its way out of me.” I saw a tear fall. He took a deep halting breath and looked down, processing through his burden.

  I reached out and put a paw on his knee, trying to reassure him. “My advice is, don’t rush it. I planned on having my whole career before I shifted; wanted to make sure I was set up. It didn't work out that way, but there is nothing wrong with taking it slow."

  "Part of me is really impatient, Ambassador, really impatient, but the rest of me looks at the world and the way things are and, I dunno, I feel like I’m going to go crazy trying to make my decision. I'd love to be me, but I don't want to be beaten to death in an alley either. It’s not like I can run off and join a colony. I mean, my whole family is back on Earth; I don't want to leave them."

  "Eventually you’re goi
ng to have to make a choice, but you have your entire life to figure out who you are, and I'm sure you have time, don't rush it. A piece of advice, though: don't be afraid to move, either. Life is better if you live it the way you need to, not the way they tell you to," I said gently. “Kid, I think you are going to be fine. You won’t believe me now, but in the end it’s an easy choice. You just have to decide how much being yourself, and true to yourself, matters to you. If you ask me though, I think deep down you might have chosen already.” I smiled and rose up on my hind paws.

  He grinned at me and wiped his eyes. “You gave me a lot to think about Snow. Thank you, but for now I should get back to my quarters. I go on duty in a couple hours. Seriously, thank you.” He reached over and hugged me. Something inside briefly panicked and then calmed down, and with that he left.

  Charlie re-entered as Bradley departed, and he was smiling at me. “So do we have a new convert to the church of cute and fluffy?” he quipped quickly.

  “Stuff it Charlie! Good God.” I fell over giggling.

  “Yeah, I know, terrible. That's why you won’t stop giggling.” He smiled at me and ruffled my ears. “Seriously though, how did it go with the kid?” He was obviously enjoying my reaction.

  “I really think he's gonna be fine Charlie. He has his whole life ahead of him. I have no doubt he's going to achieve his dream.” I took a deep breath. I felt good, better than I had the whole mission.

  “Charlie? Why don't we pull out some materials and review for a few hours? I'm in the mood to work.” I stretched and eyed my console with serious intent.

  “Aye, Captain. Whatever you say,” Charlie quipped, pulling the chair up near my computer.

  We worked diligently on Mendian protocols for a few hours until my eyes were ready to go crossed with information. My head was stuffy and the resolve I had shown a few hours ago had finally given way to fatigue. It had been a very full day. Charlie yawned, and suggested we call it a night. I would have agreed, but I was already close to dozing in bed as he quietly rose and left.

 

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