We Come In Peace

by Lillian Francken

  It was then one of the locals got up from his table and walked over to the counter. He glanced at Clyde and then turned to the sheriff.

  “Probably looking for horse meat in your truck.”

  Clyde quickly pointed to the customer. “You been eating here going on five years now. If you don’t like the food, there’s McDonald's down the road,” Clyde snapped.

  It was like that with the locals. They liked to tease Clyde about his cooking. His fifteen years in the military cooking for the troops did nothing for the quality of food he served.

  “This alert is different,” Sheriff Mall added quickly, to defuse Clyde and the customer.

  Jenny turned to the sheriff. “Seriously?”

  Sheriff Mall raised his eyebrows. “Yes, seriously.”

  “I don’t pay attention to them anymore.”

  “Rumors have it there has been another alien landing.”

  Jenny laughed hysterically. “That would mean there would have had to have been, a first landing!”

  Jenny glanced around the room at the clusters of aliens sitting at the various tables around the café. Given the convention in town, it would be hard to tell the real aliens from those attending the conference.

  Jenny quickly added, “When was this landing supposed to have taken place?”

  “It was yesterday afternoon. Did some damage to the station out on the highway.”

  “Hope they leveled it,” Jenny said.

  “Hey, that’s my favorite station,” Clyde added.

  Jenny turned to Clyde, still looking through the opening between the kitchen and counter. “Figures.”

  “No such luck. They’ll be off the air a week or two, that’s it.”

  “Too bad,” Jenny snapped.

  The Sheriff picked up his coffee and then took a sip. He looked at Jenny a moment, indicating for her to top it off a little.

  “They are looking into a kid who was out in the desert yesterday afternoon.”

  Jenny got a strange look on her face as she turned and stared at the Sheriff. She knew Bobby skipped school yesterday and spent time in the desert, but surely if he had seen something, he would have told her. She had spent so much time thinking about the two strangers he brought home that she did not even ask what he was doing in the desert all day.

  “So, why you telling me? Jenny asked.

  “The description fits Bobby,” Sheriff Mall added as he observed Jenny.

  “He was in school,” she stammered for a moment.

  Clyde poked his head out of the kitchen. “That isn’t...” he started to say before Jenny cut him off.

  “So now what?” Jenny asked the Sheriff.

  “That’s what I told the Colonel at the base,” he said as he shrugged. “I just thought I’d mention it.”

  Jenny walked over to the pot of coffee and quickly topped off the Sheriff’s cup. She then walked around the room and finished everyone else’s cup. For some reason, she no longer wanted to talk to the Sheriff. She’d lied about Bobby being in school and was not sure if Sheriff Mall would take her word or check with the school to see if Bobby was there yesterday. For some reason, she felt the need to protect Bobby, like a mother bear protecting her cub. Jenny stopped in front of the Sheriff finally, and with a look of real concern, she whispered:

  “He is doing his best to fit in.”

  “Just so when he graduates, the school is still standing.”

  Jenny forced a smile. She set the coffee pot down and then reached for the order that was ready and carried it over to where the sheriff was sitting. Sheriff Mall turned and looked around the café.

  “Looks like you could use some help,” he said to Jenny.

  Clyde glanced through the opening in the wall from the kitchen. Jenny turned to him.

  “I was telling Clyde that just this morning,” Jenny snapped.

  Clyde made a face at Jenny indicating, blah, blah, blah, and then he turned to the Sheriff, who was busy devouring his breakfast.

  “So the Army’s on alert again. Maybe they got all that nerve gas stored out there. Someone has been sniffing the stuff.

  “Don’t even start up with that again,” Sheriff Mall snapped.

  “I tell you, they should all be kicked out of Washington and start all over again. The currency in the National Trust is fraudulent . . .”

  Sheriff Mall held up his hands for Clyde to stop. As many times as he had been in the café as he could remember, he had had this same argument with Clyde. He was a believer in every conspiracy theory that was the flavor of the day. From the Holocaust to 9/11, it never mattered what major event had happened. He always had a theory of a cover-up. He shook his head finally and then tossed a bill on the counter.

  “You don’t like what they’re doing. Then you run for office. The House seat is up for grabs next term.”

  The door opened suddenly and two Cammo dudes walked in. They glanceded around, then walked over to the counter, and both quickly sat down on stools at the end. Jenny wiped her brow while looking at Sheriff Mall.

  “Well, pardon me, but duty calls,” she said as she walked over to where the Cammo dudes were sitting.

  Sheriff Mall quickly spouted out, “You tell your nephew I have my eye on him.

  Jenny just turned and smiled. “He will be happy to hear that,” she said as she walked to the end of the counter. She turned to the Cammo dudes and quickly put her pen to pad.

  CHAPTER 10

  The air was stifling hot in the old machine shed. John propped open the windows, but with minimal air movement, it did nothing to give him relief. Although the spacecraft had its ventilation system, John was reluctant to turn on the engines given the current state of the craft.

  So all his efforts went to cleaning up the debris inside the craft, and the pile of garbage outside the ship door grew. John had been at it for almost two hours without any break. Spot stayed where John commanded him to sit. Jane walked into the shed, wearing a pastel-blue cotton housedress while carrying a tray of food. She still looked sexy in the homey-looking dress, but this was lost on John, who never thought of her as anything other than his commander. Jane walked up to Spot, still sitting outside the craft. She pointed for him to move out of her way. Spot reluctantly obeyed. Jane looked into the craft at John, who was busy putting undamaged things back in their place.

  “What is your assessment?” Jane asked.

  John maneuvered out from under the control panel while Jane stepped into the craft. She looked around. For some reason, she hadn’t remembered how much damage was done in their landing. On the counter, she stared at the damaged syringe and cylinders. John slowly rolled over and then brushed off the dust from his jeans. He just looked up at Jane staring down at him. He could not take his eyes off her bare legs, glancing up the housedress as far as he could see. Jane nervously stepped back, uncomfortable for a moment and not knowing why. She set the tray down while John quickly got up and brushed off his backside.

  “I could get it started if the power module wasn’t damaged. It will only run for a short period.”

  “Surely there is something on this planet suitable. . .”

  John cut her off. “It may take some doing,” he said.

  “Make it so.”

  John laughed at the absurdity of her command. He motioned to the tools on the wall. They were all antique farming tools indicative of the family’s heritage, not what was in practical use in today’s time.

  “They are a primitive people,” John snapped.

  Just then, a plane flew overhead. They both looked up, realizing that the tools on the wall were not indicative of the technology that produced the plane.

  “They may be primitive,” Jane said, while still looking up and then turning to the tools on the wall. “But they do have the technology to build crafts that fly.”

  “I did an analysis. They use a fossil fuel not compatible with our technology.”

  “You are the engineer!”

  Jane was right. He was the engineer. H
owever, all his training was on their home planet with elements he did not think this world had discovered yet. Plus the fact he was plucked out of the academy before completion.

  “Third level engineer,” John added.

  It was a reminder to Jane just how limited his knowledge was. There were two years left of his training. When this assignment came up, they were desperate to fill it. Not wanting to give up their top-notch engineers for a job that everyone knew would fail. Therefore John was enlisted for the job. He was tired of the theoretical work at the academy and always longed for air travel. So when given the chance, he jumped at the opportunity for this adventure.

  “Surely you can come up with something,” Jane begged.

  Jane motioned to the house. She had been in there all morning trying to do whatever it was that people on Earth do. But Jane found it difficult just to sit and do nothing.

  “Elmer talked about eBay and all you can buy on that site. We could use their computer technology to search for what we need.”

  John turned to Jane with puzzlement on his face and then shook his head. Time was running out for them, and he saw it on Jane’s face when she stared at the medical box on the counter. He watched as she slowly walked over to it again and picked up the broken syringe. He never really knew why they had to be injected daily, only that if an injection were missed, fatal consequences would ensue. It had been two sun settings since their last injection, and they were still alive, so he now questioned the need.

  “We can’t stay here,” Jane said, breaking the long silence.

  John glanced up at her and smirked. “There’s no choice.”

  “We will expire.”

  John walked over to Jane. He picked up one of the cylinders and turned it over in his hand. John knew now for whatever reason they took the injections, it wasn’t to stay alive, but Jane still bought into what was instilled in them all through the academy. He didn’t want to let on to Jane that he now questioned the validity of their injections, so chose to go along with her.

  “How much time do we have?” he asked, looking concerned as if he believed what he said.

  “I don’t honestly know.”

  John thought for a moment. He knew he had to get Jane’s mind off the damaged cylinder and syringe for her to concentrate on getting the craft airborne again.

  “Wasn’t there a message sent from Kazar, light years after his crash?” he finally asked.

  “We can’t be sure it was him.”

  “If it was him, then he managed to survive without his injections.”

  Jane turns to John in disbelief. “It could have been a warp in the continuum,” she snapped.

  There was no clear explanation, but one thing was sure. They would find out soon enough what it would mean not to be injected by what they were led to believe was necessary for life.

  “I don’t buy that.”

  “Our elders weren’t sure.”

  “Isn’t that why we were sent here? To rescue him.”

  “The elders were also looking for a Nebula to use for future colonization of our people,” Jane concluded.

  It was a fact that was never shared with John. Up until then, it was not necessary to divulge the real reason behind their journey. He was only the navigator. Such classified information was kept from underlings.

  John turned to Jane. ”What are you saying?

  Jane shrugged. “Our world is dying.”

  John appeared puzzled by that remark. It was the first time he had heard such news. Yeah, there was talk, but never anything to substantiate that the rumors about pending doom were something to take seriously.

  “If we find Kazar it proves we can survive, but how will we let the elders know?”

  There was a concerned look on Jane’s face. It was something that had been weighing heavily on her ever since the mission started. In all her training for this venture, no one anticipated that the return home would be impossible if problems occurred with the craft. It was the first time she’d thought about it, but the craft was only built for two occupants. There would have been no way they could have transported Kazar back home. She wondered now what the elders had in mind when they found him and reported the news.

  Jane did not want to express her concerns to John. After all, he was just the navigator on this little misadventure. She did not know how much she could trust that he would not report to the elders her concerns. It was not wise for someone in her position to question the authority of the ancients.

  She turned to John. “First, we have to find out what the earthlings plan to do with us,” she said, hoping this would take John’s mind off what their mission was.

  “They treat us well.”

  “We are their prisoners.”

  John turned to Jane with a look of disbelief. He found it difficult to judge whether she truly believed they were being held captive.

  “They are a difficult species to understand. I’ll give you that. But I don’t think we are their captives,” John argued.

  John remembered yesterday, and how Bobby and his family treated them. In all his training about being a captive and interrogation techniques used, he never felt any of that mirrored what transpired since their landing. The little bits of nourishments in the dish yesterday were most pleasant in his mouth. He had never tasted morsels such as that. However, the meal they ate made his stomach ache with fullness once he was done. He now questioned whether it was his fault for devouring too much or was the dish served meant to make him feel that way.

  Jane reached up and opened the cabinet door. Inside were foil-wrapped packets. She took one out and quickly opened it. She pulled up the dry piece of dehydrated nourishment and handed it to John, who just looked at it in return.

  “Take nourishment,” Jane commanded.

  After yesterday’s feast with the earthlings, it was hard to go back to eating the dehydrated food packet for their journey. Especially seeing they had such succulent pieces of food in the house of their captors that was shared with them. He did not feel like he was a captive, more like a guest in their home.

  John finally took the piece of dehydrated nourishment from Jane. He sniffed it and then looked up at Jane.

  “Who do you think prepared this piece of cardboard?” he said with a look of concern.

  “I never thought to question it, now shut up and eat.”

  John took a bite off the hard piece that Jane held out in front of him. He found it difficult not to look at Jane’s heaving chest as he chewed on the piece in his mouth and found it difficult to swallow.

  Jane, sensing John’s ever-present need to question their mission now and her reluctance to share her intelligence about their mission. She just turned and walked out of the craft.

  John, in turn, spat out the dehydrated nourishment that he had in his mouth. He would eat when he was hungry, not to sustain himself with food he now questioned the need for. The earthlings were treating them well, and he trusted that they would not poison them with the food they served. How can anything that tasted so good be so bad for you? He only hoped Jane would finally see it his way and stop trying to read more into it than there was meant to be. He liked the earthlings and wondered why his elders feared them as they did.

  CHAPTER 11

  The afternoon sun was high in the sky, the air dry and void of any moisture. The Calculus classroom faced southwest, making it almost unbearable in the afternoon heat. Bobby sat in the back row of the classroom, as he looked longingly at the picture of Shelby Mall hidden in his notebook. He’d cut the picture out of the yearbook in the library.

  Bobby had not been paying attention to Mr. Hill pacing in front of the whiteboard that still had Bobby’s corrected calculation on it. Mr. Hill finally turned to Bobby while shaking his head. But Bobby was still too engrossed in the picture that held his attention.

  “I should have seen it,” was all Mr. Hill said.

  Bobby finally looked up. “Dude, you talking to me?”

  Mr. Hill walked to the back
of the room where Bobby was sitting. “You should be doing better in class.”

  Bobby was still in a daydream state. He quickly closed the notebook on Shelby’s picture. Bobby sat up and shook his head as if just waking. He slowly looked up at Mr. Hill standing over him.

  “What’s your point?” Bobby said finally.

  “You graduate next month. Have you given any thought to your future? What are your plans?”

  “Dude, one month is a lifetime in teen years,” Bobby said and then slumped back down as if not caring.

  Mr. Hill studied Bobby for a moment. For some reason, he knew there was an intelligent being inside that teenage body. He just did not know how to reach it. He had heard of Bobby’s antics in other classes. But he wasn’t buying the fact the kid in front of him was a space cadet. He knew the kid had potential, but just wasn’t using it.

  “Most of the teachers here don’t give much hope for your academic skills,” Mr. Hill snapped.

  It was then he turned back to the equation on the whiteboard. He couldn’t help studying it for the longest time. It just amazed him how easy it was for Bobby to correct the mistake in the equation.

  Mr. Hill pointed to the whiteboard and continued, “You would not have been able to point out the error of my ways if you did not have something upstairs other than dead air.” He hesitated a moment before adding, “Have you taken the SAT yet?” He asked as if he had a right to know.

  “Like, who hasn’t,” Bobby said as if not caring.

  “What was your score?”

  Bobby looks up at Mr. Hill for the longest time before deciding not to divulge his score. Besides, he would only think he cheated like so many of his other teachers assumed when he got a good grade on a test he took.

  “It was respectable,” Bobby said softly.

  “Not all kids test well?”

  That remark puzzled Bobby. It made Mr. Hill sound like he cared what his score was. However, Bobby was not going to fall for his apparent concern. He had been too screwed over by teachers in the past to fall for Mr. Hill’s caring nature right now.

  “What makes you think I didn’t test well?” Bobby asked. It troubled him that Mr. Hill assumed he did poorly, as so many of his teachers previously had done.