—It didn’t bother you? Switching sides, again?
—Have I ever misled you into thinking I was a p…patriot? Even if I were, I’m a Bosnian. I do what I do for everyone. I don’t care where I do it.
—You’re a regular Mother Teresa.
—Whatever you think of me, Dr. Franklin, I am not responsible for what is happening in the world. If anyone is g…guilty of that, it’s you.
—I didn’t come here to fight with you, Alyssa. I just want to find a way to stop this.
—Stop what?
—All of it. Lapetus. The camps. Everyone hating everyone. How did it come to this?
—Dr. Franklin, the free world was destroyed when the aliens came. All these ideas, democracy, the will of the people, everyone being equal, it’s based on the belief that, in the end, good will always t…tr…triumph over evil.
—It did. Didn’t it?
—Tell that to the tens of millions that died. They all died in the world’s biggest cities, where the power is. P…people were scared, and scared people defer to authority. The world also lost Themis. You may have d…disabled one of their robots, but it’s Themis that gave people hope. Then she was gone. But there it was, lying in the middle of Central Park. Lapetus was inevitable, Dr. Franklin. No one could have stopped it.
—You didn’t try.
—Me? No. Why would I? Why would I want Earth to be defen…defenseless? Why would anyone want that? Do you know why no one, why none of these countries fight back against the Americans?
—Because they can’t, Alyssa. They don’t fight back because they have nothing to fight with.
—No! They don’t fight back because they need Lapetus. They sleep better at night knowing it’s there even if it is their enemy that controls it, even if they have to give up some freedom for it. And the camps? The camps are nothing new.
—What are you talking about? Rounding up innocent people, citizens, born and raised in this country because they happen to have had their father’s genes expressed instead of their mother’s, or because they call their god by a different name? What are they doing to them, Alyssa? Are they killing them?
—Not many of them. Not for now. But it might happen. People have a very short memory, or a very selective one, I d…don’t know. You had over one hundred thousand people in camps during the Second World War, so did Canada. They were citizens too. That wasn’t in the Middle Ages. Our parents were there.
—I’m not defending what happened during the war, but we were fighting Japan. We’re not at war with those people. They haven’t done anything!
—Does it matter? We have to blame sssomeone. A hundred mmmillion people don’t die because…these things happen! The human mind doesn’t work that way.
—Sure! How about we blame the people that did it?
—Not good enough. That won’t make anyone feel better. There’s n…nothing you can do about them. They’re too powerful, and they’re not here. It has to be someone weaker, here. Then you can remove those people and feel safer. People need to feel safer.
—You’re crazy, Alyssa. Do you know that?
—I’m not saying this is a good thing. I’m saying it’s always been this way. We need scapegoats when bad things happen. The Jews poisoned the well.
—What?
—The Black D…Death. It killed almost half the world in the fourteenth century. Maybe the Jews were less affected, maybe it was a myth, but people in Europe blamed them for the disease, accused them of poisoning the water. So they threw them out of the cities, or they killed them. They murdered them inside their homes. They burned them alive. In Strasbourg, they brought hundreds of them inside a wooden house and set it on fire. They did this in France, in Germany, in Spain, in Switzerland. This was Europe, the p…p…pinnacle of civilization. It happened before, and it will happen again. You think the world ch…changed while you were gone? It hasn’t. This is who we are.
—I’m sorry, Alyssa, but I refuse to believe that.
—Good for you. I choose to be a realist.
—And so you helped with all of it.
—About as much as you did, yes.
—Don’t do that, Alyssa. I’m not like you.
—You complained about Lapetus and about the camps. You gave them Lapetus. There’s no d…denying that. It makes no difference whether you intended to or not. I made a genetic test so they could find pilots. They found pilots. Only they didn’t stop there, and they started screening everyone. There were aliens among us. People wanted them found.
—We’re all aliens, Alyssa. All of us are.
—I know. That was the problem. How do you find them if they’re everywhere? Imagine if tall people were to blame. Are you tall? Am I? They made the c…camps until they could decide who we’re supposed to be scared of. And yes, they used my test to do it. So blame me if you want, I don’t care.
—I think there’s enough of that going around. I came here to talk about Lapetus.
—Beautiful, isn’t he?
—How did you make that test of yours? We couldn’t find anyone else who could activate the helmets in Themis.
—Your sample size was too small. I had already made a series of t…tests based on the samples I had from your pilots, but it was too precise, too specific. I couldn’t find anyone with that much in common with them, but I now had a much larger sample of the po…population to look at.
—Who?
—The dead, of course! All one hundred million of them. The aliens made that test for us. They designed that gas to target their own kind. Some people died within seconds of being ex…posed to the alien gas. Some spent entire minutes breathing it before they died. If I could figure out who went first, I could narrow it down to a handful of genetic traits. I d…did.
—But there can’t be that many people with the right profile. We tested hundreds.
—You needed thousands. Sixty-eight thousand. That’s how many p…people you need to test on average to find one person the robot will respond to. I tested Me…Mexicans at first to make sure it worked. We used ICE—Immigration and Cu…customs Enforcement—to get blood samples of everyone they deported. Within a year, we found a few who could pilot.
—Did you use them?
—No. They wanted Americans.
—White Americans, of course.
—Anyone not a Muslim. Apparently, we can only hate so many people.
—That doesn’t make any sense. They put people with too much alien DNA in camps because they don’t trust them. Yet they want people with even more alien genetics to pilot the robot.
—Ironic, isn’t it? Too much alien DNA means you are either locked in a camp, or one of the mmmm…most powerful people in the world.
—And they’re OK with that?
—If you mean the US government, no. They’re not. The pilots are imp…implanted with a small explosive device, inside their skull. They can remote-detonate it if needed. It’s sss…supposed to be painless.
—And how did you get the robot to work? The aliens left because this one was destroyed.
—Disabled, not destroyed.
—How do they control it? Did they make more people like Vincent?
—No, they got the b…best engineers they could find and locked them in a room until they figured out a way. They built some contraption—it’s a robot, really—that sits on top of the existing controls. The pilot stands about a foot to the side, their legs inside flexible…tubes. There are sensors inside that ca…capture the human leg movements. The machine translates them into something that matches the alien physiology, then transfers motion to the robot’s controls. It’s fascinating to watch. I have it on video. Would you like to see?
—Some other time. I want to know how they made it work again. I disabled that robot, like you said. It didn’t work. It fell apart. The metal in its leg was�
��
—Dr. Franklin, I’m a gen…eticist. I know nothing about the metal, or what you d…did to it.
—You know it lost a leg. You can’t just attach a new one. It doesn’t work like that.
—They found a way to convince the rest of the body that the monstrosity they put in its place was the real thing. I don’t know how they did that.
—Surely you must know something. It happened here, no?
—All I know is it has to do with the decay rate of the metal where the pieces touch.
—I thought of that when we assembled Themis. I got nowhere with it.
—You know, Dr. Franklin, it is not entirely impossible that they found someone better than you.
—It’s easy to find someone better than me. I just don’t think we have the technology to do what you’re suggesting. We didn’t when I left, anyway.
—If it makes you feel better, they did have some help.
—From whom?
—Come, let me show you. Oh, and Dr. Franklin?
—Yes.
—I want you to know I had nnn…nothing to do with this.
FILE NO. 2143
INTERVIEW BETWEEN DR. ROSE FRANKLIN AND DETAINEE 46275
Location: United States Central Command (CENTCOM), MacDill Air Force Base, Tampa, Florida
—Dr. Franklin! What a pleasure!
—Mr. Burns! Your face! Who did this to you?
—I believe his name is Keith.
—This is crazy. Someone has to pay for this. Let me—
—No, Dr. Franklin, don’t. That someone will end up being me. They won’t listen to you, and they’ll punish me for not being able to convince you that I enjoy being punched in the face repeatedly.
—How did they find you? Who told them about you?
—You did, I’m afraid.
—Me?
—Oh, don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault. Unfortunately, you don’t enjoy the same level of anonymity our late friend did. Apparently, the NSA was curious to see why you flew to Washington during the alien attack and decided to have you followed. They arrested me not long after you vanished, in my favorite restaurant, no less.
—I’m so, so sorry.
—Don’t be. There’s nothing you could have done. And, you know, this room really isn’t so bad when I have it all to myself. My apartment wasn’t much bigger. I do miss television, and going out, and pens. They won’t give me a pen. I think they’re afraid I’ll try to kill myself. If these little physical therapy sessions told us anything, it’s that I don’t like the sight of blood, but they still won’t give me a pen. But enough about me! I’m not the one who’s been on another planet for almost a decade. How was it? What does it look like?
—You don’t know, do you?
—Why would I? I’m from Michigan.
—It was…interesting.
—OK, then. That’s all I wanted to know.
—I’m just not sure this is the best place to talk.
—Oh, that! Yes, the only time they turn off the cameras is when Keith pays me a visit. Some other time, then.
—What do they want with you? Why are they keeping you here?
—How did we get here? Good question. They took a blood sample when they first interrogated me, and they have been very interested in me ever since.
—But why here? They keep people with unusual DNA in camps.
—Well, my test results were more interesting than most. Not all, but most. Your blood is much more interesting if you ask me.
—And what do they want with you?
—They want information, mostly. I’m a…consultant. They consult me on things. They are very, very enthusiastic about it.
—They beat you up while interrogating you.
—Not exactly. They beat me up, period. Then they come and ask questions. Then they beat me up again to make sure I answer their questions the next time they come.
—What kind of questions?
—Hmmm. Technical questions, mostly. They wanted to know how to get a certain robot to function again. I’m a technical consultant.
—What made them think you would know anything about that?
—I’m not sure. I might have said something. I might have said a lot of things while I was being consulted.
—What have you told them?
—I told them…I told them everything I knew, I suppose. They can be very convincing, you know. It turns out people like me are very sensitive to certain drugs they have, and I’ll admit I have a very low tolerance for pain. Whatever I told them, it seems it wasn’t enough because they keep coming back for more. They seem genuinely surprised every time I don’t know the answer to a question. I keep explaining to them that the people who really knew died three thousand years ago. I must not be very good at explaining it.
—You’re the one who told them how to fix the missing leg.
—I remember them asking about that, yes. Oh yes. They asked about that many times. Did it work? They never told me if my solution worked.
—It did. Now they’re using that robot to bend other nations to their will.
—That’s not very nice.
—No. It’s not. I never even thought about what we’d do with that robot after it fell down. I was so happy, so relieved when they all left Earth, I—
—You didn’t have time! They took you away. There’s nothing you could have done—
—I could have sprayed bacteria all over that robot, disabled every part of it.
—Did you have enough?
—Not at the time, no.
—That’s what I thought. How’s Eva?
—I don’t know. She escaped.
—Escaped? From where?
—I’m sorry. We were being held in Russia. She found a way out of her cell, but I don’t know where she is. I’m worried about her.
—She’ll be OK. Did she have help? It would be better if she had some help, a friend to look after her.
—I don’t know. What are you saying?
—Nothing. Only that if I were in her shoes, I’d like to have a friend to watch over me. Wouldn’t you?
—Yes. I’d like that very much. I’d be very grateful.
—You’re a nice person, Dr. Franklin.
—You used to call me Rose.
—We haven’t met in nine years. I don’t know how you feel about me anymore.
—Why would I feel any different?
—I can give you a hundred million reasons.
—You feel responsible for what happened? You’ve been helping us, helping me, all along! You saved…so many of us.
—You did all that. I just told you a story or two. Besides, someone has to be held accountable, and since my ancestors are not here…They did come for people like me, you know.
—I don’t think you really believe that.
—…
—You know what I’d like? I’d like to hear a story.
—Oh, I think you’ve heard them all. I’m an old man. Old men don’t have any new stories to tell.
—Please? I could really use one now
—Well, there is the one about the blind archer. Have you heard that one before?
—I don’t think I have, no.
—Skaði was a great Viking archer and hunter. That wasn’t her real name—Skaði is a giantess, a goddess in Norse mythology—but she was so good with a bow…So good, she could feed the entire village by herself, and for years she did just that. People said she hunted with her eyes closed, that she could hear the heartbeat of her prey.
She couldn’t. That became abundantly clear when Skaði went blind.
—What happened? Was it an accident?
—Oh no. Diabetic retinopathy. Skaði, she developed type 2 diabetes in her early forties, which,
at the time, no one had even heard of. Needless to say, it went untreated. It took a few years, but she lost her eyesight completely.
The village survived. There were other hunters, of course. But one year, during a particularly harsh winter, the village ran out of food. Prey was scarce, and the archers weren’t nearly as skilled as Skaði. People were starving. Many of the men were now too weak to hunt. One of the elders suggested they send Skaði on a hunt. Many, including Skaði herself, were quick to point out that she was blind, but the elder quoted from a few myths about Skaði—the goddess, not the diabetic woman. Once you throw religion into the mix, it’s easy to lose sight of reality—no pun intended—and somehow everyone agreed to put their fate into the hands of a blind archer, believing the gods would take care of them. The elder offered to accompany Skaði into the forest, in large part because he knew that seeing her trip on a branch five steps in would probably be bad for morale.
They ventured deep into the forest. The wind was blowing, and there were no animal tracks to be found. The elder and Skaði were both ready to give up when a magnificent deer appeared out of nowhere. Skaði, well, she couldn’t see a thing. The elder walked in front of her to guide her. A little to the left. A little more. Skaði drew her bow as far as she could. She knew the elder’s verbal cues were not enough, and she would surely miss. She remembered what the villagers said about her and quietly summoned her namesake to help her, to let her hear the heartbeat of her prey. And for the briefest of moments, she did. She aimed at the sound and let go of the arrow. It is possible that Skaði did hear a heartbeat at such a distance, unlikely, but possible. Only if she did, it was the elder’s heartbeat and not the deer’s because her arrow went right through his heart, and he slid to the ground without a sound. Skaði called for him for hours, never found his body. She died the next day when she fell off a cliff trying to get back home.
The moral of the—
—I know what the moral of the story is. You can’t do anything if you don’t know what’s going on.
—I thought it was about not putting too much faith in one person’s ability to change things.
—Come closer.
[Ma’am! DO NOT approach the prisoner! Do not whisper to him!]
Only Human_The Themis Files Page 15