Redemption Song

by Henry A. Burns

  “You’re always in the middle of something,” complained Freeman. He waved a finger. “All work and all that,” he pointed out. “You gotta make time for fun.”

  Franklin laughed. “Working on Rynn tech is fun,” he said in emphasis. He waved a hand. “Go on. Just don’t drink all the beer before I get there.”

  “Hey, there’s no way I’m gonna promise that,” Freeman replied with a laugh and headed out.

  Franklin sighed and turned back to his terminal. While it was true that he was in the middle of a project, that wasn’t the real reason he wasn’t going off with Marcus and the rest of the team. Back to work, Jo-Jo, he told himself.

  He had to admit Rynn tech was fascinating. The Rynn seemed to be falling all over themselves to provide technology that could be easily duplicated, and part of Franklin’s job was to evaluate the technology provided. Easter-egg hunting was the unofficial term. So far, he hadn’t found anything of concern.

  A close-by chirping caused Franklin to start, and he looked toward the sound. Two Rynn males had entered the lab and were heading toward him. He recognized them as two of the Rynn who apparently were assigned to help with the technological transfer. He couldn’t help smiling in welcome. “Hi, Red Clouds Paint the Sky. Hi, Black Rocks,” he called in greeting.

  “Greetings, Technician Joseph Franklin,” Red Clouds Paint the Sky replied. “You work passed your assigned hours again, we see.”

  “If you mean I’m working late, then yeah,” Franklin replied.

  Black Rocks covered his eyes for a second. “The First Teacher said, ‘Hard work brings rewards, but take the time to enjoy those rewards.’”

  Franklin rubbed his head in embarrassment. “What’s with everyone telling me to ease up?” he grumbled. “Marcus just told me pretty much the same thing.”

  “He must care,” Black Rocks replied. “Forgive me if I offend, but is it that he wishes to be your core brother?”

  “Core brother?” Franklin asked in confusion. “I just got here, so if that was part of the briefing …”

  “I would not call being among us for two of your ‘weeks’ just,” Red Clouds Paint the Sky replied. “And in those two weeks, I have never seen you do other than work.” His crest flattened slightly. “And you do not smile.”

  “I smile,” protested Franklin.

  “You smile when people are looking,” Red Clouds Paint the Sky said in disagreement. “Black Rocks and I noticed that …” His crest flattened even more. “When you think no one is looking, you appear sad.”

  “I’m just busy, that’s all,” Franklin protested.

  “You are frustrated and alone,” Black Rocks replied. “You need a core brother to remove that frustration.”

  Franklin’s mouth suddenly became dry. “Why do you keep saying ‘core brother’? Why not ‘core sister’?” He stopped as both Rynn males chittered in amusement. “What?”

  “A core sister is not what you desire.” Black Rocks’s crest fluttered. “That is as obvious as that great lump you call a nose,” he added.

  Red Clouds Paint the Sky nodded in agreement. The two Rynn men walked closer, and Black Rocks put a hand on Franklin’s forearm. “Why do you pretend otherwise?”

  “The First Teacher said, ‘Denying your true self is to deny happiness,’” Red Clouds Paint the Sky said in concern. “Why do you wish to be unhappy?”

  Franklin shook off the Rynn’s hand. “You’re wrong,” he growled. “I – I …” He hung his head. “Why do you care?”

  “Because we do,” Black Rocks replied. “We see your pain, and it hurts us.” He added, “When you smile, it is as if the sun has come to greet the day.”

  Franklin raised his head, though he did not look at either Rynn male. “I don’t know how,” he said in a voice full of pain. “I’ve had to hide … for so long.” The two Rynn men leaned against him. “I’m afraid,” he whispered.

  “There is no need to fear,” Red Clouds Paint the Sky said in a quiet voice. “Your core brothers are with you.” He and Black Rocks pulled the human to his feet. “Come, Core Brother,” he said. “Let us see if we can make the sun greet the day.”

  “Let us try, Core Brother,” Black Rocks pleaded.

  The morning mess hall was as packed and as noisy as usual as everyone hurried to get breakfast and find a place to sit. Most groups had a set table, and the techs were no different. “Has anyone seen Franklin?” Freeman asked as he sat down with his tray. “His bunk wasn’t used last night.”

  “You try the lab?” one of the techs replied. “He’s fallen asleep there more than once.”

  “First place I looked,” Freeman replied. “It’s not like him.” He rubbed his chin. “He may be a bit of a flake, but he’s pretty reliable.” He pursed his lips. “If you see Franklin, tell him …”

  “Tell me what?” Franklin said from the edge of the table as he sat down. “Sorry I’m late; overslept,” he said cheerfully and dug hungrily into his breakfast.

  “Where were you last night?” Freeman asked.

  Franklin pointed upward. “Spent the night in the Seeker,” he said around a mouthful of food. “That is one amazing ship.”

  All eyes focused on Franklin. “You … you were on the Seeker?” Freeman asked. “How the fuck did you end up there?”

  “The same way anyone else does. I took a shuttle,” snickered Franklin. “Red Clouds Paint the Sky and Black Rocks insisted.” His smile seemed to get wider. “You have got to try sleeping in a Rynn bed,” he said.

  “You slept in a Rynn bed?” one of the techs asked in obvious jealous tones.

  “Eventually,” Franklin replied. He stretched. “Man, do I feel good,” he said. “Oh, that reminds me, got to talk to the CO.” He stood. “I’ll meet you guys in the lab.” He picked up his now empty tray and walked away, whistling as he went.

  Freeman and the techs watched him leave in open-mouthed wonder. “What the hell?” he exclaimed. “Do you think he got his hands on some Rynn happy pills?”

  “I recognized those names Franklin mentioned—Red Clouds and Black Rocks are Rynn men,” one of the techs said in mild tones. “Core brothers.”

  “Franklin?” Freeman exclaimed in disbelief.

  “Looks like,” the tech replied.

  Franklin walked to the large tent that had been set up as C&C for what was now being referred to as “the colony.” The tent was large enough that it could be divided into individual sections, with the outer section acting as a reception and the inner part of the tent contained the CO’s office and a conference room. The sergeant currently running the reception looked up. “Is the CO in?” Franklin asked.

  “You’re Franklin, aren’t you?” the sergeant asked. “Well, that saves me a trip,” he said cryptically. He tapped a board. “TS Franklin is here to see you, commander,” he said into a throat mike. “Nope, just walked in on his own.” He looked at Franklin. “Go in. He wants to talk to you.”

  Franklin frowned as he entered the CO’s office. To his surprise, the Rynn captain was already there. The CO looked at him sourly, while the Rynn captain seemed delighted to see him. He saluted.

  “At ease,” said Lieutenant Commander Eisenstadt. “Your name has been mentioned frequently in the last hour, Specialist,” the commander said brusquely. “Do I understand correctly that you spent the … um, evening aboard the Seeker?”

  “Yes, sir,” Franklin replied cautiously.

  “And were you in the company of …” He looked at a piece of paper. “Red Clouds Paint the Sky and Black Rocks?”

  “Yes, sir.” Franklin replied. “Am I in trouble, sir?”

  “I should throw you in the brig, if we had a brig, for desertion,” the commander replied in irritated tones. “The only thing that’s keeping me from doing it is that Captain Kasumi threatened me if I did.”

  “I didn’t threaten you, David,” chi
ded Kasumi through her translator. “I just said that if you ever wanted to spend any more time with my core, you’d let the matter proceed without interference.”

  “Dammit, Kasumi, he—” began the commander.

  “Oh please, David,” Kasumi chirped. “The suites aboard the Seeker are a lot more spacious—not to mention, the kips are bigger.” Kasumi chittered a laugh. “Though there were a few complaints about the noise.” She turned in her chair. “One would think it was your first time.” Her crest raised at Franklin’s blush. “Really?” she said in amused tones. “Spirits sing.”

  “It’s going to ruin discipline, Kasumi,” complained the commander.

  “Hendriks and Cool Evening Breeze haven’t caused any problems that I’m aware of,” Kasumi replied. “Though we are going to need some more human women around here, since none of the Rynn women seem interested in joining them.” She chittered again. “None of the Rynn men either. Cool Evening Breeze has been a little too descriptive of Hendriks’s, um, assets, and has scared them off.”

  “The men or the women?” asked the commander.

  “Both.” Kasumi chittered again. She gave Franklin an approving look. “Three is a much more stable configuration, and I had despaired of Black Rocks and Red Clouds Paints the Sky — finding their third.” She turned back to the commander. “From my point of view, Franklin has improved discipline, at least among my crew.” She nodded her head toward Franklin. “Put it this way, David. If you don’t want him, I can and will make a place for him among my crew.” She turned in her chair again. “Red Clouds Paint the Sky and Black Rocks have both requested that Franklin be permitted to move into their ship quarters.” She smiled and her crest fluttered. “If I wish to maintain … discipline,” she chittered, “you will say yes.”

  “Would that be permitted, sir?” Franklin asked the commander.

  “It might be better and safer if you did,” the commander said in grudging tones. “California is liberal, but soldiers are usually not,” he grumbled. “Permission granted.”

  Franklin saluted. “Thank you, sir.” He then looked at the Rynn captain and briefly covered his eyes. “Thank you, ma’am.” Kasumi chittered in amusement in response.

  “Dismissed,” the commander said, and Franklin left the office. He waited for a moment and then returned his attention to Kasumi. “They’re pairing up.”

  “Three-ing,” corrected Kasumi with a Rynn smile.

  “You know what I mean,” the commander replied testily. “And it doesn’t help that you’re encouraging it.”

  Kasumi chittered again. “Of course I’m encouraging it,” she said. “If everything goes as we hope, the Seeker is going to leave with humans aboard it,” she pointed out. “And the ones who are best able to interact with the Rynn are the ones I want on my ship.” Her crest stiffened. “Right now, I am willing to take Hendriks and Franklin,” she grinned. “And you.” She rubbed her chin. “We need more human women,” she repeated. “Mel probably won’t mind, but I’d rather there be more human women regardless.”

  14

  PRESS CORP

  “This is CNN. Crystal Chandler reporting,” the blonde reporter said. “In late-breaking news, the House has voted to impeach President Overbid.” The reporter’s expression became serious. “With the passage of the articles of impeachment, the Senate will now vote to determine if President Overbid will be removed from office. In previous impeachments, getting the required supermajority has proved difficult, and this current proceeding may be no different,” she said. “A vote has been scheduled for this Wednesday, and the Senate will not be broadcasting the proceedings.

  “In other late-breaking news, there have been unconfirmed reports of military action in and around Knox Gulch.” The reporter turned to another camera, and an image of a forested and mountainous region appeared behind her. “In a press release, the CNG has only acknowledged that there have been reports but has not confirmed those reports.”

  The reporter turned to another camera. “More when we return.” She waited until the director gave the all clear before removing her mic. “Danny!” she yelled. “Anything from Knox Gulch?”

  “Nothing related to any shootings, Crystal,” Danny replied. “I got a call from some kook who claims there’s a secret alien base there, but that’s about it.” He laughed. “He even sent me a photo of what he claims is an alien.” Danny pulled out his cell phone, called up the file, and sent it to Crystal.

  Crystal Chandler looked at the picture. It was grainy, as if it was taken by a cell phone at night, and it showed two figures. One was a soldier in military gear, while the other was barely more than half the size of the soldier and had what looked like a cockatoo’s crest on its head. Crystal frowned. “Where was this taken?” she asked.

  “The caller claims it’s a few miles outside of Knox Gulch,” Danny replied. “About five miles south of an alt-right colony.” Danny pursed his lips in thought. “Come to think of it, if there is an alt-right colony over there, there’s a good chance they’d consider any military presence anywhere near them an incursion.” He started looking though the papers on his desk. “Hmm, that’s interesting. There is a report of a Jeremiah Johnson being treated at a local clinic for burns.”

  “Burns?” the reporter asked.

  “Yeah, like a really bad case of sunburn, except it’s been overcast there. Mr. Johnson gave his mailing address as the alt-right colony.” He added, “What’s interesting is that Mr. Johnson claimed he was shot by a bird.”

  “Bird?” echoed the reporter, and she looked at the picture again. “Danny, I think I need to go to Knox Gulch.” She pulled out her phone and punched in a number. “Deirdre? It’s Crystal.”

  A car stopped on the shoulder of the road. The driver, an attractive black woman with finger-length dreads, got out of the car and looked around. “Well, according to the GPS,” she said, waving a hand, “that is Knox Gulch.”

  “There’s nothing here,” the female passenger replied as she joined the driver. “Are you sure this is right, Dierdre?”

  “I updated the GPS a week ago,” Dierdre McIntosh replied. “I’m as sure as I can be.” She shrugged. “We’re here, Crystal. Wherever the fuck here is.”

  “But there’s nothing here,” complained Crystal Chandler. “There isn’t even a marker.” She looked around. “I’m almost expecting to see some toothless kid with a banjo sitting on a stump.”

  “If I see a toothless kid with a banjo, we are getting back in the car and hightailing it out of here,” Dierdre replied. She tossed her head and made her curls bounce. “As it is, I’m half inclined to leave now anyways. My grandparents may have liked the country, but this little black girl likes her comforts.”

  “Says the girl who spent two weeks living on MREs in Iraq,” Crystal shot back. “Who you trying to kid?”

  “That was then,” Dierdre replied. “I was young and … do you hear something?” She turned her head. “Sounds like a truck.” Her hand went inside her coat. “Probably just another traveler, but …” The truck sound got louder, and it wasn’t long before a vehicle—a late-model Ford—rounded the bend from the north. The truck slowed and then stopped next to them.

  A woman with auburn hair leaned out the window. “Car trouble?” she asked. There was a chirping from the passenger side. “Nah, they definitely look like city people,” she said to the unseen passenger. She looked back at Crystal and Dierdre. “Car trouble?” she asked again.

  “Actually, we were looking for Knox Gulch.” Dierdre replied. The redhead laughed. “Problem?”

  “Nah, no problem,” the woman replied. “No Knox Gulch either. Not if you’re looking for a town. A gulch, yes; town, no.” She grinned. “When someone says they’re from Knox Gulch, it just means there from somewhere around here.” She waved a hand to include all the woodland. “The biggest settlement is a bunch of survivalists about five miles north. That who yo
u looking for?”

  “Actually I’m looking for the California National Guard that’s supposedly running some field exercises around here.” Crystal pulled out a card. “Crystal Chandler, CNN.”

  There was a chirping from the passenger side. “She’s a reporter, honey,” the redhead said to the unseen passenger. “That means she butts into other people’s business and blabs it on the television.” There was a chittering laugh in response.

  “The press performs a vital function,” Crystal said in affronted tones.

  “Yeah, yeah,” the redhead replied. “Why are you looking for them?” she asked. “If they’re out here, they probably don’t want to be found.” She laughed. “That’s usually the reason for just about anyone around here.”

  “Does that include you … Ms …?” Crystal asked.

  “Blunt. Melanie Blunt,” the redhead replied. She waggled a hand. “Actually, it’s my grandfather who likes his privacy.” There was a chirping again. Mel looked at the black woman. “Morning Mist says she likes your hair.” She turned back to the passenger. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, honey,” Mel sighed. “I know this is going to be a mistake. Oh, go ahead.”

  The passenger door opened, and a diminutive figure walked around to the driver side. She wore a pink hooded sweatshirt with the hood pulled over her face and a long skirt. She walked over to Dierdre. There was a chirping. “Your hair is beautiful,” said a pleasant soprano voice. “May I touch it?”

  “You haven’t met too many black girls, have you, girlfriend?” Dierdre replied. “We’re not fond of people touching our hair.”

  There was a chirping. “You would be the first,” came the voice. There was a chittering. “I propose a trade,” she said. “If you let me touch your hair, I’ll let you see my face.” There was another chittering. “I don’t think you’ve seen anyone like me before either.”

  “That’s for sure,” Mel said under her breath. “If you do that, we’re gonna have to take them with us.”