Anthropomorphic Foxes In Space….
Chapter 4
2.41 Aftermath
Dave:
The stars were flickering pinpoints in a black sky, reflected in the still lake. Black Horse Mesa is always completely dark at night. No civilization from horizon to horizon, not even a farm or ranch house. I was lying flay on my back on an outspread blanket, Chessec's furry form half sprawled across me, her head resting on my chest. If I were to look down, I would see her eyes staring at my chin. I wasn't ready for that yet, so I concentrated on the stars. One of them passed rapidly from south to north, trailing a glimmering tail.
"That's gotta hurt." Knowledge of such a huge inside joke broke my funk. Chessec licked my chin.
"Back among the living, finally? What's gotta hurt?" She curled tighter into my side, and I was glad for the warmth in the rapidly chilling air.
"I just saw two hundred million dollars worth of vaporized radar reconnaissance satellite go past. Chopic broke more US spy toys this morning than the next three smaller countries even own. You're right, I needed some perspective." With our actions covering Mitzep and Jena's takeoff, I was slightly depressed. And, for the first time in my life, having a hard time being sure we were still the good guys.
"Dave, I know you feel badly about those young soldiers, but it was just one of those unfortunate things that happen. We aren't here on earth just for entertainment. While we would like it if your human governments just naturally threw open their arms and welcomed us, you know it isn't going to happen. There are going to be more misunderstandings in the future, too. Are you ready for that?" I started slowly stroking the ridge of fur behind her shoulders.
"I knew it before, intellectually. Not it's just finally sunk in. They at least were just following orders, albeit incompetently. No, I'm beginning to understand 'conflicting loyalties'. I don't see any way through besides just doing what seems best. Hoping for a happy ending." She rolled completely on top and now we were looking into each other's eyes at a range of about eight inches.
"You're a good man, and a thoughtful one. I've been with you for less than a year, and I know you will make the right choices." I wrapped my arms around her, first detaching one of her rear claws that was digging sharply into my leg. I breathed in her musk before I replied.
"I guess I will have to. Family always comes first with me. And since my second wife is de facto representative of D'yimyi on Earth, I imagine affairs of state will intrude. And, as history has shown me, states play rough with each other. Even in the best of times."
"That sounds fairly cold. We will of course apologize for their deaths. But Chopic's actions, and yours, too, will show your government that there is a price for interfering with our mission. I'll write something when we get home. And you can figure out how to deliver it anonymously. But first, let's get some sleep." She removed my hand that was playing with her tail. I wrapped the blanket over us and closed my eyes. Then the past two days caught up with both of us.
One blink and the stars were out, the next and the sun was coming up over the rim of the mesa. There was a light coat of frost on the blanket, the tips of the fur on her head, and on her ears, where my breath had put out moisture. I was absolutely stiff; from cold, from the thin ground tarp, from the weight of a fox on my chest, and lastly, from the hard lump of the .45 under the towel I used for my pillow.
"Good morning." I lifted the blanket. Chessec curled tighter into a ball in the middle of my chest. "Time to get up." I rolled her off of me and stood up. The bitter cold encouraged movement. She opened one eye. "We need to get moving. The ranger opens the park by eight, and I don't want him to see where I drove around the gate."
"OK. I hate to waste perfect sleeping weather." She stretched. "Oh, It's a beautiful morning. Crisp."
"And that's how I can always tell you and Marie apart. She would be telling me it was too cold," I commented as I forced my stiff pants on. I waved my arms to restore circulation.
"Probably not anymore. She's got the same fur coat I do, now." She folded up the blanket and started to repack the jeep while I finished dressing. She threw on a light vest. We expected to use her 'dog' disguise all day today, so she was dressed lightly. "What's for breakfast?"
"Breakfast biscuit at Mickey D's in Boise City, Oklahoma. Twenty miles down the road. Once we get back on the road, that is." We were camped illegally on the short-grass prairie, half a mile from pavement.
"Yum. How about we get a prairie dog, instead?" We both climbed into the jeep and drove off.
"No time. We have a lot of miles to cover. I want to be home tonight. If you want something freshly dead, you can call Marie from a rest area pay phone when we get to Topeka. I'm sure she'd catch it for you."
Driving across Kansas. 'nuff said. We made it home after ten hours of sheer boredom.
Marie sensed Chessec's proximity as we pulled into the driveway, so she ran out to greet us both. While I did a group hug number with the two of them, Hobo ran excitedly around our feet. It was probably cruel to leave him outside, while the girls and I went in the house and became reacquainted, all thoughts of supper forgotten. Afterwards, we were pleasantly tired and slept soundly together for hours. I got up near dawn and went out on the porch with him. He looked up reproachfully from the doormat.
"I know. I know. I'm a pig. If you'd been inside, you'd have been forced to watch. Look, to make it up, I brought you a biscuit." He grudgingly accepted the treat. "And what have you been doing all night?" I admired the dead field mouse on the porch next to us. "Yes, It's a very nice mouse. No, I don't want it, and I really don't want to know if one of them does." It was gone when I came outside again. I like to think Marie threw it away when she got up.
2.42 First and Second Dog Watch
Mitzep:
The two of them are going to kill me. That's all there is to it. One day, somebody will move too fast, or pounce too hard, and my spine will snap and I'll be dead. Oh, Jena will bawl her eyes out, to be sure; and H'rall-hrk will mist up with that puzzled, almost-understanding-but-not-quite expression of hers, but it will be too late. I'm just not strong or durable enough.
When it was just H'rall-hrk, just a casual, physical thing, I felt I could at least end the relationship before I got hurt too badly. That was even her people's way. Tight, intense initial bonding, which eventually settles out into close, comfortable affection. Humans, on the other hand, Marie says they form attachments even stronger than we do. At first, with Jena, I could see that. The old joke phrase about wolves: 'they mate for life.' She was falling hard for me, and, to be honest, I felt a lot of the same urges.
Now that she's changed, Jena is no longer one or the other. Her intensity and ranges of emotions are still adjusting. I think she will end up someplace in between her old self and her now-sister. H'rall-hrk is not unchanged either. It's clear that she is filtering some of Jena's thoughts all the time, and picking up emotional cues from her that she didn't before express. All of which is certainly complicating my own life.
Which brings me to the present. Inertia, the last, best decision tool. Do nothing, and you do nothing wrong. Except I recognize that fallacy, and with it the end of pretending not to be awake. My bladder informs me it is time to get up NOW, and so I climb across one of the sleeping ladies' (Which one? Is it important?) sprawled torso, and go into the bathroom to start another day.
The captain holds an all-hands meeting to bring everybody up to speed, and then dismisses the off-watch crew. Lossp goes to the gym, and H'rall-hrk and Jena go back to bed. Being cats, I'm sure they will not have any trouble sleeping. The captain begins his morning inspection rounds, and I draw bridge watch. The doctor follows me into Navigation.
"You look a bit ragged, like you didn't get enough sleep. Care to talk?" She eyes me appraisingly. When she has that particular expression, it reminds me way too much of my mother.
"Not about that. I've been thinking, but I'm not ready to share." I speak slowly, thoughtfully, replaying my own mental discussions. She nods and settles on the extra cushion.
"Fair enough. Let me tell you something about Jena, though." She raises a paw to forestall a reply. "At some point, fairly soon, she's going to realize that she has lost everything she had on Earth, and that she will possibly never be able to lead a normal life again. That will be one shock. When we go home, she will get another one almost as bad."
"What's that?"
"We in the Corps don't think about it, but remember, she's a cat. You know how the public at large will treat her. And worse, she has no technical skills. We at best tolerate educated specialists like H'rall-hrk. With the near-instinctive fear people will have, they will treat her as not much better than a savage, a primitive like the first M'raeenn we brought to D'yimyi."
"But surely the Corp's-"
"I mean when she's not on duty. I'm sure we will find a job for her, maybe even send her to school. But what will she do the rest of her time?"
"I-" She cut me off again.
"You won't have time. You will be back in space doing your own job, and she will be alone." She widened her mouth and smiled. "Hey! I just want you to start thinking about it now. I plan to. And I know the whole crew will. We're smarter than average, all the tests prove it! We can work something out!" She patted my arm and left the cabin.
Great. Not that Plaksa doesn't give sound advice, but sometimes she scares me how much she can read from a person. And since she's talked to the crew, and I'm stuck here on the bridge for the next four hours, I expect I'll be getting visitors all day. More advice, lots of well-meaning homilies.
Time to run some checks. Life support. Green, but the CO2 scrubbers are borderline. Only to be expected on a mission this long. Power management: green. Drives: Shut down. Armaments. Wait, I see Chopic melted the secondary mirror on the laser. I ran down the checks on the minor systems. Pretty good, but not perfect. Again, we've been out a long time.
Outside, next. We're presently in lunar orbit, opposite the earth. Good time to do a radar sweep. The moon will block our signal, should anyone be looking. Short range first. Damn. The collision alarm goes off as the stupid thing suddenly discovers the moon fifty kilometers away. Reset. That's better. Now long range. Seconds between pulses. It's like tapping a cane to find things. Now shut her down, and listen for something coming back. Nothing close, but a few faint returns that are probably rocks. Fifteen minutes until earthrise.
The captain comes onto the bridge. "Anything?" Chopic checks the console.
"All quiet, sir. Just about to use the telescope." He nodded, sitting down to write up the log. I warmed up the video monitor and set the optics on a slow sweep ahead in our orbit. It's field of view included the jagged mountains on the lunar horizon. Lots of nothing. Still more entertaining than hanging around the L-5 point. Maybe I'll see tranquillity base on this pass.
"Mitzep, I wanted to talk to you about-"
I interrupted him. "The doctor was just here to talk to me about Jena-"
He continued. "I was about to say, -the mission. I know she came to see you. She talked to me first. You aren't the first young officer to cause difficulties because he couldn't control his, let's say, instincts. That's done, and we're probably better off with your lover as a lioness up here, rather than a human down there. Now, what about the rest of the humans. Do you think we can still succeed in establishing peaceful relations after all this?"
"I don't know. Dave could probably tell us more."
"I know that. I plan to discuss it with him by radio tonight. I'm looking for another viewpoint. With Chessec down on the planet, you have the most experience with humans as anyone."
"There is another person you could ask. Jena. She did spend most of her life as one."
"I didn't think of that. I'll talk to her when she wakes up. Meanwhile, I've got you. What do you think?"
"I don't know. None of the humans I observed were in decision-making positions. All seemed friendly, but of course, none of them knew who I was. If the American government is hostile to us, maybe we could approach another one?"
"Valid point. Shame we only learned to speak English. Although I understand a scholar is training to be a Chinese-linguist at the University. Perhaps we could bring him next trip. Damn Chessec! I really need her up here." More discussion. The Captain wasn't listening, just wanted another person in the room so he wasn't talking to himself. Finally, he relieved me for an hour to go back to check out the shuttle.
I was buried in an access hatch, running a diagnostic, when H'rall-hrk came by to talk. As usual, I didn't hear her coming. How a cat that big can be so quiet, I don't know. She waited until I disentangled myself from the test system's wiring harness, then sat down next to me on the shuttle bay floor.
"You should calm down. You'll get hurt jumping like that."
"Too late," I said rubbing my ear. I pointed to the bandage on her arm. "What did the doctor say about your own injury?"
"Is nothing. She said not to put my weight on it, walk on hind legs for a week, and it will heal fine. But I did not come to talk about me." She looked serious. "Jena-sister. Plaksa came to see me. Today."
"I also." Speaking with H'rall-hrk very much does bad things to your sentence structure. "I mean, Doctor Plaksa came to see me too. I love Jena, you know that."
"Yes. Hrk clan will not recognize her except within the D'yimyi Treaty rules. She will have to stay off M'raeenn, unless she can win a challenge-place. She is too soft to fight one, now. I do not know if she could even kill."
" I will do anything to help her."
"You are a good fox. That was another good reason I choose you on this ship."
"I'm touched." And I was.
"Main reason was Chopic will not do it, of course. You are best number two." Always nice to be appreciated. She licked the top of my head as she stood to leave, making the fur between my ears stand up on end. "Still, you are best choice for Jena-sister. I share."
At least you know where you stand with the M'raeenn. So much easier to read than my own kind. I smoothed down my fur and returned to the bridge to relieve the captain.
End of shift, at last. I briefed Lossp when he came in, and went down to my cabin for a shower and change of clothes before supper. Standing under the hot running water, two paws are placed on my shoulders.
"Eep!" Momentarily startled, but a strong scent of lioness narrows the possible list of owners.
"Gotcha! Let me use that soap." Jena leans over me and giggles, then purrs, something more felt through the skin than heard. My shower is barely taller than I am. I'm amazed she even fit through the curtain. Even more unbelievably, some actual cleaning did subsequently take place.
Later, a trail of damp towels led into my cabin to the bunk, where we sat and held each other and talked.
"I've been getting a steady stream of good advice, ever since I woke up. Don't you start, too."
"Well, you are facing a rough time."
"I can see! I'm three hundred percent better off than I was before. Heck, I'm tempted to go back to earth and hire a good lawyer to get my art work returned and my bank accounts back! Copyright doesn't just apply to humans, after all. Let the MIB's deal with that."
"I don't know quite what you said just now, but there are going to be complications…" She squeezed me, cutting off my breath.
"Hush! I know that. I'm just talking to cover my fears. I'm not ready for any new crisis yet, I barely know who or what I am." I dug in my claws to make her release. She looked down and jerked her arms from around my neck, surprised she had pulled me completely off the bed onto her lap. "Mitzep! I'm sorry. Are you all right?" She looked guilty.
Deep breath. "You just got excited. You didn't break anything." I took advantage of my position to tuck my head into her neck. "I think you're going to do fine."
2.43 Hash, Biscuits and Gravy with Green Tomatoes
Marie:
The two of them arrived home about sunset. We greeted each other with enthusiasm, but I could tell from Dave's occasional long stare off into the middle distance that something wasn't right. I didn't say anything directly to him about it, just made them both welcome. Next morning, I waited until Dave left for work, then cornered Chessec. Not hostile, mind you, just concerned. I asked her what was wrong.
"Dave and you seem a little bit quiet since you came back. I know he's not going to say anything. What about you?"
She put down the blanket she was stripping off the bed, and was still for a moment. Then she told me what had happened of the trip. "I think he realized that what we're doing could get somebody hurt, somebody besides himself. Several soldiers were killed, I'm sure. While that bothered him, there was something else, too. I'm not sure I understand exactly what."
"I do. I thought it was something like that. Tell me, did he stick close to you, touch you a lot more than usual after the rescue?" She flattened her ears, although she knew that I already knew how close they had been.
"Yes."
"We went through this before we got married, right after he got back from the Desert. Followed me around, treated me like I was made out of glass. He's just remembering he's not invulnerable, and that he has family. If I were you, I'd leave him to it, but tell him off sharply enough if it starts to bug you."
"Oh, he's not too bad."
"I know. But when he tries to be more careful, you have to watch out, because sometimes he overreacts. He'll swat a gnat with a hammer by mistake. Just to make sure, you understand."
"Well, those gnats in the van needed a hammer!" She grinned, and her ears were part-way back up.
"Probably so. Anyway, to change the subject, Why don't you strip the bed, and meet me in the laundry room?"
We settled back into our routine for a few days. While Dave earned some money and, almost as important, accrued more vacation hours, Chessec and I worked on our list of human contacts. We spent a lot of effort on firming up our growing network of UFO enthusiasts (scores), our actual alien contactees (about a dozen), and doing background checks on our possible scholarship student list. It was all done through anonymous re-mailers, pay phones and other cut-outs. I learned to use (and spell) steganography to hide messages in image files. I learned a lot more than I wanted to about USENET porn newsgroups, as they are the perfect place to hide them. Some background checks were contracted anonymously to private investigators, and some were done by Dave or Chris on the weekends.
While I grew to know a widening circle of friends electronically, I hadn't actually met a human being face-to-face since the convention. Chessec was frustrated too. She wanted to meet informally with somebody in the government, to see what could be accomplished there. Finally, we both discussed it, and met Dave at the door when he got home that night.
"We want to meet some people." Chessec stated before he could open his mouth.
"Somebody local, somebody I can visit at the house if you are out of town." I continued.
"Somebody in your government, too."
"Not yet, soon." He threw up his hands and walked inside the house. We talked about it during supper, trying to think who we could contact. We decided against either of our families, since my news of my 'death' had been hard enough on my parents. They didn't need more stress at their age. We thought about the neighbors, and decided we didn't want anyone too close by. Then I had an inspiration; a group that we could meet with regularly, who would never be believed if they told anyone. I named them to Dave.
"That's it! He laughed. "Zero credibility, combined with good company. Plus, I know where we could meet in public and not attract any attention."
I hadn't thought about the 'where' part. "OK, where?"
"Sean's Pub. In the deep cellar." I considered it and agreed. "As long as those folk singers aren't down there." Meanwhile, Chessec had lost the thread of the conversation.
"I don't understand. Who are these people? Will I meet any of your politicians?"
"Maybe as we get closer to election time. You'll see."
Dave made the arrangements, since I was still 'dead'. He quickly persuaded them to reschedule their regular weekly meeting from Saturday to Sunday afternoon, and reserved a room afterwards at Sean's.
I better explain a bit. For years, Dave and I belonged to a group called the Hash House Harriers, though of course we hadn't attended lately. Their motto "a drinking club with a running problem" pretty well sums up their bylaws, philosophy and creed. A worldwide disorganization, with hundreds of local chapters, or hashes, they were not only ripe for subversion, they were already subversive. The local hash was a small, tightly knit bunch, either friends, or friends of friends. And anyone who would believe a bunch of crazy drunkards (I use the term with affection) who said they saw a talking fox was by definition crazy.
And so we went. Dave drove us to the start point, and Chessec and I did our 'dog' act while the hashers arrived and got ready. The theme for the that afternoon was a 'red dress' run, with everyone, Dave included, wearing red prom dresses over their running clothes (or over nothing, as the case may be). The two of us were made much of, and were pretty thoroughly petted and rubbed. The hares took off to mark the trail, and after they had built up a head start, us 'hounds' followed after. Ah, irony. The trail was mostly through our local park, and the only time we came in sight of non-hashers was when we ran through a public picnic area, and again toward the end, as we ran through town to Sean's back entrance. Chessec or I could easily have caught the hares, as the two marathoners were at a disadvantage in a short four mile event, but staying in character, we kept back with Dave and the pack.
Once at the bar, we stayed low and dashed in while the hash kept the bartender busy, (they had sneaked pets in before) and ran down to the lower cellar. Sean's place (yes, it is owned by himself), is a wonderful Irish pub, consisting of three levels of stone cellars left behind when an old brewery was demolished. The deepest, where we had our party, is over eighty feet beneath the streets above. The bar is in the upper cellar, and the hash soon joined us with numerous pitchers of beer and snacks.
I will not name any names, nor describe exactly what went on during the next few hours. I will note that our hash is coed, and that while we have been described by more intense hashers as "PG rated, older than most," bear in mind this is a relative rating. Nevertheless, much beer was consumed, many off-color songs sung ("I used to work in Chicago…"), and the group was well primed when Dave finally proposed the both of us as members. As was the custom, the assembled hash called out "Speech!" So I climbed up on a table, stood my hind legs, and gave one.
"My sister and I have traveled many miles…"
"Booriing!" That from my own husband! He set the tone, and the more sloshed among them sustained it.
"…and I can't help but notice that her mug is empty!" I pointed at Chessec, who looked over at me startled.
"Make 'em do a down-down!" Dave wasn't helping matters, was my first thought, but it did break the ice, and several others took up the chant.
"Who seconds their membership?" The hash mistress strove to regain order. Several others got into the spirit and said, "Aye!" I watched carefully, but nobody was reacting badly. We were approved by acclamation and beers wee thrust into our paws. Let me say that body mass has a direct relationship to how much a beer affects you. I deliberately managed to spill most of mine.
After our moment of fame, the group was remarkably accepting. Maybe the hash was just immune to surprise; after all, they were all adult men and women who had just run wearing red prom dresses.
We stayed for about two more hours. I talked quietly to three hashers who had been close friends before my accident, and explained what had happened. I introduced Chessec, and we made plans to get together another day. Dave brought another woman I knew slightly less well, and said she had a request.
"You remember Colleen from last year? She doesn't usually hash after September, because she belongs to another club." He paused, grinning, as he always does when building up for a really bad joke. I cringed. "She's a member of the hunt, and she would like to ask a favor."
"David, I am not going to be chased by a bunch of beagles and horses and drunks! I don't care if they don't kill the fox, I'm disgusted you would even consider it!" Chessec's ears pricked when she heard me say 'kill the fox'. Dave laughed, and Colleen looked embarrassed and spoke before he did.
"Oh, no! What I was wondering is.. There are these great old prints of foxes wearing riding coats and boots, and I think it would be really great if you would pose…" She succumbed to embarrassment about this point.
I thought for a few moments. "That might be interesting." We agreed to talk another time. The crew was getting a little rowdy by this point, and Chessec was looking worried as a few of the wilder boys were trying to make up a verse about foxes' sexual habits. Fortunately, about this time Sean dropped in to tell us to keep out voices down, as we were disturbing the tourists. He was a bit surprised to be introduced to Chessec and myself, but I guess one can't be the owner of an Irish pub for too long without seeing a few strange sights. Since we all were locals, and many of the hash were extremely regular customers, he would probably have forgiven anything short of a human sacrifice. In fact, he and his wife, the restaurant manger, came in and joined for coffee us after closing.
Sunday came with absolute silence in our house. By ten, Dave was still unconscious under a blanket where I had left him on the couch, while Chessec was a tight ball wrapped around one of the pillows. Last night I switched to soft drinks after that first mug of beer, and as a result, was the sole sober person in the place. I padded around the kitchen, brewing coffee and making biscuits and gravy. Then I went outside onto the deck and read the paper while waiting for the dead to return to life. Hobo joined me.
He begged, but I was firm. "No, you don't get any sausage." That was the only interruption I had that morning.
Captain Chopic called at noon, while I was out in the garden bringing in my last crop of tomatoes. (Why, I don't know. Pure habit. Dave won't eat them unless I hide them in his food, and my changed tastes certainly don't run to more than one tomato per week.) I could hear Dave and Chessec talking to him through the open window, and could feel Chessec's steadily growing anger. Soon, they came outside onto the deck, Dave trying to placate her. I peeled off my oversize gardening gloves and joined them. Dave was helping himself to a drink from the iced tea pitcher on the table. He offered us each a glass.
"Here, Chessec. Don't fuss about it. We can change his mind." She was still steaming.
I asked casually, "What's this all about, guys? Anything I can do?"
Chessec ground out each word. "It's Chopic. The ship needs to go home to resupply. Says it's too dangerous here, wants to pull us back home for a few months until things calm down. He said Mitzep will come pick us up tonight." She picked up and unconsciously held one of my green tomatoes, scoring the skin repeatedly with a clawtip.
Dave continued, "I told him we should be safe here, but he wants to get a ruling from the high commission, wants us back on D'yimyi to explain things."
"That's ridiculous! He's just passing the buck. Get him to wait a month or two, let's see if anything shows up in the papers." I snatched my vegetable basket off the table and put it on the floor, sacrificing Chessec's victim as a stress reliever for her. I asked her, "What authority does he have over you down here?"
"Technically he has no authority over what I do on the surface. I'm the first contact specialist. Practically…, without me to speak in front of the commission, his testimony would be the deciding factor. But If we go back, it will be several weeks before we can return in any case. And if they agree with him, we might not come back."
"What if you went and we stayed?" An idea was tickling my tongue, but not fully formed.
"He might accept that. But the commission could still cancel the Earth contact mission. And then where would you be?"
I had it. But first, a diversion. "Dave could go…"
Nibble. Dave takes the bait! "What would you two do if I was gone? You can barely drive, and neither of you can pass for human." He seemed indignant I had even thought of it. Sometimes I swear he thinks I'm helpless, forgetting I managed just fine without him for hmmhrrm years. Time to reel him in.
"I'll go to D'yimyi. That way, she's still here on the mission, and you can keep an eye out for her."
"They'd never accept that." Chessec said uncertainly. I could see the first glimmer of understanding. "But then, we don't have to tell Chopic, not until too late."
"Exactly! And with you here, they have to come back again." Dave shut up. He has learned one thing in the year since Chessec joined us. He's no match for two of us at once. He conceded, by changing the subject. "Then we'd better figure out what we're going to do when the shuttle gets here."
2.44 Measuring Signal Strength
Chessec:
"Marie, I know how to change a vacuum cleaner bag!" My 'sister' was starting to get antsy about leaving Earth, and was obsessing on leaving me instructions for common household tasks.
"Yes, but there's a trick to this one." I projected calm thoughts.
"OK, show me how to do it, dear." Mentally counting down from one hundred. She started to reach for the machine, then got the tone of my thoughts. She grabbed my paw instead.
"Sorry, Chessec. You know I'm…well, you know." I patted her paw with my other one.
"I do. Just relax. I love you, Dave loves you. We'll both be thinking about you. You even might be able to hear my thoughts clear across the galaxy, who knows. Just calm down. You're bags are already packed, your overnight bag is in the hall. Tonight is your night. We both want you to be happy, and we'll miss you."
"I'm all right. But who knows how long I'll be away. They might not even let me come back. Besides, I haven't been separated from him for more than a month since we were married, no, really since we were dating, during the war. And he'll have you here, but not me."
"You know that wherever one of us is, we both are. You are the first wife, I'm the second. I accept that." She had centered herself by this time, worked her way through her anxiety attack. I changed the subject.
"Dave will be back from town in two hours. Do you want him by yourself this evening? I can make myself scarce, if you would like."
"No. We'll stay together as long as we can. I might want a few minutes alone with him before Mitzep shows up tomorrow to get me, though."
The emotional tide had ebbed, and we were left on the tidal flats of having too much time left to say goodbye. The two of us reviewed what she would say to the Commission when she got back, and what to say to my family. After all, politics would decide the fate of the Earth mission, and what better political weapon than nepotism? I knew my adopted mother Amkro supported the mission, and would work hard behind the scenes to ensure a rapid turnaround of the ship. And I was confident they would come back, especially once Chopic realized he had the wrong vixen.
The shuttle landed in our neighbor's freshly harvested corn stubble at 2:15 AM. I won't recount the details of our goodbye scene, nor the argument between Mitzep and Dave when he found out that only "I" was going. Anyone who's ever said goodbye to family at a bus or train station has seen all of the histrionics we went through. Dave and I finally stood on the porch and waved as the shuttle left with Marie. Then we shut off the porch light, and went to bed.
Next morning, Dave went back to work. I found myself alone at the house with the dog. He's good company, mind you, but I needed something else to do. Marie had cleaned everything that even conceivably needed cleaning yesterday, so that was not an option. So I deliberately put a dirty glass in the sink without washing it. Possibly marking my territory. Another walk around the house, and then upstairs to the office.
I fired up Dave's old computer, signed onto our account and downloaded the message traffic. A dozen email messages, about two hundred postings. About par for a long weekend. I went offline and started sorting. Dumping the spam first, then the off-topic threads. Marked all the ones that described UFO events in places we'd actually been. A message from Chris, which I read and then forwarded to Dave at the office. Three from members of our contact groups, one in Colorado Springs, another in Peoria, and one Huntsville. The message from the Springs was an update of news clippings about the shuttle landing and all the recent military activity. I thanked everybody who had written, and wished them a happy… What was that holiday, anyway? Check the calendar. Ah, Halloween! Dave had said I might like that one. I couldn't remember why, so I set aside my work, and went on the web.
What a neat concept. Wearing disguises and frightening similarly disguised, sugar overdosed children. I couldn't see this one catching on back home. Besides, kids still smell the same, especially sweating in a mask. It wouldn't be any challenge knowing who they belonged to. Then I saw what the adults did after the kids were in bed. A costume party. Hmmm. I had liked the Convention. I decided this bore further investigation.
Another email arrived while I was browsing. The "From" line wasn't familiar, but the "To" line was an address Dave used for correspondence about his UFO book. Interesting. Someone named Chuck Hansen wanted to talk to Dave about his opinion on the Colorado sightings. That might prove problematic, since the last time we had seen Mr. Hansen was last week; when Dave had pointed a machine pistol at his face while Jena wrapped him in duct tape. I wondered if he would recognize him if they met again. I forwarded the message to Dave at work.
By mid-afternoon, I was getting cabin fever. I stripped out of my clothes and went outside into the yard to play with Hobo. He was quite willing, and we took turns chasing each other through the underbrush along the creek behind the house. Every once in a while, he forgot that I was family, and not wild game like his nose told him. Still, I'm bigger than him, and a strategically placed nip always gets the message across. Plenty of time to wear him out, plus take a nice relaxing bath to reduce the bruising before Dave came home. I probed him about his day, using the "casual questions, not interrogation" technique Marie had recommended.
"So, did you have a nice day?"
"Business is good! War, pestilence, disease or famine on five out of six continents today, plenty of work for the whole office. If those Australians would just get their act together and have a small war, I could hire an assistant." He was grinning while he slipped off his shoes and socks next to the recliner. "On the down side, our fax is broke, and the guy I was helping doesn't have an email account. So, since he won't take my word over the phone that a GSP-ferry holds fifty tons, he'll just have to wait for same information by surface mail. New digital army, ha! These guys just need to learn how to read a book or two." Extending the footrest, he interlaced his fingers behind his head and laid back. "Nah, nothing special at work. Spent more time on that message you sent me."
"What are you going to say to Mr. Hansen? Do you think he suspects anything, or is it just a coincidence?"
"Too dangerous to guess. I arranged a meeting with him Saturday, someplace that I can get away from without being trapped. If it is a trap, we would have to abandon the house, anyway. Like this, we at least pick where and when."
"Could they be watching the house right now?"
"If they have enough resources, sure. I drove the back road in, so nobody was within sight that I could see."
"I want to be with you when you meet him. I need to know you're safe."
"That's too risky."
"Dave, if you get arrested, there's no sense me hiding out in the woods, eating squirrels for the rest of my life. We're going together!" I bared my teeth, and stared him in the eye. He blinked first.
"OK, you're right. Here's what we'll do…"
We talked through his plan during supper, eating microwave chicken pot pies (yum!) over a map spread on the table. Then (shock and surprise) we watched television until 10:30 PM.
"Dave." I shut off the TV with the remote.
"Yes, Chessec?"
"I can't help but notice you haven't done much more than give me a quick hug or two since Marie left. Is something wrong?"
"No, nothing. It's just, well I've been married a long time. I can usually pick up 'signals' from her that tell me she's in the mood. I guess I haven't been looking hard enough for your own 'signals'."
"But we've been together before, alone, even. In fact most recently less than a week ago."
"Finding a vixen laying on your chest was a pretty obvious signal."
"Dave." I crooked a claw-tipped finger at him. "This is a signal."
"Oh."
Early next morning, I woke out of a sound sleep. I sat up. Looking around the room, nothing was obviously wrong, but I felt different. I was about to wake Dave, but then I identified it: For the first time in almost a year, I was alone inside my own head. Suddenly, Marie's telepathic presence, always there, sometime stronger, sometimes weaker; but always there, was absent. I felt a moment of fear that something had happened to her. Then I realized that it was about time for the ship to make the jump through lightspeed. It appeared there was a limit to telepathy. We would find out, anyway, when they reached D'yimyi.
I curled back against Dave's side.
2.45 Maskirovka
Chuck:
Cindy and I were eating lunch together in the park. Since last month's events, we found ourselves out here more often. I couldn't prove it, but I was sure the office was now bugged, and this was a natural response. Plus, given our new charter, neither of us could build up too much enthusiasm for our work. Especially Cindy. I mean, finding the alien was pretty much the culmination of her life's ambition, the holy grail of all her ambitions. It was a severe shock to be directed, under penalty of confinement to a mental institution, to not only forget it ever happened, but to be told to actively work to discredit other UFO researchers. She was alternately livid, angry and argumentative, and mostly depressed. Today, though, she was much too cheerful, and when I asked her why, just asked me if I wanted to go out to eat.
"Do you think that squirrel is spying on us?" She flipped him a French fry.
"Yeah. See that tiny camera around his neck? Okay, Ms. Sunshine, spill it. What's got you so happy? Get a better job offer?" The squirrel decided he didn't need the cholesterol, and ran off. Cindy reached into her bag and pulled out a book.
"I was working on some of my notes when I found something you might find interesting." She handed me the book. I examined the cover.
"So, it's another UFO book. You think this guy's ever seen the real stuff?"
"Flip it over." The author's photo was on the back of the dust jacket. A familiar face.
"Christ! The guy with those giant cats who rescued our alien fox." I flipped to the inside to read the bio sketch.
"Not only that, you've met him. At that convention here in town."
"Don't tell me he's local." She shook her head, and handed me a slip of paper.
"His email address. Now all you have to do is decide what you're going to do with it."
That was the dilemma. If we passed it on to our superiors, we stood an even chance of waking up in a rubber room for violating our new charter. Not odds I cared to chance. On the other hand, here was the proof we had been looking for, the evidence that could rehabilitate us. On the third (?!!) hand, we could contact him on our own, and risk a meeting with somebody who we knew was armed and dangerous. To say nothing of the cats. I decided I wanted to go for it, but I asked her first. She was the one with a family.
"What do you want to do? Do you think we ought to talk to him privately?"
"I think you ought to, while I watch you from a safe distance." That's why I like Cindy. Great minds think alike.
We made contact and set up a meet, ostensibly to discuss his book and some more recent sightings. He agreed to meet me at a small diner about fifteen minutes from the Kansas City airport. Cindy flew in on an earlier flight, rented a car and familiarized herself with the area. I arrived on time, rented my own car and drove to the meeting. There was no sign of any surveillance, even when I pretended to get lost leaving the airport. I hoped she would pick up anybody I missed.
The diner was a typical small-town place of a type I'd forgotten existed anymore, across the street from the courthouse. The lunch crowd was a cross section of people with business with the county government: lawyers, real estate brokers, and a fair number of law enforcement types. I hoped that ruled out gunfire. I could not see Cindy, but I spotted my gunman/author sitting in a booth. He waved me over. We sat across from each other, gave introductions, then made some polite small talk until the waitress left. They we looked at each other. I decided to break the impasse.
"We didn't have much time to talk last time we met, and I was wondering if you were willing to have a more sedate discussion today." He made a small grin.
"That depends. Do you have any friends with you, say, anybody from that last group you were with? I assumed he was referring to the still-unidentified government agency thugs that had removed Cindy and I from our alien contact investigation. "I would hate to say anything that might tend to incriminate me where I might be overheard or interrupted. And just so you know, I'm expected to be seen leaving here by someone."
"No, no interruptions." I decided not to mention Cindy, who I hoped was outside. "I'm here on my own nickel. I want to know more about what happened last month, the 'other' side if you will, and I figured you might be able to steer me in the right direction." He considered.
"Fair enough. We could use an ear in your camp. Would you mind going for a drive with me? It won't take more than an hour." I agreed. We paid our bills, then went outside and got into his jeep. He drove out onto the highway, then turned off onto a gravel road in the country after a few miles. We made a few turns, and continued over a series of bare hills covered with pasture and harvested row crops. Finally, he slowed and turned into a side track that led to a rough barn. No other signs of habitation were visible, and I was beginning to be glad of the Walther PPK in my jacket's pocket.
He drove completely around the barn and parked on the far side, facing back the direction we had come. He seemed calm, and had not made any move for a weapon, so I waited.
"Mr. Hansen, there's a car coming up behind us, which might be following you. I plan to sit here until it passes, then we'll decide whether it really is." We sat in silence. After two minutes, Cindy's rental drove past. He remarked, "It appears Ms. Kruchensky has gotten lost. Shall we go back to town?"
"Wait. Yes, that's her. But there isn't anyone else. We really haven't told anybody. We only want to talk to Chessec again without any interference, on anybody's part."
"I'm prepared to consider your request. I might be able to get you in touch with her. Let's just sit here some more until your partner reaches the dead end and turns around. If nobody else shows up, we'll go on." After another two minutes, my cell phone rang. It was Cindy.
"Chuck? Are you OK? Can you speak freely?" I glanced over at Dave, who gestured affirmative.
"Yeah, go ahead. We're just sitting here, waiting for you to call. Where are you?"
"I'm at a locked gate, a dead end." Dave held up a finger, interrupting me.
"Just tell her to park the car there, climb over the gate and walk on up to the top of that hill. Somebody will guide her from there." I relayed the message and she hung up. He picked a small radio from behind the sun visor and repeated the same message to someone else, who just clicked the mike twice in response. Putting the jeep in gear, he drove back onto the road, turning back the way we had come. Taking another side road we bypassed on the way in, we arrived at a farmhouse.
I sat on the front porch, where he offered me a beer from a cooler. We said little, just admired the late fall colors and wildlife. Most of a beer later, Cindy arrived, led by Chessec, the fox. They were deep in conversation, and seemed to be getting along well. She pulled a soda out of the cooler, offering a beverage to Cindy. Everybody settled into chairs, and Cindy slipped off her flats.
"Glad I didn't wear heels today." I looked at her feet, then Chessec's noticing in passing that Chessec was barefoot, with four claws on each foot. She observed me examining her, caught my eye, and winked. Curling her bushy tail over her feet, she said,
"You'll find I'm a better host than you, refreshment-wise, Mr. Hansen. I try to leave a good impression on my guests."
"You bit me, last time. I' don't want any more impressions like that, thank you. By the way, where are the two lions today?" The four of us seemed to be alone, but I wanted to check. Dave answered.
"They were a special assault team we brought in. You understand, we don't like to operate that way. We'd rather talk."
"Chessec's been explaining what they want, and it's basically what she said while we had her captive. They're basically looking for a sympathetic ear in the government."
"So am I." I explained our present status. Dave seemed disgusted, but resigned. Chessec was exasperated.
"So you don't even bother to investigate aliens anymore? How short-sighted is that?"
"No, the distinction is, WE don't investigate them, and we are supposed to discredit anyone else who does. We've been told pretty clearly, that the actual work is someone else's job. We're just cover." Chessec thought for a minute, head tilted.
"OK, why are you here, then. Why not the 'spooks,' or the 'MIBs,' or whoever they are? You are both taking a risk, if what you say is true."
"Because we think this is too important not to follow through on," Cindy answered emphatically. "Because we don't want the first contact between our two peoples to end in some bureaucratic disaster. Well, that's my reason, anyway." She blushed a bit at her outburst of enthusiasm.
"Wait a minute, I ought to get credit for the first contact," Dave interjected.
Chessec retorted, "No, Dave, you're just the first 'intimate' contact. A 'close encounter of the fifth or sixth kind,' as it where. She giggled, a strange half-bark noise.
"Do we want to know any more detail?" I asked rhetorically. Dave shook his head and mouthed, "No"
The ice broken, we sat together and conspired a while. Chessec wanted to meet our 'leaders' in a safe, non-confrontational setting, we wanted to prove that 'something was out there,' without being arrested. By sunset, we had the outlines of a plan and a rough timetable. After that, but before Cindy drove me back to town, Chessec cooked us supper, chicken in what she assured us was her native style.
To me, it just tasted undercooked.
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