“I don’t deserve it. I simply fell in love with her.”
“And she with you. Nature did the rest. That is what every person ultimately needs: to love and be loved. Now she understands, and she will enable her people to understand similarly, and our relationship will be a success. Because of you.”
Brom spread his hands. “All I want is to be with her.”
“With the full knowledge of her nature.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Now if we can just get the rest of the world to echo that sentiment.” Potus looked around. “I will leave you to yourselves now. I suggest you sleep. It’s a long flight. We don’t have stasis here, yet.” He got up and departed.
“He’s nice,” Aliena said. “And he’s right about you, Brom. Without you I would be a failure.”
“Without you I would be an empty husk,” he told her.
“Let’s go to our room now.” For they had been assigned a private bedroom. It was some plane.
In the morning, by the clock, as night and day became meaningless on such a flight, they had a very nice catered breakfast. There were entertainments aboard, and the president was a genial host, acting as if he had nothing on his mind other than pleasing them. Brom realized that it was just possible that was true; Aliena was surpassingly important to the political and economic realms. More likely it was fascination; Aliena made no secret of her nature, here, yet still seemed completely human and feminine. It was also possible that Potus appreciated this break from the constant demands of his office.
In the afternoon they landed in Australia, and a limo whisked them to the masked factory. It looked completely ordinary, until they got into the alien research section, which was almost hermetically sealed from the outside world. Here they came at last to the Stasis Project, which looked pretty much like an electronic center, with myriad screens and indicators.
A harried official greeted them. “We are at our wits end. The indications are correct, until we turn it on. Then they veer off. We frankly don’t know what to do. We’ve never seen a device like this before. It’s like a World War One airplane technician looking at a modern jet plane and wondering what makes it fly.”
Aliena surveyed the situation with a glance. Then she walked up to stand before the main array. She whistled briefly, then sang a series of odd notes. Nothing changed. Brom found himself holding his breath.
“Turn it on,” Aliena said.
“But you never even touched it!”
She gave him a direct look that shut him up. He signaled, and power animated the device. All the dials remained positive. It had been fixed.
The technicians stared.
“I think we are done here,” Sam said, evidently suppressing a smirk.
“I don’t know what you—how you—did it, but thank you,” the technician said, plainly awed.
“It will not give you any more trouble,” Aliena assured him.
They exited the restricted section. “I’m amazed too,” Brom said.
“You forget I am an alien creature,” she said with a smile.
“I love that about you.”
Sam led the way, scouting as always for possible trouble, while Martha trailed. Brom and Aliena were in the middle.
Suddenly a door flung open and a wild-eyed man in an executive uniform burst upon them. “Devil woman!” he screamed, drawing a knife.
Brom was too surprised to react. He just stood there.
Sam whirled, a plastic pistol appearing in his hand. But Martha was closer. She stepped into the man, blocked him off, and sent him sprawling. Before he could get up factory personnel were upon him, manacling him and hauling him away. An official apologized profusely. “We thought he was safe. There was no warning he would snap.”
Sam silenced him with a gesture. “These things happen. Just keep it out of the news.”
“When may I react?” Aliena asked Brom tightly.
“Now,” he said, enfolding her. “You may cry.” New things still needed to be zeroed in. She felt the emotions but needed to know exactly how to express them in the human fashion, so as not to give away her alien nature.
“That man wanted to kill me,” she sobbed. “I feel fear.”
“You are right to feel it,” Brom said. “We all fear death. But remember, Sam and Martha are here to protect you, and they are competent in ways I am not. If Martha had not intercepted him, Sam would have shot him. You were not in much actual danger.”
“I will remember.”
“I’m sorry I did not move to stop him. I was frozen. Sam and Martha had to do it.”
“You are not trained as they are.” Now she was reassuring him.
“Thank you,” he said wryly.
“Death,” she said thoughtfully as she recovered. “We know of it, and do not like it. How does it normally occur with human beings?”
“Normally we grow old, maybe to eighty of our years if illness or accident does not bring it sooner. Then our powers fail, and finally we expire. It is usually a sad occasion.”
“The body remains?”
“It remains,” he agreed. “But dead. It will spoil soon, so it is buried or cremated—that is, burned up. There is usually a ceremony of termination, with people saying good things about the deceased, and shedding of tears of grief. Some believe that there is a spirit that continues after the mortal host expires, an immaterial ghost that hovers near where the death occurred, particularly if there is unfinished business.” He smiled. “Ghosts can be caring or malignant. As a general rule, people do not want to encounter one, and do not want to anger one.”
“Ghosts,” she repeated. “Are they similar to zombies?”
“Only very vaguely. Zombies are animated corpses; ghosts are simply wraiths.”
“Do you believe in them?”
“Only figuratively. I think they are just part of mythology. Ghost stories abound, and can be fun, but that’s all they are: stories.”
“That is interesting. Thank you. I do not wish to become a ghost.”
They walked on out of the factory and to the limo. Brom was amazed not so much by the snapping of the executive, knowing that there was no predicting such things, but by Martha. It had been no accident the way she dispatched the attacker; she had known exactly how. He had not known that she was a martial artist too, though of course it made sense. The president had called her Wallflower, and that fit; she remained mostly in the sidelines, seeming innocuous. Until she had to act.
“Thank you,” Sam murmured to Martha in the limo. “I preferred not to shoot so close to Aliena.”
“You’d have scored, but your expertise might have seemed suspicious,” she said. “It was better to block him off without gunfire.”
“Yes.” And that, it seemed, was that. It was all part of their job.
There followed the long flight back to America. The plane had evidently been refueled while they were at the factory.
“So you fixed it,” Potus said to Aliena.
“Such machines are common on my world. When they go wrong, we fix them. I knew by the description that this was a simple fix.”
“Like reconnecting a separated ignition wire,” Sam said.
“You are nevertheless a marvel,” Potus told her. “I envy Brom.”
They laughed together, but again Brom was not certain it was a joke. It reminded him how lucky he was to have Aliena.
“But we need to know how that exec caught on to Aliena’s nature,” Potus continued. “He was not part of the special project. If news is leaking out, it’s mischief.”
“Mischief,” Sam agreed grimly. “We do need to move on to the Unveiling.”
Back in America the next day they fetched Maple from her grandparents. “Love!” the little girl exclaimed, using the better part of her vocabulary.
“Love you too,” Aliena replied, hugging her.
“She’s been a little angel,” Rebecca reported.
“Thank you so much for keeping her.”
“But s
he did miss you. I hope that you can take her along on future trips.”
“We will,” Aliena agreed. “And you too.”
Brom was just glad that the excursion had been a success, and that they had safely returned. He knew that things were bound to get complicated after the Unveiling. But for now he was supremely glad to have blundered into this almost perfect life.
“Do you know, there was a report that Air Force one was seen in the area,” Johnson remarked. “Interesting coincidence.”
“Very interesting,” Brom agreed.
Johnson glanced at him, aware that there was more here than met the eye.
That was another thing. The Smythes would have to be told the rest of the story before long. The unveiling was bound to affect their lives too.
“Soon,” Sam said, as if reading his thought. “Nine months seems like very little time.”
“Very little time,” Brom agreed.
Part 3
Redemption
The word came within a month: tell them. The authorities thought it would be best if Brom and Aliena did it themselves; Sam and Martha, who had become like family friends, remained in the background.
They sat in the Smythe’s family room, with Maple, now ten months old, on Aliena’s lap. “You know that Aliena is special,” Brom said. “But not how special.”
“Was that you on Air Force One?” Johnson asked alertly.
“Yes. We met the president and went to Australia, where Aliena helped fix a piece of equipment.”
“You are that important?”
“Aliena is. The president wanted to meet her, and I think he liked her.”
“I crossed my legs,” Aliena said.
Johnson laughed. “That would do it.”
“But be more cautious in the future,” Rebecca said. “This sort of thing can be overdone.”
Brom got serious. “You know that Aliena is a brain from a person in a far place. That she is being groomed to be an envoy, a contact between her people and ours. A truly historic connection.”
“But that is not the whole of it,” Johnson said. “No place on Earth could rate such extraordinary arrangements.”
“Exactly. She is a literal alien, from another planet. Her natural body could not survive here on the surface of Earth. She has to have a human body.” He went on to tell them the rest, while Aliena nodded.
Now came the crunch. Could they still accept Aliena as a family member?
The Smiths considered. “We knew there was something,” Johnson said. “But we underestimated the reality. We thought we were prepared, but it’s a shock.”
“But we know Aliena,” Rebecca said. “Of course we still accept her.”
It was as though Aliena had been holding her breath all this time. Now she dissolved into tears of relief. It was all right.
“There will be a huge ceremony of Unveiling in about a year or fourteen months,” Brom said. “All over the world. The top officials of most of the countries will attend. The newspapers and Internet will have complete information. Everyone will know. She will abruptly be the leading celebrity of the age. There will be a backwash, as reporters seek to unravel every detail of what we call the Trillion Dollar Project. That means that your privacy will vanish. You will have security, but you will live in a virtual glass house. We can arrange to take you out of circulation if you prefer, to move to a closed community. But serious disruption is inevitable.”
Maple grew restless. Rebecca came to pick her up. “We will handle it,” she said. “As long as we can continue to be with our grandchild.”
“Oh, yes. We will depend on you to be with her and protect her from the mob. We hope you will travel with us, taking Maple in charge, so that she is not unduly exposed. There will be times when Aliena will be unable, because of the demands of her office.”
“We understand, and are gratified,” Johnson said.
Then odd things started happening. Aliena got confused about minor arrangements, forgetting to feed Maple, or to dress her properly. Rebecca was quick to pick up on these, and fixed them without saying anything. Brom noticed it too, as Aliena’ moods became unusually changeable. Sometimes she was wild for sex, then turned off once they got in bed. She went from happy to sad in minutes. She lost her place when singing a hymn at a recital, and had to be refreshed. Her memory had always been perfect before.
“I must have a cucumber sandwich,” she said. “Now.” There was no cucumber in the house; they had to scramble to get out to the grocery store to buy one. But when they got it home she dropped it on the floor, uninterested. Then she thought she saw bedbugs in her bed, and would accept no assurances that there weren’t. Martha had to clear away all the bedding and replace it, but Star remained sure there were bugs hiding just out of sight.
Then she had what had to be a hallucination. A boulder fell on her, killing her instantly, but now she had returned, as a ghost, to make sure that Brom was doing what he promised. No such thing had happened, yet she was sure of it.
“A ghost is not solid,” Brom reminded her. “It may be apparent, and can be heard, but it can’t actually do anything physical. You can.”
She considered that. “Maybe I’m a new kind of ghost.”
“Also, ghosts, being immaterial, don’t get hungry. They don’t have natural functions.”
“Oh, I have to go poop!” She ran to the bathroom, but stopped. “The bugs are there!”
He finally get her settled, concluding that she hadn’t really died; it was just a bad dream.
“Do zombies poop?” she asked.
Brom froze. But then she smiled. “I know I’m not a zombie. I was just curious.”
“We can research it in the Internet,” he said. But she had already lost interest.
Then she became paranoid. “You’re not Brom!” she said. “You’re an impostor taking his place, come to kill me.”
“Aliena--”
“Get away from me! I don’t know you!”
He simply had to retreat, unable to reassure her.
“I don’t know what’s come over her,” Brom said privately to the Smythes. “She was never like this before. Can the preparations for the Unveiling be stressing her?”
“I hope it’s not what I fear it is,” Johnson said.
“What do you think it is?”
“Rejection.”
“Nobody’s rejecting her!”
“Auto-immune rejection of the transplant brain,” he said grimly. “We have seen it before.”
“Anti-NMDA-receptor autoimmune encephalitis,” Rebecca recited with a shudder. “It destroyed Becky’s brain before we got an accurate diagnosis. That’s why her body was available.”
“Oh, shit!”
“Becky started out with little things, but it got worse. Much worse. Until she lost it. Better have Aliena competently checked, soon.”
They did, and the verdict was horrible: the body was making a full-fledged immune attack on the brain, treating it as the foreign object it was. She had to be treated immediately, and taken out of circulation for the duration.
Dr. Ching traveled all the way from China to verify the diagnosis personally. “Three things may have triggered it,” he said. “That week of missing her medications during the snafu. Her pregnancy. Her recent case of strep throat. We may never know the specific cause, but it is doubtful that we can stave it off. The attack is ferocious.”
“But in seven months she has the unveiling!” Brom protested.
“She will not be able to attend.”
“This is mischief,” Sam said. “The plans are far developed. A hundred countries and two planets are orienting on the date. It would be disastrous to try to stop it now.”
“Aliena will not be up to it,” Dr. Ching said. “We will treat the condition, but it will take or months or even years for her to recover sufficiently. There is only one way to meet that deadline.”
“We’ll have to do it,” Brom said.
“You will not like it.”
&nb
sp; “Don’t pussyfoot! What is it?”
“Another brain transplant. Put in a new starfish brain, a healthy one that will not incite the host body’s defenses. And be sure the medication is never interrupted. We have learned from this experience, and will make sure this does not happen again.”
Brom was stunned. “But—that would kill her!”
“Perhaps not. She might be transplanted back to her own body, which remains in stasis.”
“I love her! How could I be with her then?”
“You could not. You would have to be with the replacement.”
Brom, reeling, went to lie down. Aliena, concerned, joined him. Spot medication had suppressed the symptoms and made her lucid. “Are you well?” she inquired.
He let her have it: “You are suffering brain rejection by the host body.”
“Oh! I knew something was wrong. I have not been feeling well.”
“They want to replace you with another Starfish brain.”
“Yes, of course. That is the practical thing.”
“Aliena! I couldn’t stand to lose you!”
“Brom, we knew this was a risk. It’s why the Machine Doctor didn’t want me to have the baby. But the replacement could do the things I can not, and that is what is important.”
“Aliena!”
She lay down beside him and put her arms around him, comforting him. “I am sorry to bring this pain upon you. I love you and do not want to leave you. But the Unveiling must take place. This is bigger than we are.”
“Oh, Aliena!” he sobbed into her bosom. “There must be some way.”
“The replacement will be much like me,” she said. “You can learn to love her too.”
“Never!”