The face of the image though…the face is Hannah’s.
“Greetings, Falk Eckhart.” The voice is feminine but hollow. It’s similar to voices heard on navigation systems and smartphones.
I slide my finger over the trigger and try to see past the image, well enough to determine the most vulnerable spot on the creature behind it, as a sense of déjà vu creeps through me.
I’ve been in this exact position before.
“You have questions,” it says.
“A few, yeah.” I can’t hide my aggressive tone. I’m sure it doesn’t understand the concept of sarcasm anyway.
“Ask, please.”
The image’s hand rises, its palm pointing upward as the head tilts slightly to the right. I swallow hard as I aim the rifle at the space between the creature’s head and torso.
“Your high velocity projectile weapon will not impact me.”
“That isn’t you,” I respond, nodding toward the huge metal contraption.
“You are correct,” the image says. “My body is encased in a protective covering that provides suitable conditions to sustain my life. Your weapon cannot penetrate this protective covering.”
“You said that the last time.” I don’t lower the rifle. I’ve believed this thing before, and I don’t have any reason to believe it now, assuming it is one of the three I’d encountered previously.
“I am not here to harm you, Falk Eckhart.” I tense as it speaks again. “You have questions, and I am willing to answer them.”
“Are you Vole?” Images of a similar creature along with two companions fill my head. In the dim light coming from the craft, I can’t be sure if the protective suit it wears looks exactly the same as the one I had seen or not. There is a symbol over the front of it that resembles an atom, and I remember seeing the same symbol before. The first time, they were in the desert near the border between Saudi Arabia and Iraq.
“I am.”
“The image you’re projecting is different.”
“The image locks onto your psyche,” Vole says. “At the time, the person in the forefront of your mind was a young man under your command, one who had been killed in an attack shortly before our encounter. Now, your focus is on your mate.”
I narrow my eyes at Vole’s choice of words but don’t argue the semantics.
“You lied to me,” I say. “You said you were going to pass us by.”
“My exact words were, ‘I see no benefit in further observation or interaction with your species,’” Vole says. “That is the information I conveyed to my superiors.”
I’m frustrated by the inability to see the creature’s face—observe its expressions, assuming I could understand them at all. Not knowing what it really looks like unnerves me. I want to know the face of my enemy.
“You said we weren’t ideally suited for your needs,” I say, not wanting to waste any time with this thing, “but you took the women and children. Why?”
“We were in need of vast labor forces,” it says. “It was determined that the females and offspring of your species best fit those needs. They were deemed more likely to cooperate than human males. Your species is not ideal, and I did not see any benefit to its use, but we had deadlines to meet.”
“Deadlines?”
“Our supplies were running low. There wasn’t adequate time to locate another population.”
“Where are they now?”
“Relocated.”
“Relocated where?”
“The population was divided into three parts,” the image says. “The first was sent to a Sulphur-rich satellite around one of your outer gaseous planets. The other two were directed to similar environments in other star systems.”
I remember a book I had as a child, depicting various parts of the solar system—the sun, the planets, and the moons surrounding those planets. There was an artist’s representation of the sulfur snow on Io, one of the moons of Jupiter or Saturn—I can’t remember which. I have no idea why they want or need sulfur, and I don’t care at this point.
“Why kill the men? You could have taken the women and children without harming the men.”
“To create chaos,” Vole responds. “The resulting turmoil will maximize the efforts your species would need to achieve to respond to the invasion. By the time you have reorganized into a civilized society again, we will be untraceable.”
“What about the animals?”
“Sustenance for the workforce,” Vole says. “We have found that labor forces are more productive when supplied with a familiar food source.”
“What about the pets?”
There’s a pause before the image responds.
“What is ‘pets’?”
“The dogs and cats,” I say.
“Sustenance for the workforce,” Vole repeats.
My stomach flips over as I understand the creature’s meaning. I decide not to ask any more questions about that particular topic.
“You didn’t tell us that any of this was a possibility when we spoke the last time,” I say. “You said you were looking for resources, not slave labor.”
“We had no wish for conflict at that time,” Vole says. “I was not aware of the proposed strategy behind the collection of the labor force. If it is any consolation to you, I voted against the destruction of the males. My research determined that your technology was too far behind our own to develop the necessary means to transport outside your own solar system. By the time you would develop such technology, we would have moved far beyond your reach. However, my colleagues voted against my alternative plan.”
“Yeah, I feel much better about it all now.”
“I’m pleased you understand.”
No doubt—sarcasm is lost on it.
“What about the climate changes?” I ask. “No rain, high temperatures. It should be at least fifteen degrees colder now than it is.”
“I’m afraid the extraction process had some unforeseen effects on the atmosphere,” Vole says. “I’ve corrected for the problem, and it should not occur again. Eventually, the atmosphere should return to its previous condition.”
“Eventually?”
“I would estimate between thirty and forty years. The damage was minimal.”
“Minimal!” I snort and shake my head. “So, are you here to kill off the rest of us?”
There is a pause before the image responds.
“No, Falk Eckhart. I am a researcher –a scientist, not a soldier. I am merely taking my final readings of the progress of your society before I return.”
“And what have you found?”
“Your culture has behaved within the statistical deviations of my research,” it tells me. “You have formed factions that now war against each other. It will be decades before you recover enough to begin advancing your technology again. I am about to transmit my final report. Earth is deemed of no further use to us and not a threat.”
“You’re leaving, then? All of you?”
“The military forces left the surface nine days ago,” it says. “They are in orbit now but will evacuate when my report is complete. They have no reason to return.”
“So, you won’t be coming back.”
“There is no reason to do so.”
“You’re just going to leave us like this.”
“You will rebuild in time.” The head of the image tilts to the left. “It may not be in your estimated lifetime, but eventually. Already you begin to reproduce.”
I narrow my eyes. It says the words as if Hannah is prepared to have this baby—as if she really wants it or would have let her pregnancy get this far if she’d had a choice. Everything Hannah has been through is directly the result of me not giving the order to attack these things when we first saw them. Maybe we wouldn’t have been successful. Maybe they would have annihilated us in a second. They could have also then decided we weren’t worth the effort, and Hannah would be fine.
Fuck this thing.
I pull back on the trigger and hear the blast followed by
a sharp, metallic twang.
Vole doesn’t move.
“Has your curiosity been satisfied?” it asks.
“Fuck you.” I lower the rifle and take a step backward. I’m not surprised by the lack of effect, but it would have been nice if it had just fallen backward or something. I take a deep breath and then shout at it. “If you’re done, then go on! Get out! I’ve got nothing more to say to you.”
“I don’t understand your animosity, Falk Eckhart. Are you not better off than you were before?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? In what way am I better off?”
“You were alone,” it says. “You now have a companion—a function. You protect and provide for her, and you will protect and provide for her offspring. Your life has direction.”
I can’t respond. The creature’s words hit far too close to home. I’ve thought the same thing myself—more than once. I had no purpose in my life before, and now I have one. I have Hannah, and I have the need to keep her safe. It gives my existence meaning.
If none of this had happened, I would have escorted her to Washington. She would have testified and hopefully put those bastards on death row for what they had done. Afterward, I never would have seen her again.
“A pretty high cost for the sake of my happiness,” I mumble.
“But a benefit, still,” Vole says. “Do you have any further questions?”
“No.” I would have to be able to wrap my head around what I’ve heard before I could ask anything else.
“Then I shall take my leave.”
I give the thing one last stare, toss my rifle back over my shoulder, and then turn on my heel to head back into the trees.
“Falk Eckhart.”
“What?” I turn and glare at the image and the creature behind it.
“The child in the female’s body is constructed of your DNA.”
I tense, and I can’t take in a breath. Part of me thinks Vole is just saying what I want to hear, but there’s no reason for a lie. I hadn’t asked the question; it hadn’t even occurred to me.
“How do you know?”
“I analyzed the scan of the female’s incubated offspring when preparing the projected image.”
“You know for sure?” I have no real doubt of Vole’s technological accuracy; I just need to hear the words.
“You were scanned during our initial encounter. The match is certain.”
I nod. I’m not about to thank the creature for the information, but it does set me at ease.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I understand now that you considered my words at our last meeting to be intentionally inaccurate. If I give you information you consider important, you will be appeased.”
“You want to appease me?”
“I did not desire the destruction that has occurred. If you are appeased, I can add that information to my report, and the mission will be considered a successful effort.”
“A successful effort!” A single burst of laughter erupts from my throat. All of this is nothing more that some paper-pushing alien trying to make their quota and get their bonus.
I consider firing the rest of my anno into it, but I know it will do no good.
“You want to appease me?” I yell at it. “Go have your military flatten those fuckers over at Georgia Tech. Destroy the bastards who fucked over Hannah. Maybe then I’ll be appeased, and you can add it to your fucking documentation!”
“Do you have the precise coordinates?”
What?
My body chills despite the warm night air.
Is it…is it offering to…?
“Yeah,” I say. My voice is barely a whisper, and I have to clear my throat to continue. “Yeah, I do.”
I fish the city map out of my pocket as my heart begins to beat faster. I double check to make sure I’ve got it exactly right and then read the numbers off to Vole.
“I’ll dispatch the message immediately.”
“You’re serious.”
There’s a pause before it answers.
“I don’t understand. Why would I interject humor at this point?”
“Never mind.” I shake my head. “I’m just surprised you’re willing to do something for me.”
“As I stated, Falk Eckhart, I find it necessary to make amends. I was not in favor of our actions, and you impressed me at our initial encounter.”
“So, you’re going to blow them up?”
“The vessels have already been dispatched.” The creature behind the image shifts, and I hear the hum of hydraulics again as it turns its head skyward. “I must return now.”
All I can do is nod. My brain is on overload.
The image returns the nod and then shimmers and blinks before disappearing. The creature that stood behind turns and heads back to its craft, and I head back into the trees. I return to the spot where I had been smoking earlier and have another one while I try to compose myself.
I replay the conversation in my head as the orange glow rises into the sky and quickly disappears over the horizon until there is nothing left but stars.
I stare into the darkness for several minutes before I see another orange glow descending from the heavens. At first, I see one light, but as it approaches, I realize there are three of them. They come down low, circling the city once in perfect formation.
There’s a deep hum that seems to shake the air around me, and the three crafts separate, move around to form a tight circle, and then pause in the air to the west. The flash of light is so bright, I have to look away. There is an incredible explosion, and a ball of fire rises into the air.
“Holy shit!” I stare open-mouthed to the west as the ships rise back into the night sky and disappear. There is a pillar of smoke rising into the sky but nothing else.
“Falk!”
“Over here!”
I stomp out my cigarette and take off toward the shelter at a slow jog.
“Did you hear that?” Hannah stands just at the entrance, wrapped in my woobie. Her stomach is sticking out, and her hair is all over the place.
She’s incredibly beautiful.
“Yeah,” I say, “I heard it.”
“What was it?”
“Dunno.” I point off in the direction of Georgia Tech. “Came from over there. Looks like a fire or something.”
“Do you think it was them? I mean, Caesar and everyone?”
“Maybe they blew themselves up,” I reply with a smile. “Come on. You need to get back inside.”
I’m not going to tell Hannah what I saw any more than I’m going to tell her about my original encounter. I really don’t know how she would react, and I don’t care to find out. I haven’t forgotten about the other women held prisoner in that compound and she won’t have either. She’s under enough stress with the move to Katrina’s house and the baby nearly ready to be born. She doesn’t need additional heartache.
The invasion has passed us now. It’s time to rebuild.
I lean in and kiss Hannah softly, then turn her around and take her back into the shelter.
Tomorrow we can start a new life.
*****
“What happened to those little flavoring packs?”
“Which ones?” I look over at Hannah’s ass as it sticks out of the storage room door while she rummages through the shelves. I like the way her ass wiggles when she moves.
“The ones for water!”
“We might be out of them.” I know damn well that she used them all up, but the idea of going over there with the pretense of helping her look and then ending up fucking her on the floor of the storage room is really tempting. Unfortunately, there isn’t time.
“Dammit!”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “We can look for more along the way.”
It’s been nine days since I parted ways with the rest of the group, and I told them I would check back with them in a week. We really need to get going, or we won’t make it there before dusk.
I had initially planned to make the trek without Hannah, but I just can’t. I can’t leave her alone for that long. Besides, the longer we wait, the harder it’s going to be for Hannah to travel. She’s already starting to waddle a bit, but I value my balls, so I don’t mention it.
She’s still fucking around in the supply room.
“Really, Hannah, we have to go! We’re going to run out of daylight before we get there.”
“Ugh! All I want is a fucking iced coffee!” She slams whatever she’s been holding against the bottom shelf and pulls herself up to her feet.
I have no idea where the iced coffee thing is coming from. That’s a new one.
“Isn’t coffee bad for the baby?” As soon as I start to speak, I know they’re the wrong words to say. Her icy glare nearly throws me against the wall.
“Are you ready to go?” she asks, ignoring my comment.
“Yeah, sure.” I’ve been ready for hours.
The trek to Katrina’s house isn’t that far. We could have used the bike and cart, but that would mean sticking to the roads, and I don’t want Hannah out in the open for that long. I could have made it there on my own in a couple of hours, but we have to keep stopping so Hannah can rest. I’m nervous each time, constantly watching in every direction each time we stop and wishing I’d gone with the bike anyway.
I keep telling myself that Caesar’s camp was destroyed—I went to check it out the day after the fire. There was nothing left of it, and I have no reason to believe anyone survived. However, I’ve learned to trust my instincts. I don’t exactly feel like we’re being watched, but something doesn’t feel quite right either. It takes six hours to reach our destination, and I never quite shake the feeling.
The house is dark and quiet as we approach. I look around for the other bicycles or signs of a cooking fire, but I see nothing.
“Stay here,” I whisper to Hannah.
She nods and presses herself up against a row of hedges at the edge of the yard.
I creep up to the side of the house and look in the window but see nothing. I head around to the back and find the remnants of a cooking fire, but it’s cold.
“They aren’t here,” I tell Hannah. “No one else appears to be here either, so let’s go look inside.”
Once inside the house, I go straight for the desk in the living room. There’s a notepad in the middle of it, and I pick it up to page through it. About a third of the way inside, I find a single page with numbers on it.