Alien Nation #3 - Body and Soul (24 page)

Cathy and Sikes drew closer together, and then suddenly they separated. Their hands still clasped, they stretched in opposite directions, throwing their free arms wide dramatically. He spun her around, her dress swirling about her, and then the music carried them away.

Cathy sailed into Matt’s arms and the two of them moved in time to the music. Matt had never taken dancing lessons, but it did not matter. He was a natural, leading Cathy with style, elegance, and grace. She was totally comfortable, totally at ease, and totally swept away in the romance of the moment. The rooftop became their ballroom, the small record player their orchestra, and the world their own.

Bubbles sailed past them, blown through a bubble wand by the impish looking boy. As they danced, the bubbles seemed to surround them. Lights sparkled off them, and it was as if they were dancing through stars.

Cathy whirled through Matt’s confident arms, and then he swung her down in a stylish dip, followed by an elegant swing upward.

And then he was gaping at her in amazement.

She was human.

Her long auburn hair, thick and rich, accentuated her exquisite eyebrows. Her ears were small and round and perfect. In the background, Astaire was singing “Oh, but you’re lovely, with your smile so warm . . .”

Energized by the miracle that had been handed them, Cathy and Matt resumed their dance with more power and enthusiasm than before. Someone had once said that ballroom dancing was two people doing vertically what they’d really like to be doing horizontally. That might very well have been the case with Cathy and Matt. For now, with the final barriers removed, any possible trepidation and uncertainty that had remained between them was gone. Now there need be nothing between them, spiritually, physically, or otherwise.

Sikes knew that he was flying now. Knew that nothing could possibly bring him down to earth. He was sailing through the cosmos with Cathy, who had crossed a galaxy to find him, and he could not remember a time when he had ever been this happy.

He looked down at Cathy, to see if she was as captivated by the moment as he. But she was looking at him in a way that he had not expected. There was . . . surprise. No. Not just surprise. Shock.

He mouthed the words, “What is it?” but found he couldn’t make his voice come out. She shook his hands away, gaping. What in hell was wrong with her?

Or was there . . . something wrong with him?

He stretched out a hand and snapped his fingers. Instantly the smiling boy was there, once again holding a mirror in front of Sikes. He stared into it.

A stranger stared back. A Newcomer.

Slowly Sikes raised his hand to his face . . . and the Newcomer in the mirror did likewise.

He reached up and put his hands to the sides of his head. His ears were gone. Frantically his fingers searched his face and the top of his skull, looking for hair, along with the frightened mirror reflection.

There was nothing. Nothing except large brown spots decorating his skull in a random pattern.

Cathy the human was staring at Sikes the Newcomer with unremitting dread. Time seemed to slow down and distort, stretching endlessly off into nowhere. Sikes was rooted to the spot.

Out of nowhere, Jack Perelli was in front of him, speaking in mocking tones through a megaphone.

“I warned you, Sikes,” he said, his voice drowning out the dance music. And now the music was shifting, and it was no longer Fred Astaire. It was the steady thudding of the ka\na drum, the relentless
thump, thump, thump.
“When they first landed, remember? I told you that it was going to happen. They’re going to take over. They’re going to ruin the human race. They may have two hearts, but they’re heartless. They’re soulless. They’re not human, and they have no business being on this world. And you agreed with me, Sikes . . . remember? But it didn’t stop you, did it.”

Matt was clutching at the top of his head, as if it were one of those skin wigs that made you look bald, like he’d had when he was a kid. He was trying to pull it off. But he couldn’t. It was there. It was him.

Thump, thump, thump
intoned the ka\na, louder and more deafening, and he put his hands to his non-ears but could still hear the boy’s mocking laughter coupled with Perelli’s diatribe.

“You had it coming, Sikes!” Perelli was shouting. “I warned you about them!
I warned you! I
—”

Thump
Thump THUMP
THUMP

Thump!

Sikes sat up so fast that he slammed his head against the headboard of his bed.

He sat there for a moment, stunned. His apartment was in darkness. He sat up, reflexively running his fingers through his hair before it occurred to him that he should be surprised that it was there.

There was, of course, no rooftop dance. No human Cathy. No little boy. No Perelli . . . well, at least not on the roof at that moment. No . . .

No chance.

He drew his knees up to his chin and sat there in the darkness, trying to erase the memory of the boy’s laughter, until the sun rose over the horizon.

“Morning, George.”

George, seated at the kitchen table, idly dunked a tea bag into the steaming mug. The children had not come downstairs yet and, based on their history, probably would not do so until thirty seconds or less before they had to depart. Some mornings he felt that if he blinked, he might miss them altogether.

He glanced over his shoulder at the greeting. Susan, dressed for work, was standing there. She was pulling on the tips of her fingers, which was always a good indication that she felt guilty about something. If George had been of a mind to notice, it might have tipped him off to her mood and altered the nature of the subsequent conversation. But he wasn’t remotely in the mood to be observant, and so he turned back to his tea without giving her another glance as he said stiffly, “How was your evening?”

She crossed the kitchen and started to make breakfast for herself. “Fine. How was yours?”

“Fine.” He paused. “You came in late.”

“You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Actually, I was awake . . . thinking . . .”

Before he could continue, he heard the expected sound of pounding feet. Buck and Emily tore into the kitchen like twin tornadoes. Buck tossed down a jelly weasel doughnut while Emily yanked open the refrigerator and pulled out the lunch that Buck had prepared for her the night before.

George was extremely proud of the way that Buck had assumed responsibilities around the house: taking care of Vessna, preparing lunches. It was the sort of nurturing characteristics one expected in a Tenctonese male. And if Buck ever slowed down enough for George to tell him so, then he would let him know.

As it was, Buck was shouting, “We’re late! Come on!”

“What’d you pack me for lunch,” she asked.

“What I always pack you,” he said impatiently. “Peat butter and jellyfish sandwich.”

In unison the hustling Francisco children called out, “Bye Mom, bye Dad,” and out they went.

George found it nothing short of amazing. Yesterday Emily had been angry about something that had seemed to have—at least at the time—tremendous importance to her. Yet now, off she was going without any sort of resentment. The length of time that children held grudges was miraculously short.

Unlike their parents.

Time to end this, he realized sadly. Time to do what you decided last night.

“George,” Susan was saying, “I’ve been thinking, too . . .”

“Before you say anything,” George interrupted her, “I’ve decided . . . since it means so much to you—”

“George—”

“Please,” he said firmly, putting up a hand to indicate that he really wanted to say what he had to say. She stopped, prepared to listen to him, but looking very uncomfortable. But he knew that his next words would end that discomfort. “I’ve decided not to father Albert and May’s child.”

“Oh!” She sounded genuinely surprised. And then, more softly, she said “Oh,” in a tone that George could not quite decipher. She lowered her head.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Good.”

Usually when George made a decision, he felt good about it. Wrestling with a problem was always the difficult part; once it was done, then it was done, and there was no point dwelling on it.

Not this time, though.

There had been times in George’s life where he knew that he had made the wrong decision. But always they had seemed for the right reasons. This time he felt as if he’d made the wrong decision for the wrong reason: Namely to satisfy some emotional dynamic in Susan that had just blossomed to life and that he didn’t like at all.

But he was her husband, and her happiness above all was important.

Very tentatively, he touched her temple. Then he went out, leaving behind a triumphant Susan.

Except that if he had seen Susan’s face, he would have noticed that it was not the face of a woman who looked remotely triumphant.

“So what do you think’s going to happen with Mom and Dad?”

Buck shrugged as they approached the junior high school that Emily attended. “I don’t know. They’ll work it out, I guess. They always do.”

At that moment, Emily’s friend Jill came running up to them. Buck really wasn’t particularly wild about her, since she seemed to have this knee-jerk compulsion to flirt with him every time she saw him. He kept waiting for her to outgrow it.

“Emily, Emily, look at my face!” Jill was saying excitedly.

Emily gasped. “You’re wearing lipstick! And eye shadow!”

Jill, obviously feeling very much the grown woman, turned to Buck. “Hi, Buck,” she said with every ounce of female sizzle at her command.

Buck rolled his eyes. He had the feeling that if he suddenly grabbed her and kissed her as hard as he could, she’d probably run screaming in the other direction and that would be the end of it. That would be a way to solve this nonsense, but it would also probably cost Emily her best friend. And besides, they’d probably try to have Buck thrown in jail for good measure. Wasn’t worth it. He’d just have to tolerate it as best he could.

“You look so old!” Emily was gushing.

Jill paused dramatically. “And . . .”

She raised the hem of her skirt to draw her leg to Emily’s notice. Emily squealed, “Nylons!”

“What about you?” said Jill excitedly. “Did you? Huh?”

“Yeah!” said Emily.

She had been wearing a large, bulky sweatshirt. But now she peeled it off, much to Buck’s astonishment. Underneath the sweatshirt, she was wearing a backless, potniki-revealing sweater.

“Oh, God,” said Jill in awe. “That is so mo’bo.”

“You can’t wear that!” said Buck in alarm.

“Who are you?” said Emily disdainfully. “Jesse Helms? Besides, Mom bought it for me.”

“For you to wear on your sar\nat day!” said Buck. “That’s not for a long time yet. Now you’re too young!”

“I am not!” said Emily, angrily stomping her foot. “And if you tell Mom and Dad, I’ll kill you!”

She grabbed Jill by the hand. “Come on!” she said, and they dashed towards the school building. As they ran, a teenage Newcomer boy happened past. He took one look at the potniki on Emily’s back and made a loud seductive clicking noise, which was the Tenctonese equivalent of a wolf whistle.

Buck put an unfriendly hand on the teen’s shoulder and said simply, “That’s my sister.”

The boy looked from Buck to Emily and back again. “She’s ugly,” he said.

“Thank you,” replied Buck.

The teenager moved off, but Buck watched Emily take off with increasing trepidation.

This little maneuver of hers did not bode well at all.

S
IKES
,
BLEARY
-
EYED AND
not particularly well-rested, bumped into George as he was entering the precinct headquarters. “Oh . . . morning, George.”

George studied him. “Are you quite all right, Matt?”

“Fine. I’m fine. Just not my best night, that’s all. You?”

“Oh, quite well, thank you.” He paused. “I thought you would be interested to know that I have decided that the key to the long-term health of my relationship with Susan—in this instance—is summed up in that Earth saying about Rome.”

“You mean, when in Rome, do as the Romans do?”

George nodded. “Yes. I’ve decided not to father Albert and May’s child.”

Sikes stared at him, amazed.

“What’s the matter, Matt?”

“Well, it’s just that . . . Jeez, George, I can’t ever remember you taking my advice over Newcomer . . . I dunno . . . policy.”

“I’m adaptable. That’s how we manage to survive, after all, isn’t it. We’re so adaptable.” George was only partly successful in keeping the sadness out of his voice as he turned and walked into the station. Matt followed just behind him.

As they entered, Matt said, “Y’know, George, just so you don’t get the wrong idea, I think your heart . . . hearts . . . were in the right place on this. And I got this feeling that, if you and yours hadn’t come to Earth and gotten influenced by humans, then Susan would’ve probably felt different about the whole thing.”

“Ifs and ands are pointless, Matt. If we hadn’t come here, I’d never have become a police officer and met you. And you have been . . . very important to me, Matt. Earth has had its positives and negatives, and it’s true enough in life that you have to take the good and the bad together. Trying to separate one from the other is a waste of energy. You accept the entire package or you don’t.”

Slowly, Matt said, “There’s a lot in what you say there, George. About a lot of things.”

Francisco looked at him curiously, but Sikes didn’t seem inclined to continue the conversation in that direction. Instead he said, “What are you going to tell Albert?”

“The truth,” said George. “Susan’s against it, and I have to respect her feelings.”

As they entered the squad room, George looked around for Albert, but didn’t see him. He did, however, spot May by her sandwich cart. Unfortunately, she saw him as well, and waved happily.

George managed a weak wave back. Fortunately, May then became involved in selling a sandwich, and George and Sikes were able to move toward their desks without George having to talk to May and, in all likelihood, give her the bad news.