Essentially Human (5 page)

No wonder they were so ignorant and didn’t understand that Ria danced on the edge of emotional collapse.

“T’talin said she no longer receives the drugs.”

“It’s been nearly two years. There has been no reoccurrence of the panic, but she falls into exhaustion when upset. I’ve tested her and can find no physiological reason for it.”

“It’s called being human and denying herself the normal outlets left her with no recourse. I’ve seen the records, as you term it, of when she was this same age, before…” He stopped and turned to look at Milaar. “Why did you reverse her age? I’m not going to ask how, I’m sure I wouldn’t understand. I want to know why?”

“Part of the healing process included finding and restoring the physical balance of when her body reached the state between growing up and growing old. This decision wasn’t taken lightly, but she continued to fight the healing and I did what I felt was necessary to strengthen her. Since she accepted, she ages, albeit slower than she did.”

“How much slower?”

“Approximately one year for every three. At present, her body has aged five years in the fifteen since she recovered.” Milaar set a hand on his arm. “You have seen records?”

“Yes, those who loved and honored her put together a compilation of her life. I studied it as I tried to unravel who she was. She laughed, her eyes sparkled and she smiled often. She cried when receiving awards, danced with abandon. The woman lived each day. There are even encounters with people she disagreed with and her anger is easy to read. What I see now is blank. By stifling her emotions, you bottle them up. If she is anything like the woman she once was, it must be killing her, inside.” He surprised himself at what he remembered from those recordings.

His bluntness seemed to get through to Milaar, whose head bowed. “I see. I have much to consider.”

They walked in silence to the dining room, where he selected a bowl of cereal flavored squares and sat, eating them as he reflected again on what he’d learn. How much should he share with T’talin?

Not long after he’d emptied the bowl, the being in question sat down across from him, setting his writing pad down. “I found this in the viewing room and brought it. Have you any advice?”

Sam raised his head and smiled, decision made. “Lie to him. He has lied to you over and over and over. He’s used you to make money and increase his influence with my government. And people have died so he could yield that power.”

“Died?” T’talin’s eyes opened wide. For a moment, Sam could see the cat iris behind human appearing eye.

“Yes. The disease you found a cure for. It’s called the Shakes. And we need a cure, not a treatment. Three sections of my country are under quarantine because it is highly contagious and we don’t know how to treat it or have an antidote for it. If he’d released the medicine you gave him a year ago, over ten thousand people would still be alive. In the three days I’ve been aboard, another eight hundred have died, and at least fifteen hundred have been diagnosed.”

He knew the figures well. He’d read up on them when his sisters refused to leave Dallas and head north. Rosie had been extremely confident that a cure would be found. Merry stood by her. Eight weeks later, he couldn’t get them out and seven months later they were dead, along with their husbands, his three nephews and niece. All gone because it didn’t profit Alfred Hammer, the Third.

The captain sat, eyes focused beyond Sam’s head.

The Aleena may not suffer deep emotions, but they certainly reacted to information with concentration. He almost hated to interrupt. “How does he communicate with you? Do you have access to the internet?”

“The internet? No. Ria explained how it worked and we’ve attempted with the computers we recover but have not been successful. We have the one Hammer gave us and understand the basic technology but he controls our access. We receive a written message and the box sends an image to a screen similar to what you saw, with a longitude, latitude. I reply with a time and date, then it shuts down. It works again when we reach that location.”

“He keeps a very tight lid on you. I need to sleep, then show me the computers you’ve found. Maybe I can devise something. You need to educate yourselves to the reality of who you are dealing with. And I need to contact my team and get them looking into him. We have to be extremely careful. His company has been managing the security of the internet, my government, and countries all over the world, for over three decades. He is a legendary computer genius.”

T’talin nodded. “Thank you. I suspected he used us. I need to gather more information and report to the council so that decisions can be made.”

“What are the intentions of the Aleena toward humanity?”

“Intentions?” The commander thought a moment. “Our intentions are to live in harmony, assist when we can and gain some consideration for the way our home is treated. The oceans of the world suffer greatly from the burdens humanity places on them. Many areas are unable to sustain life. We can help revive them and teach humanity how to harvest without harm.”

“The proof is in the pudding, sir. Now, if you’ll excuse me, where can I sleep?”

“A bed has been prepared for you in Ria’s room, if you have no objection. Milaar asked if you would stay there as you seem to have a sympathy with her.”

“Fine. She needs clothing and a cover. I know the temperature is comfortable, but for both of our sakes, it would be easier if she isn’t naked all the time.” He stood.

“She is a mature woman and capable of the sexual act, if that concerns you,” T’talin stated.

Sam almost laughed, but stifled the impulse. Exhaustion could see him say something he didn’t mean. Instead, he nodded. “Yes, but being capable of it and welcoming it are two different things. And it takes two to tango. I’m not ready to dance and I doubt she is.”

With that closing line, he left.

Alfred fumed. Damned women had no business yielding authority. How dare that fat old cow question his evidence? He was the security expert. With a grin on his face, he contemplated seeing the bitch’s career ruined. He could do it, easily.

Now, Professor Hermione Bale provided a different challenge. He couldn’t just fabricate a scandal for that one. He sensed a great depth to her and immediately set his agents to uncovering her secrets. She wanted her boss back and wasn’t happy at his being a turncoat, but she’d accept it. She didn’t have a choice. He’d enjoy watching her twist and turn in the breeze. Before he finished, she’d be blinking in confusion and begging him to cover her ass however he wanted to do it.

He looked forward to that.

With that thought dancing across his mind, he bent to the current matter at hand. T’talin had lied to his father about that idiot author. He studied the computer records from Agent Montgomery’s team at HRSD and had to admire the detail they went into. He had no doubt it was the author. Though the Aleena developing a clone fell within the realm of possibility. It depended on how severely she’d been injured jumping from that ship. Every expert his father spoke to said she died on impact.

His mother threw every resource she commanded trying to find the stupid witch, but even she eventually admitted to defeat. She’d left them, ten years before Aster’s suicide, to work for the Save the Seas Foundation after hearing the writer at a convention. His father signed a huge settlement after she agreed to only use her maiden name and keep Hammer out of the membership roster. Years earlier, when his wife had discovered the author and grown more and more polluted by her agenda, he’d negotiated all the funds she needed to indulge herself, but only if she went to conventions under an assumed name.

Too bad he hadn’t known how poisonous her writing would be. He’s lost a wife and Alfred his mother, to the romance writer. And now her existence, or her clone’s existence, threatened the kingdom he’d built. He wanted her dead, or suffering. He didn’t care if they’d managed to revive her and strip fifty years from her or if they’d cloned her. Either way, he’d have her in his labs and under a microscope soon. Or he’d reveal the Aleena and see the fires of hell fell on them.

Imagine how the country would react to discover the real enemy maneuvered off the coastline, capable of infiltrating every river and lake? T’talin may have enough backbone to mislead him, but in the end, the alien would lose and surrender their prize. She must mean a great deal to them, considering the risk they took to retrieve her.

And Agent Montgomery? If he lived, he would be the ultimate scapegoat.

Alfred bent his attention to the reports, first making a quick note to look at Montgomery’s team for weak spots. If nothing else, that sort of man could be manipulated by threatening his team.

*****

Harold looked her in the eye. “We’re going up against Hammer Industries?”

“You rather let them paint Montgomery as a terrorist?” Hermione lifted an eyebrow.

“No. You’re certain this isn’t a mistake?”

“I’m certain this is a frame-up. I don’t know what Hammer is covering up and that is part of why we are meeting. No online notes, no recorded data. We do this strictly old school. And we will discover the underlying reason behind the rewriting of history.” She held up a paperback book. “I bought this the evening we brought that woman to the base. And despite Hammer’s manipulating the electronic trail, he can’t remake paper. The woman Sam handcuffed himself to wasn’t this Hadasa Jefla.”

She opened the back cover and passed the book around. “That is who the
Ballard
pulled from a raft. Whether surgery made her look like this…”

Drum shook his head. “No scars, no signs of surgery of any sort.”

“All right, then someone perfected cloning or a cure for suicide and old age, all at once. I want everything we can find on this woman. It’s possible Hammer has corrupted every official electronic file, but she still has fans and archived fan club material.” She addressed Drum. “You’re old warhorse desktop will be the only electric archive. Print everything and stash it in your safe room. We all know where the cameras and recording devices are at the office, do nothing when in sight or hearing. We’ll meet for coffee every morning for an informal report, at the Starbucks on Halsey Drive. Otherwise, the team holds all reports for my home, where I have installed a dampening device, or here, in Drum’s basement.”

“You need someone outside the office.”

Hermione waved at Drum’s youngest son, refusing to be shocked at his eavesdropping. “Jermaine. How long have you been listening in?”

“I know that bastard Hammer is trying to frame Uncle Monty. You need an outsider and it’s gonna be me. I’m as good as Agent Dancer. And I’ll work off the radar.” Jermaine stared his father down.

Hermione shrugged. “Drum, you know he’s good. Is he that good?”

The large black man glanced away, then turned to address her. “Yeah. He’s that good.”

“Fine. You follow the same safety measures as the rest of us. You don’t talk to your friends, the only person you talk to is your father. In person, no cell phones.”

“You know, there is one format you guys are missing when it comes to chatting.” Jermaine moved into the room to perch on the old fashioned pool table.

“What’s that?” If the kid had a good idea, she’d listen.

“The RPG rooms. No one monitors that. You already play, Professor.”

“Oh, you know that?” She knew Drum’s son was a computer genius and if he could help, she’d use him.

“Sure, but we need one of the huge ones. They are impossible to track.”

She had to give the kid credit. It was a good idea. And Sam knew her handle, they’d run up against each other. Even teamed up a few times. She looked at Harold. “You play Ringsearch?”

“I have, been awhile.”

“What’s your handle?”

“He’s Sigurd.” Jermaine snickered. “Haldor’s second in command.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

Drum’s son smiled. “No magic, man. I lifted your cell two years ago and saw the e-mail from your teammate.” He held up his hands. “I had no business doing it, just being a shithead. I know better now. Ask Dad, I went through some crime time.”

“He did. He doesn’t do things like that anymore.”

“You claimed to know mine. How’d you get that one?”

“I stood next to Monty once as he closed down a battle where you two had just beat down a pack of Orcs.” Jermaine winked.

Hermione laughed. “Okay, you’re right. That is a good idea. Drum, who are you in Middle Earth?”

“The Ebony Wizard.”

“Of course. And you, Jermaine?”

“Dauri. Sam is Gimlad.”

“Okay, take notes and use the chat room sparingly. Jermaine, where do you want to start?” The kid had a good idea, let’s see which way he’d run.

Jermaine turned his face to the ceiling and closed his eyes. She studied the young man. Born late to Drum and his wife, he still lived at home, but she knew he spent most of his time helping out his mother with her home-based business while attending the occasional class at the local junior college. His IQ was off the charts.

“You guys are best with the official data. And if you go near Hammer, he’ll nail you to the wall. I can’t get at him directly, but…I can do sideways. He funds a second chance program at the JC.”

“Nope, he’ll know who you are through your dad.”

“Not if I use my friend’s student ID. Todd and I could be twins.”

“He’s right about that.” Drum nodded.

“You know that isn’t enough to get by his security,” Harold stated.

“I wouldn’t count on that, I’m not stupid. For one thing, he isn’t going to run a ninth level of hell security check on students. For another, Todd and I, well, we set up a full swap years ago.”

She noticed he didn’t look at his dad on this one. Drum shook his head and seemed resigned to his son’s undeveloped criminal past.

“You are so busted.” She chuckled. “We check it out before you move on this. I’ll do it from my home, I have a method. If I clear it, fine. Every single step, you check in and no moves on your own. You got that, Jermaine?”

“Hey, I don’t want to disappear into one of Hammer’s prisons, don’t sweat it. I want to help Monty, and that is it. You guys have the guns. I’ll stick to looking at things sideways.”

“I’ll get back to you tonight.”

“I’ll be in Middle Earth, setting up a play for us. Sound good?”

“Yeah, Jermaine, you do that. Harold, you good with all this?”

“Yes. I want Montgomery back. You do realize this new security mess puts both of us under review?” Her teammate crooked an eyebrow, his black eyes calm and steady.

“Nothing for it. We go through security clearance all over, our access to office resources is bound to be restricted. With luck, we’ll be suspended with pay and can while away our time at the library and drinking coffee.” She snorted while Harold lowered his eyebrows. He was the most expressionless man Hermione knew, save for his eyes.

*****

Sam didn’t think he’d fall asleep easily. The quiet of the ship seeped into him and he slipped away between breaths into dreams of swimming in deep water. He arrowed though the blue, reaching out as if grabbing great handfuls of water and using it as a rope to pull a weightless body through the water. He glided with a grace he seldom exhibited when awake.

Until a sharp cry cut through the dream, straight to his waking brain. With a snort, he shot upward, searching for the source. The room had darkened while he slept, but his movement triggered a sensor and a soft light brightened. Just enough to see shapes. And movement. Ria jerked and he sprang from the bed. The shorts he’d loosened for sleep nearly fell past his hips. He caught them with one hand as he closed the gap to perch at the corner of her bed. She kicked violently with her left leg, then tucked it tightly toward her belly. Since he’d gone to bed, she’d rolled back to her side and tightened up all over again.

But this time, she was vocalizing. He stroked the muscle of her taut bicep, attempting to sooth her. “Ria, wake up.”

Her head whipped toward him, eyes blank and full of unshed tears. She let out another sharp cry and then began to sob. He tried to reason her out of it, but the shear heartbreaking sound she let out made it difficult to do much more than offer comfort. After a few minutes, he realized she still slept, even as her body trembled with sob after sob.

He gathered her into his arms and rocked her, crooning nonsense to that incredible mass of hair just below his chin. She had the softest hair he’d ever touched. Like strands of silk and velvet mixed into one, vibrantly alive. He ran his hand down it, feeling how it curled around his legs, almost stroking him back. What had the MRI machine found?

Was it still there?

His fingers combed, probing gently but found nothing. She moaned and he stopped looking, just bent his face to hers and sighed. This woman danced on a knife’s edge of breakdown. He’d said it before and he’d been so very right.

“Ria, you need to wake up and leave it behind. It’s all right, I’m here, I’m holding you and it’s going to be okay.”

She mumbled something, but he couldn’t understand the words. Abruptly, she went limp and silent. He carefully pulled her face upward and gazed down. Her eyes were closed and it appeared she’d simply drifted back to sleep. When he tried to lay her back down and move away, she stirred, growing restless all over again. With resignation, he settled down next to her, keeping arms tight around her.

They needed to get her some clothing.

He lay, trying to relax while his body refused to ignore the simple fact that he held a naked woman, on a bed.

He wouldn’t take advantage of her. Ironic, considering she was technically over a century old, it would be like seducing a child. He argued with himself, convincing his hyper alert lower regions to get rid of the idea that sliding along this supple skin was necessary to life. Yes, she felt good, but no, he wasn’t going there!

For all he knew, Ria wasn’t her name and all of this would amount to nothing more than an elaborate attempt to trick him into revealing security codes.

He sighed at the idea. He didn’t know any security codes, at least nothing that would make this intricate charade worth staging. He trusted what he could see, taste and feel. The Aleena were real, this woman had substance and that bastard, Hammer kept back the antidote that would have saved his only family.

His fingers stroked Ria’s hair as he thought about his sisters. When sleep came again, he dreamt of Texas, walking good memories.

She woke with muddled senses. Someone held her, she could feel an arm draped over her back and was that a shoulder her head rested on? She swallowed and opened her eyes to see nothing but the curtain of her own hair blocking her view.

“N’sila, I need to speak to Agent Montgomery.”

T’talin? This wasn’t the Aleena she cuddled next to.

“Ria?” The arm shifted, allowing her to slowly pull herself away. It took some maneuvering, as her hair tangled about his arm or anchored under him.

“What happened?” She sat up, gathering her tousled mop and setting it in her lap. She’d never found it annoying, until right then, to have so much hair. “Sam, why are you in my bed? Did we…?” She’d remember, wouldn’t she?