Xen Episode One (3 page)

Still, knowing that did not ease the guilt.
Every day I saw the atrocities being carried out on this planet,
and I longed to intervene. Alone, I could do it. One war at a time.
One conflict after another. I could bring peace.

But I was not allowed to.

He stared at me, expression grim, gaze
calculating. “Just don't do anything, Xen. You're retired now. Keep
it that way. Chandler wanted it like that. You were active for
eons. You brought peace countless times. You've done your duty. Now
it's time to let others sacrifice themselves.”

“I am not retired. I have not earned
this.”

“You are, and you have. Live how Chandler
would have wanted you to. Keep your head down and keep out of
history's way.” With that, he nodded once, a strange look in his
eye.

Then he turned and walked out. Leaving me
alone in silence.

I would not stay away from his funeral.
Despite Adam’s warning, I deserved to see my commander lowered into
the ground.

The rain pounded down. It sounded like heavy
artillery fire as it droned against the slate roof behind me.

I stood out in the open, not caring as a
deluge of water shot off the drain behind and drenched me.

It poured down my face, turning into
rivulets as it chased along my neck and down my collar.

I stared across at the funeral in the
distance.

I couldn’t bring myself to attend. Nobody
there would know me. I hadn’t been a part of John’s life for the
past 40 years.

Unlike me, he’d had a family. Not a
biological one, no kids, but he’d adopted and he’d married.

He’d integrated. Just like he’d commanded me
to.

Now he was dead.

I could hear the proceedings from over here,
even considering the thunderous rain and the mumbled subdued voices
of the priest and John’s family.

I leaned my back against the wall behind me,
crossing my arms as I stared at the coffin in the distance.

It was about to be lowered into the
ground.

My race didn’t feel emotions strongly. Or at
least, they usually didn’t. Some things, like injustice or useless
worthless death got us to feel. It would be like swallowing
fire.

In the pit of my stomach, I felt that fire.
It burnt every cell as it climbed high into my throat.

I would get the person who’d done this to
him. I didn’t buy Adam’s assertion that it had been an
accident.

I’d known Captain X'hanthol.

He wouldn’t have died in a car accident.

I continued to stand there, even as the
funeral finished and people disbursed.

At one point I saw Adam. He was
talking to a
young woman.

The
woman saw me – an old lady standing
there soaked in the rain – and moved to walk my way.

Adam locked a hand on
the
woman’s
arm, securing it in place. Then Adam locked his gaze on
me.

That gaze told me I shouldn’t be here.

I turned and walked away.

I let each drop of rain pound into my face
as I turned to stare at the roiling clouds. They reminded me of the
wild, treacherous weather of the Hantar System.

Before I’d become stranded on Earth, my ship
had been headed there. On a peacekeeping mission.

The only mission I had never successfully
completed.

No, I corrected quickly. There was another
mission I had failed. To keep my crew safe.

I was certain – despite Adam’s protestations
– that John had not died in a car crash.

And I wasn’t going to drop this.

I was going to find out what had
happened.

A blast of wind caught my saturated hair,
whipping it over my shoulder and slapping it against my heavy
jacket.

Without thinking, I took the jacket off, and
dumped it by the side of the road. Happy to be free from its
encumbering weight, I shifted my shoulders lightly and turned to
look back at the graveyard.

I narrowed my eyes, focusing with inhuman
speed and accuracy until I saw John’s gravestone.

I had been inactive for 60 years.

Today that would end.

I turned and walked over my coat in a long
legged, easy gait that hinted at my true power and agility.

As I walked away, I brought a hand up and
ran it through my gray hair.

It was time to show Earth what I could
really do.

…

Marian Chandler

My father was dead and buried.

He’d once promised me he’d never die. He’d
lied.

Now it was up to me to sort out the mess
he’d left behind.

I stood there in the rain, locking a hand on
my half open mouth.

Adam was beside me. One of my
father’s closest friends, I remembered him from childhood. A
massive stalwart man who looked like a brick wall walking, he
clapped a large hand on my back. “Your
father was always proud of you. You
know that right?”

The rain drenched me through. I was
freezing. And yet I made no effort to wipe the rivulets of water
from my face.

That’s when I saw her. The old woman in the
distance. She was staring at me.

Figuring she’d been a mourner who’d come to
pay her respects, I moved to walk towards her.

Adam snaked a hand out and locked it on my
arm. He was well over 70 now, but his fingers locked on my elbow
with all the strength of a body builder. “Leave her.”

“What? Who is she?”

“Never mind. Just someone your father
knew.”

“Shouldn’t I go talk to her? Thank her for
paying her respects?”

Adam’s expression stiffened. I’d never seen
him look so steely. Which was saying something. He was a full Major
in the army. He’d even helped train me. I knew from experience how
tough he could be. And yet the expression he shot me now... Christ,
I’d never seen him look so hard. “Leave her,” he commanded.

“Who is she?” I asked, surprised at his
reaction.

“It doesn’t matter.” Adam turned back to
look at the woman briefly. He didn’t look happy.

Then he got a phone call. The sharp sound of
the call tone split the air, and made me jump.

Answering it quickly, he shifted away from
me, leaving me alone to consider the woman.

I stared at her as she walked away.

I’d just buried my father, and the grief was
crippling me, yet my eyes tracked to follow her as she disappeared
behind the side of that building.

She was an old lady, or at least she looked
like one. Her skin was wrinkled, her cropped hair gray.

But she moved like... ah,
I
don’t
know. There was definitely something about her though.

So I followed her.

I don’t know why, maybe as a distraction. I
didn’t want to turn around and face the rest of my family. There
was too much to deal with.

My father had left a mess.

Sodden shoes picking through the water
clogged grass, I followed that old woman as she walked swiftly
through the grounds. Though she was sopping wet, she didn’t look
cold. She held her head high, the wind whipping her wet hair over
her shoulder.

When she reached the road, she did something
strange. She took off her jacket, in an unmistakably defiant move.
She dumped it on the ground, then she shifted her head around to
stare back at the graveyard.

I couldn’t see her expression – she was too
far away – but that didn’t matter. Her stance said everything.
There was an electric determination to it, as if she’d just come to
some critical decision.

I ducked back behind a tree, but before she
even glanced my way, she turned and walked away.

Which left me alone. With no more
distractions.

With a truly heavy heart, I turned.

There was a flash of lightning off to my
left, as the sky opened up for another downpour.

Then a hand reached out from behind and
locked on my shoulder. Before I could jolt, I saw Adam’s
characteristic broad shadow.

I turned to see him shoot me a grim
expression. “We still have to sort out your father’s affairs.”

I nodded and shifted to walk away, but my
head turned in the direction the woman had left in.

My gaze locked on the jacket she’d dropped.
I wanted to pull free from Adam’s grip and inspect it, but I knew
he wouldn’t let me.

There was work to do. As the last Chandler,
it was up to me to do it.

Xen

I made it home in the soaking rain. Then I
stood for a full minute staring at my front door before I opened
it. Cold white knuckles curled around the handle. I pushed it
open.

I walke
d into the center of the lounge room
and stood there, dripping onto the carpet.

I was not going to let this go.

Captain X'hanthol could not have just died
in a car crash. I kept repeating that to myself, and I would keep
repeating that to myself until I found out the truth.

He was my commander, and I owed it to him.
For without him... I was alone.

I shook as I considered that fact.

A Peacekeeper without somebody to order her
was nothing more than a beast.

I stood in the center of my
lounge
room,
my front door still open and banging in the wind. I stood there as
the day trailed into night.

Stock still, eyes locked on the wall, I
thought.

I would have to plan what I was going to do
next carefully. I could not compromise my cover. I could not reveal
my true skills. I could not let anyone know who Chandler had really
been.

Adam would try to stop me.

I would overcome him.

It was my right to know what had
happened.

Though Chandler had told us to integrate, I
felt as if Adam had integrated too well. He’d forgotten that under
his exterior he was an officer in the Unitine. And as an officer,
he had a duty, first to the galaxy, and second to his crew.

You never left somebody behind, and you
never gave up on them.

Even when they were dead.

…

Adam

I sat at my desk, stiff hand locked on my
face as I considered my computer screen.

She wasn’t going to let this go.

True, I hadn’t had much to do with Xen over
the past 30 years, but I knew her.

She was a Peacekeeper, and they never left
their crew behind, especially not their commanders.

But if she knew what was good for her, she
would drop this, turn away, and live out the rest of her existence
on Earth.

With a jerked move, I sat back, head banging
against my seat. I brought my hands forward and locked my fingers
together. My hands were sweaty. My pulse was quick.

I may have started off as an alien, but the
more I lived on Earth, the more human I became. As the devices in
my body broke down, I started to feel the infirmity of my age.

And I didn’t like it, because I had things
to do....

I rested my white knuckles back on the desk,
closed my eyes, and sat back.

“You have no choice,” I suddenly told myself
out loud, listening to my voice as it rang through the empty
room.

And it was true. I had no choice.

I couldn’t allow my plans to be interfered
with.

Not now. Not ever.

…

Miguel Rodriguez

Man, I hated my conscience. It never let me
rest.

It was after my goddamn shift, and I was
still going to check up on Jenny. Why? Because I hadn’t liked the
look of that guy. The one who’d brushed past me without a sorry or
a hello.

I pulled up outside her gate and shook my
head. Not at the dilapidated state of the gate, but my ridiculous
sense of justice.

Jenny was clearly fine. I was overreacting.
That guy from before had been nothing. So why was I getting out of
my car, opening her gate, and walking up to her front door?

I cursed under my breath as I saw the door
was wide open.

There were no lights on inside.

I was off duty, and my gun was locked in the
safety box in the back of my car. That didn’t stop me from walking
slowly and carefully up the front porch. Heart pounding in my
throat, I shifted towards the door, pressing two fingers on it as I
pushed it further open. “Hello,” I called out, “is anyone
there?”

“I am here,” Jenny said.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw
her standing there in the middle of her lounge room.

“Are you okay?” I asked suddenly.

She was standing there in a puddle of water,
her clothes drenched, her old gray hair sticking to her cheeks and
neck.

And yet she still looked at me with that
same regal if impassive gaze. “Yes, I am fine.”

I paused. “Ma'am, your door is wide open and
you're just standing in a puddle of water. Are you sure you’re
okay?”

“I went to a funeral today,” she pointed
out.

I swallowed. Damn. I wasn’t a counselor.
Wincing, I realized I couldn’t just walk away from this though.
“How about I close your door for you, ma’am, and put your heating
on?”

“I require no heat. The open door does not
bother me. Does it bother you?” She asked directly.

Jenny seriously was a weird one. I dearly
wanted to know what she’d done before she'd retired.

Now probably wasn’t the time to ask.

“Do you have anyone I can call for you?”

“I know no one worthy of contact anymore,”
she said flatly.

“Right,” I said quietly to myself. “Look, I
can’t just leave you here.”

“I assure you,
Officer, I am
fine.”

I winced again. I hated my conscience. “Are
you sure there's no one I can call for you? Maybe a family
doctor?”

“I’m not sick.”

Sure, you’re just standing in a cold dark
house with an open door while you drip a puddle onto the floor.
You’re not sick at all, I thought to myself.