Alien Nation #3 - Body and Soul (11 page)

Now he roamed the night streets, driven by the irresistible, all-consuming need to find what he had lost. He stumbled about aimlessly, lost and alone. He knew better than to try and bang on doors or seek help from other Newcomers. They had already made painfully clear to him that there was no one he could turn to.

He had not come to Little Tencton with any sort of plan. Instead, he was only motivated by a craving he could not fulfill. And as hours passed, and it became more and more evident to him that he did not have the tools or resources to satisfy that craving, he became seized by black and blinding despair.

He stumbled down the darkened streets and then, shaken by helpless rage, he lashed out at the first thing that was at hand. In this case it was a steel mesh trash can. He grabbed it up, wielding it high over his head, and then turned and threw it. It sailed through the air and crashed into a parked car, cracking the windshield and scratching up the paint job on the hood.

It also set off the car alarm. The car began to scream, a high-pitched, annoying shriek. The sound assaulted the giant, and he staggered momentarily under it.

Everything had turned against him. Humans. Tenctonese. And now even inanimate objects like cars were tormenting him. It was too much for him to take. With an infuriated bellow, he grabbed the underside of the vehicle.

It was a small car, which didn’t do anything to diminish the strength involved for what happened next. The giant grunted, roared, and then pulled his full strength into it. The car tilted slightly, and then faster. The axles squealed, and the giant flipped the car over. It landed, like an inconvenienced turtle, on its roof, amidst a grinding of metal. Its wheels were facing upright and were spinning slightly from the impact.

The alarm continued unabated. If anything, it had even more to howl about now than a mere broken windshield.

A block away, Hudson River and Bic Penn—no longer in their security guard uniforms—turned away from the side street they were about to go down. They had heard two things, the shrieking of the car alarm combined with the unmistakable bellowing of the giant. The alarm seemed to be echoing everywhere, but the scream of the giant had pinpointed it.

“Over there!” shouted River, and he dashed in the direction he’d pointed. Penn was hot on his heels.

They arrived in time to find a Newcomer bum poking tentatively at the overturned car. He was examining the destruction with the fascination of a child discovering a dead animal. Penn and River looked around desperately. They knew that only the giant would have been capable of such a feat of strength and anger. But their target was nowhere in sight.

River pointed and said, “Let’s try down there.”

They took off at a fast run down the side street. River knew it was a long shot. The giant might already be a mile or so from the scene.

They did not notice the alleyway that they ran past. An alleyway that was filled with garbage and debris . . .

And in the darkness of the succoring shadows, the giant sat. His long legs were curled up against his chest, his massive arms holding them close. He stared up at the night sky . . .

And sobbed piteously.

G
EORGE
F
RANCISCO ALWAYS
looked forward to the family interaction that occurred around the dining room table. After a typical workday of dealing with—as Sikes so generously called them—the scum of the earth, George needed these nightly groundings back in the simple virtues of family.

Yes, that was all they were. A nice, simple, typical family.

George emerged from the kitchen into the dining room, a plate of raw meat carefully balanced on one hand, silverware clutched in the other. He called over his shoulder to his son, “Buck? There’s a jar of thymus sauce in the fridge. Would you bring it? Oh, and a spoon for the roundworms,” he added as an afterthought.

He glanced around. “Where’s your mother? And Emily?”

Upstairs in the bedroom, Susan checked her appearance in the mirror one more time.

All that discussion about the loyalty of husbands had gotten Susan somewhat edgy. She knew, beyond any question, that she had every reason to trust George and no reason not to. Still, the problem that women had with their husbands straying was certainly not something that Jessica had fabricated. Before she’d gotten a job, Susan had seen many daytime television programs—talk shows, soap operas—and spouses sleeping with people other than their mates appeared to be a preoccupation.

She wondered if there wasn’t something that she should be doing to make sure that George didn’t get—what was the word?—a roving eye.

Originally she had put on a totally comfortable sweatshirt and jeans. But now she had changed to one of her shorter skirts and a loose green blouse that she knew George liked in particular. It wasn’t exactly a come-hither outfit, which wouldn’t have been appropriate during a family dinner. But it was enough to draw some appreciative looks from her husband, that was certain. And later on the evening, well . . . who knew?

She smiled into the mirror and then walked out of the bedroom and down the hallway.

She heard George’s voice floating up the stairs. “Susan, are you up there? And Emily?”

“Coming down, George!” she called back, and paused at the door to Emily’s room. She rapped authoritatively. “Emily. Dinner.”

Instead of the door to Emily’s room opening, the bathroom door opened instead. Emily emerged with a towel wrapped around her, having just stepped out of the shower. “Two minutes, mother. I’ll be down in two minutes.”

Emily seemed to be walking a little oddly, as if reluctant for her mother to see her back. Susan frowned and said, “Are you all right? Have you injured yourself?”

“I’m fine. Really.” She sidled past her mother, and then Susan saw them. The startled gasp from her tipped Emily to the fact that her secret was out, and she turned to face her mother.

“I know, I know.”

Susan’s hands went to her mouth. “My little girl!” She spread her arms out. “Come here. Let me—”

“Aw, mother,” pleaded Emily, stepping back. “Let’s not make a big deal about this, okay? Pleeeease?” She entered her bedroom and closed the door firmly, leaving Susan feeling flushed with mixed emotions—a little sad, a little joyful, and a little old.

George looked up as Susan trotted down the stairs into the living room. He noticed immediately that she looked very alluring this evening, and was about to say so when he was distracted by the expression on her face. Usually he could read whatever mood she was in, but this time he was getting very conflicting messages.

She did not leave him in confusion for long.

“You’re not going to believe this. I just saw Emily getting out of the shower . . .”

“I don’t find that difficult to believe at all. Emily is a very clean child,” said George.

She gestured impatiently because George wasn’t understanding immediately. “Her potniki spots are coming in.”

“No!”

The potniki spots were something very crucial for every Tenctonese woman. Matt Sikes had discovered that the previous night. His close encounter with Cathy’s potniki had ended up with his getting a stiff neck and blackened jaw.

Susan indicated the small of her back. “She has a beautiful little swirl right here.”

She sat as George finished putting out the silverware. He had totally forgotten to compliment Susan on how good she looked. By this point he was caught up completely in this startling new development. “What color? The same as her head?”

Buck walked in. He was cradling his baby sister, Vessna, in one arm. Vessna, her firm little grip already well-developed, had her tiny fingers wrapped securely around the spoon for the roundworms. Buck was carrying a jar of thymus sauce in his free hand, and he set it down on the table. He worked on pulling the spoon from Vessna’s grip, and was amused when the infant wouldn’t give it up immediately.

In answer to George’s question, Susan said, “No. More auburn.”

George sat opposite her and said wistfully, “Just like my mother.”

Emily trotted in, her body still damp from the shower and her clothes sticking to her. George looked up at her and said proudly, “Our little girl is becoming a woman.”

Emily moaned loudly and shot a furious glance at her mother. Susan shrugged and smiled.

Buck, having placed Yessna in her bassinet, glanced around. “What do you mean, Dad?”

He pointed at Emily. “Her potniki are coming in.”

The young Tenctonese girl stomped her foot in irritation. It was so aggravating. Here she was, genuinely annoyed, and her parents found her annoyance . . . cute.

“It seems like only yesterday you got your droonal flanges,” Susan said in a melancholy voice.

Emily sat down with enough force to rattle the silverware. “Could we
please
talk about something else?”

Her mother reached over and rested a hand atop hers. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Not to put too fine a point on it, Emily repeated, “Puh
-leeze.”

George took some food, scooping it onto his plate, and decided to take his daughter up on her pleas. Besides, there was certainly something of interest to everyone to be discussed. “All right,” he said agreeably. “I have some wonderful news.”

Emily looked heavenward and breathed a silent
Thank you
for her father’s decision to change the subject.

“Albert and May,” continued George, “want to have a baby.”

“Oh, that
is
good news!” said Susan cheerfully. “Are they going to adopt?”

“No,” said George. He remembered Matt’s warnings, but ignored them. After all, who knew Susan Francisco better? The unmarried, divorced, and bruised Matt Sikes? Or Susan’s own husband? “They’ve asked me to father the child.”

He had been looking down as he cut his food, but he sensed—even before he looked up—that the temperature to his immediate right where Susan was sitting had just dropped by about ten degrees. He turned his gaze on her.

He had never seen an expression like that one on her face before. And he wasn’t exactly thrilled to see it now.

“What do you mean, George?” Each word was spoken very individually, with a slight pause between each one.

It was as if she were giving him the opportunity to say, “They’ve asked me to father the child, but of course, I said no.”

Which, of course, wasn’t at all what he was going to say.

“I’m going to serve as Gannaum.” He tried to sound as pleasant as inhumanly possible. But there was just enough of a hint of fact in his voice to make it clear that this was not a topic that he was throwing open to the floor for discussion.

Buck grinned broadly. “Cool.” Emily was also smiling.

Susan looked around at them, feeling that if they looked so chipper about this, then maybe there was some positive aspect to it that she had not quite caught on to yet. “Wait a minute,” she said, feeling a desperate need to clarify things. “You’re going to have sex with May?”

“No duh, Mom,” said Emily, using that annoying irony that only preteens can muster. “How else?”

Encouraged by the positive and enlightened reactions of his offspring, George said to them—but also, and mostly, to Susan—“Isn’t it wonderful that I can help them like this?”

“I don’t think it’s wonderful,” said Susan, so quickly that the words spilled over each other. “I think it’s highly . . . inappropriate.”

Her entire family stared at her.

George couldn’t believe it. The thought that Matt could have so accurately, and easily, been more correct about Susan’s reaction than George possibly would have credited, was simply overwhelming. Unable to muster any sort of coherent reply, he simply echoed her last word. “Inappropriate?”

And that was when, as far as George was concerned, his beloved wife completely lost her mind.

Her voice went up in alarm as she said, “Actually, it’s . . . perverted! Gannaums don’t go around servicing the wives of Binnaums . . . who aren’t supposed to get married anyway!”

“It happens,” said George lamely.

“When?! Name me one time!” She stuck an upraised finger in his face.

He pushed her hand aside and admitted, “All right, it’s unusual. But I don’t see why it’s perverted.”

She slammed her fists down with such force that she rattled everything on the table. “You’re having sex with Albert’s wife!”

“Albert had sex with you!” shot back George. “You didn’t object to that!”

Emily and Buck were astounded. Whenever their parents argued, it was usually about boring stuff like money. But arguing about sex! This was incredible! Usually stuff like this only happened on television. Their heads snapped back and forth, looking from their mother to their father and back again, as if they were at a tennis match.

“Albert didn’t have sex with me!” Susan said firmly. “He catalyzed me.”

“Call it what you will. The same body parts were involved.”

Then Susan made a mental leap that George really wished she hadn’t made. If she’d reacted this badly to something that he felt was nothing horrible, how was she going to take the really unpleasant part of this whole business. The answer was not very well.