The Second Wave (20 page)

Today was her birthday. When she was done
filing the reports, Elizabeth treated herself to rearranging the
folder on the first wave project marked
#02: Special Reports
(1
^st
W)
. She wanted to insert
cross references with the folder
#12: Special Reports
(2
^nd
W)
.

While she stuck little colored notes to the
pages that had folder and page numbers for follow-up information on
specific topics in neat handwriting written on them, she casually
skimmed the reports to see if there was anything she had missed.
One could never be too thorough. Still, she only noticed it on
second glace. She almost stuck a memo on top of it that would have
obscured the information for good. At first she thought she might
have the names and places confused, but she didn’t. A cold,
unpleasant shiver ran down her spine.

“General Fatique,” she spoke into the
intercom. “Please see me in your office as soon as possible.”

* * * *

Then sun was almost rising when Peter opened
the front door to find a distraught Dr. Paige standing there,
asking, with faint hope in her voice, if Eugenia was somehow with
them.

When he nodded and gestured inside, her eyes
became menacing slits. “If John took advantage of her state of
mind, I’ll personally
build
a brig for him!” she foamed. But
Peter was sure that no such thing had happened. To show her, he led
the doctor into the living room, where a peaceful scene awaited the
two spectators.

John sat on the couch, mostly upright, head
lolled back and to the right. He emitted soft snores from his wide
open mouth. A blanket was sprawled over both him and most of the
sofa, almost entirely covering the body of Eugenia. Her head was on
one armrest, her feet somewhere near the other. Her face was hidden
from view by an unruly mop of curls, and the legs were draped
across John’s lap. She, too, was slumbering serenely.

“When they wake up, tell Eugenia to meet me
back at the hospital, please,” Paige asked. She kept her voice down
so as not to disturb the sleeping.

“I will.”

On her way out, she almost forgot to tell
him, “There’s an emergency meeting at the agora after breakfast.
It’s not compulsory to attend, but I think it would be
appreciated.”

Peter promised to be there and to drag John
along as well this time. If this was about the river and the energy
problem, they’d need everyone with a clear mind.

* * * *

General Fatique stared at the page Elizabeth
showed him in concentration. He didn’t read anything unusual. “I
don’t understand, Elizabeth. What do you want me to see? I mean,
don’t get me left, what happened there was sad, but it happened a
while ago.”

“Sir, someone died.”

“Yes, I can read. A little girl. The first
death of a human on Alternearth. Made all the more tragic seeing
that she was but a toddler and died in a terrible occident. Fell
down a cliff and drowned, it says here.” He shook his head, then
gave her back the folder. “From what I read here, they held a
lovely ceremony for her.”

“What were the parents’ names, sir?”
Elizabeth pressed.

“Oh, I don’t know!” Irritation sounded in his
voice. He grabbed for the folder once more and turned the page.
“Here it is. They were Amy and George Gust.”

Realization struck a heartbeat later. Fatique
froze on the spot. Very carefully he looked down at the open page
again to double check. It was true, the report stated. On the one
hundred-eightieth day, Amy and George Gust lost their
three-year-old daughter Eugenia in an accident. Impossible. The
computer had clearly identified the mysterious stranger as Eugenia
Gust. Because, as it appeared, nobody ever fed it the information
that Eugenia Gust had ceased to be. Fatique didn’t know who or how,
but for some reason the strange woman had managed to swap her own
blood sample with that of a dead infant, thus making them trust
her.

They had to warn the settlers, speak to
Rochester and Eleven. If the stranger wasn’t who she claimed to be,
then she could be anyone. Or anything.

“This is a matter of utmost delicatessen!” he
declared.

“Delicacy,” corrected Burke
automatically.

He waved her off. “I want you to go to
Alternearth, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows arched in surprise. She
shook her head vehemently, but Fatique insisted. He didn’t trust
anyone else to handle the situation quite as subtly as he knew
Elizabeth would. There was, after all, no use to strike panic into
the hearts of the rest of the settlers, who weren’t even aware of
Miss Gust’s existence.

In the end, Burke had to give in. Fatique
called Doctors deLuca to arrange an unscheduled gateway
opening.

* * * *

“I am not going back to the hospital,”
Eugenia hissed into John’s ear. To emphasize her decision, she
crossed her arms in front of her chest as she had seen him do
dozens of times before.

The three of them, Peter, John and her, were
in the small kitchen of house number twenty-three. Peter had woken
his temporary housemates with hot tea, and had proceeded to tell
them about Dr. Paige’s visit and words.

Peter sipped his tea. “You don’t like it
there, hm?” he observed.

She didn’t answer him. In fact, she tried not
even to look at him directly. It wasn’t proper of him to gaze at
her, but it was, she had to admit, even less proper of her people
to lock her up in a hospital room. The notion occurred to her that
perhaps she didn’t deserve this treatment after all. Perhaps her
people were treating her with disrespect because they had forgotten
how to worship her.

She turned to John for help, the only one who
was different, the only one who was without a name as well, but as
she wanted to open her mouth to ask him for help, she caught a
glimpse of his mind and became even angrier.

“You’re thinking of leaving again!” she
whispered furiously, almost not caring if Peter heard her voice
this time.

“Then do not go back,” John suggested over
the brim of his cup. “You may stay here or run away, or you may
accompany us to the agora. The paths lie before you. Which one do
you choose?”

By way of an answer, she placed her hand on
his. It was the only possible path for her. If she left his side,
he might leave her behind.

* * * *

Everyone came to the agora after breakfast.
Even the older children, who felt the need to help. The little
round place with its stone benches was overcrowded before everyone
arrived, so a large number of attendees had to stand.

A buzz of half-whispered conversations filled
the air as people speculated what it was all about, or what could
be done. The whispering died away quickly, though, as Mayor
Rochester stepped into the middle to stand by the unlit column. He
gave a detailed account of what had happened the previous day.

Peter, John, and Eugenia were among those who
stood at the back of the gathering. They listened more or less
patiently to Rochester’s monologue and then the first discussion.
John, whose thoughts wandered in between paying attention, noticed
that the workers were mostly present today as well. Which was odd,
considering they should be in the forest chopping down trees and
blowing up parts of the mountains to make a passageway to the other
side.

The meeting was just about brainstorming
ideas for alternative energy sources, when Summer Paige made her
way through the crowd to John, who, being about half a foot taller
than most, stood ever out.

“Eugenia,” she called softly, trying to be
discreet. “What are you doing here?” And because she knew she
wouldn’t get an answer, she added, “I asked Dr. Wagner to tell you
to come back to the hospital. I was looking all over for you, you
had me worried.”

Eugenia looked through her.

“She’s not going back to the hospital,” John
replied in her place.

Paige furrowed her brow. “She needs to,” she
objected.

“What she needs is her freedom.”

“She is no prisoner here.”

“And yet you are treating her like one.”

Paige was about to tell him off, but a man
standing in front of them turned around and asked them to be quiet,
just as the mayor put an end to the present discussion.

“Another item on this morning’s packed
agenda,” Rochester announced, “is a matter our faithful workmen
wish to bring to the table. Mister Ueno, please.”

The foreman thanked him, then took his place
in the middle of the circle. “As you can see,” he began, “we are
not working today. We have something important to discuss with
everyone, a subject of spiritual concern.”

The crowd listened with concentration, while
Ueno gave a summary of their achievements on Alternearth. “But
despite these accomplishments,” he went on, “has any one of us at
any one time stopped to give gratitude to the Gods? I know some of
you brought house altars, but it is not what I mean. We have built
houses and stables and roads. We think it’s time to build a temple
now.”

A warm, pleasant smile spread over Eugenia’s
face. She turned to John with delight in her eyes. “They do
remember,” she beamed. “I knew they wouldn’t forget about us.”

But before John could tell her that they
probably weren’t talking about a temple for her, Ueno was already
saying, “A temple for the strongest, most powerful of all—a temple
for Jupiter.”

The attendants cheered the idea; all except
John, who couldn’t care less about the whole matter, and Eugenia,
who’s mood rapidly changed from happy to furious again. The
gathered settlers welcomed Ueno’s idea.

“No,” she whispered. How could they?
Forgetting about her was one thing, but replacing her altogether
was too deep a wound. They could not treat her that way, they
needed to respect her. Rage, anger swelled up inside her fragile
body, heated her, reddened her face, darkened her thoughts. She
would give them something to be afraid of then. She screamed over
the racket of applause until all eyes were on her, “
You shall
worship no other Gods before me.
”

The meeting immediately fell silent. John’s
hand, he had extended it to hold her back, dropped to his side. All
eyes turned to Eugenia. Now wild with anger, she roared with fury,
her voice unusually deep and resonating, “
Have you forgotten
your ways? I am your one and only Goddess. You shall worship me,
and me alone. Have you forgotten who I am?
”

On the column a flame burst into existence,
giving off a small explosion of sparks. It was absolutely still for
the shortest and longest of moments. The crowd formed a wide circle
around Eugenia, and also around John and Peter, who refused to move
away. None of the settlers knew what to say.

Then the voice of Elizabeth Burke cut through
the eerie silence. “Stop everything you’re doing right now!”

She had come by horse to cover the distance
between the wormhole’s arrival spot and the colony more quickly.
Now she rode through the crowd and stopped in front of Eugenia.
Initially she had come here to quietly warn the captain and the
doctor, but apparently she had just arrived at the right
moment.

“You’re an impostor,” she snarled down.

“
How dare you
?” Still angry, Eugenia’s
eyes flickered fiercely. The sky turned a dark, yellow gray. Storm
clouds gathered over the colony.

“The meeting is adjourned!” It was Captain
Eleven who shouted these words. If things were getting out of hand,
she wanted the settlers out of harms way. Nobody moved.

“Get down from there,” Eleven addressed
Burke, who grudgingly obeyed. She led Elizabeth and Eugenia away,
while Mayor Rochester tried to get a grip on the crowd with the
next item on his agenda, the demolishing of the hill in the forest
this morning.

John, Peter, and Summer Paige followed the
three women away from the agora and around the corner of the
canteen.

When they were out of earshot of the others,
Eleven exploded, “What was that all about, Elizabeth?”

Burke was no less angry. “This woman is not
who she claims to be. General Fatique told me to tell you quietly,
but I see it’s too late for that now. Eugenia Gust died when she
was three years old. Whoever that is,” she gestured towards
Eugenia, ”is an impostor.”

Nobody spoke for a couple of seconds. Finally
Paige eloquently synopsized, “Impostor?” She turned to Eugenia,
whose anger had vaporized and who now seemed more vulnerable than
ever. “Why did you do that? Why did you lie to us?”

“Because,” John answered in her place for the
second time that morning, “none of you asked.”

“Who put you in charge?” Eleven snarled. She
had never warmed up to John and was now beginning to understand
why. He was in on it—whatever was happening, he must have planned
the whole thing together with the strange woman.

John decided to ignore her interjection and
continued. “Her name is not Eugenia. She would have told you that,
but none of you ever cared to actually ask her.”

Summer Paige looked at her intently. “Then
who are you?” she asked. Despite Eleven’s stern glance and
Elizabeth’s huff, her voice was quiet; it held no accusation.

Eugenia decided it was time to speak. She
felt too weak to stand, and too sad to make any more demands of
them. Her people distrusted her. John kept thinking about leaving.
She was all alone.

“I am the ground you walk upon,” she
explained, trying to find the perfect words. “I was the first and I
will be the last.”

Eleven rolled her eyes. “Great. That doesn’t
make any sense.”

“Actually, at least some of it does,” said
Elizabeth, albeit reluctantly. “Eugenia Gust was the first human to
die on this planet.”

“If anything,” Eleven stated, “it now makes
even less sense.”