When Aliens Weep (16 page)

“What’s this over here?” Jose had sidled up to a glass room with a table that had a small glass-covered dish lying on it. Inside the dish sat a rock.

Doodiet peeked around the corner to investigate what had caught Jose’s interest. “Oh, that. They are scumchi—minute life forms that thrive on minerals. They are from Chiox, a planet of nothing but rock, and some rudimentary plant life. The problem is the scumchi eat the rock. It’s their excrement that provides an environment for the simple plant life to take hold. We are attempting to discover the evolutionary track for the scumchi. Will they consume the planet? How long will that take? Will it give the plant life time to evolve into something more substantial? Plants need minerals to survive too. Is it possible to introduce a new series of life forms to the plant? We have many species that we would like to migrate to other young fertile planets. Some of our scientists think the Chiox is ripe for colonization.” Doodiet shrugged her slender furry shoulders. “It is a balancing act—critical and potentially deadly. We never know exactly
what
we will get when we do a colonization. Look at our failure with Homo sapiens. It has been a horror story. But most of the time we are successful. And remember, your planet was only the 6609th species intervention. So our numbers are actually pretty good.”

Jose was speechless for a moment. “So let me get this right
.
I’m here to be a
zoo keeper?”

Doodiet cocked her head, fur rising to stand on end. “Brother Jose, I detect a note of hostility. I am becoming uneasy. Brother Forbation will not be happy when I report to him that you are less then cooperative.”

Doodiet’s words sobered him abruptly. Kneeling in front of the diminutive minion he begged, “No, no. I’m very appreciative, Sister Doodiet. You misunderstood me.” He grabbed the minion’s leather hand, her suction cup fingers attaching themselves to him. “I beg you, Sister. Let me show you what a good job I can do.” He looked around his surroundings and swallowed hard. “I’m grateful for this opportunity.”

Apparently, Jose was convincing enough to sway Doodiet for she directed him to a hallway he had previously overlooked. Doodiet’s aura darkened. “I need only show this location to you once.” Jose’s curiosity rose.

A metal door blocked the entrance to the hallway. Alongside the door was a small box made of metal and a stool underneath. Doodiet climbed the stool, inserted her hand in the box and extracted a round key. Climbing down, she tapped the key on the metal door near the floor. Stepping back, the door opened. Doodiet motioned him through with a warning. “Do not leave my side. Not even for a second.” Jose’s interest increased.

Together, they took a few steps into the hallway that was lined with the same glass chambers with airlocks attached. The only difference was the metal bars that surrounded each and every chamber in a tight web of a crisscrossing design. A few minions pushed carts laden with varieties of substance meant for the occupants. The minions wore head gear unlike anything he had seen before. A thin supple skin of clear insulation completely encased the minions and on their heads there was a small apparatus with tubes, covering their antlers and all.

“This is a restricted area. It contains some of the most lethal species known to minions. If a lethal species is not a guest here, it’s because we haven’t had time to get to it yet. I’m happy to report we have no Homo sapiens here . . .
yet.
”

“Just what do you mean by
yet,
Sister?”

Doodiet’s aura brightened with sparkles and bright light. Jose watched her bend at the waist then straighten up. “Do you not know humor, my Brother? I was just trying some out on you. You did not laugh.”

“Ya got me there, Sister Doodiet.” Jose rolled his eyes.
What’s next?
he asked himself.
Turning back to his escort, he asked, “So this is a jail?”

Doodiet’s aura remained silent then caressed his mind. “For some guests, yes. Their stay might be short-term, but only for a rare few. For the others . . . more like a prison; as it
should
be. Some of them are the last of their species. Come, we must suit up. If there is an unlikely accident, it will keep us free of contamination.”

As Jose opened his mouth to speak, a resounding clatter, then crash was heard. Turning around, Jose saw a minion with a loaded cart had entered the hallway and bent to replace the key on the occupied side of the room. It appeared the minion had jarred the cart as he bent, sending the contents crashing to the ground. The minion stood, stress and anxiety obvious in the wild shaking of its arms. Doodiet waved her arms in return; the incident obviously a critical dilemma.

“I must give help, Brother Jose. Do not move. Our guests expect their sustenance on schedule. If not, some of them could die . . . or get quite riled.” With hardly a glance for Jose, Doodiet rushed off to help salvage the mess.

Finally alone, Jose scanned the space. Other minions had rushed to help, creating a bottleneck around the toppled cart. Whistling to himself, Jose slowly wandered off. His impression of the gigantic space was that of a simple yet effective contamination lab; a hot lab. He wondered what sort of microbes were crawling around on the minion’s “
guests
”.
As Jose wandered deeper into the restricted area, he was struck by an amazing fact.
The walls . . . what the heck is with the walls?

Jose stood next to a wall and banged his hand on what appeared to be a hard substance. He placed his hand flat, feeling an uncomfortable coolness. But where was the Womb? With the exception of the survivors’ quarters, all of the walls in the fortress were alive. He wondered about the difference in the security domain. Didn’t the Womb want to keep an eye in here too? He tipped his head back to look up. No soaring ceilings with glorious light either. Continuing on, he came to a storage area of sorts. A line of empty spheres stood against the wall. Just like the sphere he’d seen the night they’d first set their eyes on Bonnie’s friend IV, the navigator.
Bonnie calls her Ivey
, he remembered.

His attention returned to the spheres that took up most of the room at this end of the unusual space. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a lone glass chamber with its air duct surrounded by the metal bars to which he was already becoming accustomed. Looking around, he found he was alone. Eyeing up the glass prison, he noticed an empty cart to the side.
Feeding time over?
Sidling closer to the glass, he attempted to shake off a new creepy sensation. The deafening silence began to shriek at him.

He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly constricted and dry. Biting his lip and fastening his tail thoroughly to his chest, he crept closer. His heart began to hammer with the excitement of catching his first glimpse of a dangerous alien creature. Taking one last scan around to reassure himself he was safe from harm and discovery, he peeked through the glass, his vision somewhat restricted by the metal bars.

His heart stopped and he almost fainted as a slender shape with a massive head and a double row of hundreds of stiletto teeth from a maw dripping a rusty foam slapped up against the glass, almost as if it knew he would be there. And then it disappeared, having shown itself for less than a fraction of a second.

Jose blinked, his pulse racing, his skin wet with perspiration, clammy and cold.
What the fuck?
He noticed he had an almost irrational need to urinate. He hugged his damaged wings tightly to his body and considered disappearing back to his frugal room. Knowing it would be too hard to explain if he turned up missing from Doodiet’s watchful eye, he hesitated. Breathing deeply, slowly, he attempted to calm himself down. Looking deeper into the glass, he observed clearly that the block was empty.
Nerves . . . just nerves
, he thought, completely overlooking the smears of rusty goo on the glass behind the bars.

Realizing the predicament he’d be in if he were discovered here, Jose casually high-tailed it back to the minions that were just dispersing, having completed the clean-up. Among the crowd, the diminutive Doodiet easily stood out. He felt her aura probing his mind.

“Where did you go, Brother Jose?”

Replying nonchalantly, Jose felt his face redden. “Nowhere, Sister. I just stepped back over there.” He pointed to the storage area with the spheres and the frightening glass cage.
What’s the point in lying? No harm done.

Doodiet spoke. “Well . . . no harm done.” Her aura spun slowly. The minion shuffled over to stare up at him. Seconds ticked by as Jose’s face began to redden again.

“I worry for your safety, Brother Jose. My Brother Forbation is correct when he says humans are unpredictable. Minions have relied on predictability and our insistence on non-violence for as long as life has existed. There is very little that confounds the Womb. Now that we are to live with Homo sapiens in concert, I pray to the Womb that all will be well. What do you think, Brother Jose?” She continued to stoically stand in front of him, her glowing golden eyes so much like his own.

“Ah . . . um . . . well yeah, I’m right there with you, Sister.” Silence trickled by, his blood racing through his ears like a wind tunnel.

“Come . . . it is time I show you your duties.”

Chastened and confused, Jose followed the gentle minion and gave her his undivided attention for the rest of the day.

***

Later that day, Jose lay exhausted in his bed, tossing and turning. His subconscious mind was restless even as he slept deeply. The first of the dreams came as he reached deep REM sleep.

A voice, light and lyrical with a faint cry. “Helppppp me. Pleaseeeeeeee.” A quick flash of a slender blond woman, her hair full and rich, floating down past her knees as if birthing her from a cloud. A whisper. “Joseeee. I neeeed you.”

The dream slipped away while Jose sank deeper into sleep, left only with an image of rusted foam splattered against a glass pane.

Twenty Two Days AE (After Earth)

Chapter 13

Dezi sat doodling on his papers in the kitchen. He’d just finished documenting the activities of the last few weeks. The documenting was so easy with his new recording device, all he needed to do was unscrew the metal tube, flip the metal lid, and press on the paper. Then he pictured the words he wanted to say. He could glance at the paper as he thought and the words would appear as if by magic. Echo had explained the device was actually a converter. Mental energy in was converted, and the interpreted words carved themselves out on his paper. So simple.

The crafty Forbation had been right. He understood now that Forbation had been worried for him. Cooking and running a kitchen would take the most devoted chef only so far.

As the only unattached male in their group, he needed an outlet. Hud didn’t count as he was still grieving for Ginger Mae and Dezi felt sure he hadn’t completely given up on the chance she might be found. So he’d decided to keep a diary with the papers Forbation had left for him. It had started as a simple exercise to document his feelings for Bonnie. Somehow, putting his feelings on paper allowed him to step back and accept the fact that there would never be any hope for him as long as the slightest spark remained that Peter might return.

From there it became a habit to record the highlights of their new life on Oolaha. The brawl between Jose and Cobby. The uncoupling/divorce ceremony Abby had participated in with Netty and Forbation. Dezi didn’t want to be around when
that
little bomb was dropped on the rest of the group.

He had used up plenty of paper recording the excitement they all shared to hear that Daisy would soon be back from her first mission. He had noticed many tears from the women around the table when Jose’s cute little minion, Doodiet, came with the news. After a party to celebrate, Daisy would return to the restricted section where Jose worked. Dezi remembered Chloe’s generous offer to pitch in with the festivities.

“Are you outa your mind, girl? You have a
baby
due in a couple a weeks.” Kenya broke out in trills of laughter at the thought. “Let me tell you, chickey. Ain’t no cakes needed enough to risk that amazing baby you been luggin’ around for so long.”

Abby chimed in, rushing to Chloe’s defense. “I know how you feel, hon, we all miss her. But we can’t afford to have you risk our little miracle baby. And in your condition, how much could you really accomplish?”

Chloe smiled at the good-natured ribbing and protested loudly. “I could crack eggs.” The rest of the table groaned.

Yeah,
thought Dezi.
Crack eggs. Just what I need, an enormous pregnant
woman almost ready to give birth to the first human-alien minion in history and she wants to be cracking eggs in my kitchen
. Dezi shook his head as he put down the writing instrument.

Struck by a thought, he realized that two humans would be working in the fancy restricted area. It might warrant a lunchtime visit by him with their chow instead of sending Jose’s lone fare with a minion.

Thinking of Jose, he wondered how he was making out
. I certainly understand why he hasn’t rejoined the rest of us . . . now that Abby and Cobby have married. Wow, could it be that he doesn’t know? The poor guy. Someone better clue him in.
Remembering the fists that flew a couple of weeks ago at dinner, Dezi decided it sure as hell wouldn’t be him.

But if he could wangle a trip to the restricted area, he might see some sights to record in his diary. Opening it again, he made a note to interview Netty and Wil. It had been a long time since they’d shared a conversation. They usually flew in for meals, shouted greetings, gobbled some food and flew back to work. Dezi understood their experiments were important and they were learning much from the minion scientists, but if he didn’t know better, he’d think he was slipping in the culinary department. Since when had anybody been able to resist his confections? Whatever they were working on, he knew it would make a great addition to his journal and he intended to pin them down.