Aliena (8 page)

“Now we go home,” Aliena said, and led the way back up the slope to the shuttle. It seemed their business here was done.

They returned to the shuttle, and immediately (it seemed, thanks to the stasis field) were back on Earth. They exited and rejoined Dr. Ching and his assistant.

“The machine objected,” Aliena told them. “I overruled it.”

“Your word is law,” Ching agreed, though he did not seem enthusiastic. “We will meet again in a month.”

“True,” she said.

“They treat you as if you are a queen,” Brom said as they returned to the waiting train.

“She is queen of queens,” Sam said. “Everything hinges on her.”

Aliena was silent. They entered the train, and it got in motion.

Brom realized that Aliena had not spoken to him directly since the issue with the alien machine. “Are you all right?” he asked her, concerned.

“I am well.” But her coolness was manifest. Brom was out of sorts.

“Brom, couples can fight, over even trivial things,” Martha said. “It is very painful because of the intensity of their feelings; they are super-sensitive to each other. But it is normal, and they usually make up soon.”

“Did we fight?” Brom asked, baffled. Aliena sat beside him, ignoring the dialogue.

“Oh, yes,” Martha said. “You doubted her. You hurt her feelings.”

“But I told her I accepted her word.”

“That is not enough. You should not have required her to give it. You are so focused on her being alien that you forget she is a woman.”

Evidently so. “How do I make it up?”

“Apologize. Profusely.”

Brom glanced at Sam. “Utter abject capitulation,” Sam said.

Brom turned to Aliena. “I am sorry I was insensitive. I just wasn’t thinking. I would never hurt you deliberately by word or deed, and I know you feel the same about me. I blundered. I was so wrong.” He felt unmanly tears welling. “Aliena, I beg your forgiveness. Please, please.”

Now she looked at him. “It is not just that. It is that I fear I have done the wrong thing in saving the baby. The Machine Doctor has reason.”

“But that’s proof of your commitment! You would not bear a human baby if you knew it was doomed by alien malice.” Then he froze, afraid that he had said the wrong thing, blundering again.

Aliena looked at Martha. Her shirt had managed to fall open to his view, and her skirt had ridden up on her thigh. Neither could have been by accident; she hardly ever had clothing malfunctions any more.“Is sex permissible once pregnancy is established?”

“It is,” Martha reassured her. “Provided it is gentle. But watch it in sea water.”

“Beds only,” she agreed with seeming regret.

Aliena took Brom’s hand and led him to the bedroom chamber. He accompanied her gladly. She had forgiven him.

Later, back with the others, Aliena was thoughtful. “This child—she will need a family. It is the human way.”

“She will have us,” Brom said.

“Grandparents also. I have not asked about your parents. We must contact them.”

“We can’t,” Brom said. Then, seeing that she wanted more, he explained. “They got religion when I was in college. They joined a minor Christian sect called the Holy Order of Vision, went to Uganda as missionaries, and disappeared.” He paused, then forced himself to continue. “It was a repressive regime hostile to any suggestion of reform. I think they didn’t trust do-gooders from America, and quietly disappeared them.”

Aliena looked perplexed.

“Secret arrest and execution,” Sam said. “Used by rogue governments to get rid of troublemakers.”

“Oh. But this is merely supposition.”

“Efforts to track them met with resistance,” Brom concluded. “That is the way of such things. Such governments never admit what they do. I fear they are dead.”

“This is painful for you?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Then I apologize to you for reminding you. I did not mean to bring you pain.”

“Not your fault,” he said quickly. “You didn’t know. I would have had to tell you sometime.”

“Then I must approach the other side,” she decided. “The parents of this body.”

“That’s not wise,” Martha said. “The body is a donated host, as you know. The parents do not want to be reminded.”

“They will reconsider if I explain to them.”

“The record forbids us from contacting them. We don’t even know who they are, officially.”

“Then we must find them,” Aliena said firmly. “How may this be accomplished?”

“Well, there’s the Internet,” Sam said. “The big search engines can locate almost anything, if properly used.”

She eyed him cannily. “You know how to use them.”

“It’s my business. But it would be an abuse of my position to use them for this purpose.”

“But not of mine.”

“Technically, no.”

“Teach me how to use them.”

Sam glanced at Martha, “Is this legitimate?”

Martha laughed. “Have you tried telling Aliena no recently?”

Now Sam glanced at Aliena. She was leaning forward, shirt loose, eyes focused on him. He shrugged. “Less cleavage. More eye. I’m your bodyguard, not a boyfriend or credulous bystander. Look eager for knowledge.”

She quickly adapted, resembling a pleading puppy.

“I will show you how to make an Internet search, purely as a skill you may need to use some day. I am not inquiring what you might wish to search for. That is not my business.”

“Do not inquire,” she agreed.

They went to a computer terminal at the rear of the car, leaving Brom with Martha. “And I thought she was shy and innocent,” Brom remarked.

“She was, until her week with you. You transformed her. You taught her emotions, and the real world, and unleashed her phenomenal potential. All we can do now is support and protect her, and maybe enjoy the ride.”

“I love the ride.”

They completed the train trip, and resumed their honeymoon travels, returning home two weeks after starting. But Aliena was not about to relax. “The grandparents,” she said.

“Who?”

“This body is the child of two people who surely care about her welfare. I must meet with them.”

He had forgotten for the moment. He tried, suspecting it was futile. “Aliena, that may not be wise. They probably regard their daughter as dead.”

“But not their grandchild.”

Brom was dubious, as were Sam and Martha, but Aliena was determined. The records had the information, and she had aptly researched them, and the parents turned out to live within a few hundred miles. They were contacted by message and told that the person inhabiting their daughter’s body wanted to meet them. They refused absolutely.

Aliena phoned them. “I am the person your daughter enabled to live. I want to meet--” She broke off, looking at the phone in perplexity. Grandfather had hung up on her.

“We must go there personally,” she decided.

“Aliena--” Brom started, knowing that his position was tacitly supported by Sam and Martha.

“Copulate distantly,” she snapped. “Must I go alone?”

They went with her. Martha called ahead. “She is determined to meet you,” said to the other party. “We are unable to stop her. With luck you can make the encounter brief.”

The limo pulled up in front of the house, which was a handsome stucco residence in the suburb. Martha hurried ahead and rang the bell. She gesticulated as she talked to the man.

They were admitted to the Smythe residence. The man was of middle age, handsome in his solidity. The woman was portly, with long dark hair, bearing a distinct resemblance to Aliena’s body.

“Be seated,” Johnson Smythe said brusquely. “I am stating on the record that this encounter is occurring under duress. We lost our daughter and do not wish to see her body used elsewhere. Your presence here is unkind. Please say your say and depart promptly.”

They left it to Aliena. This was her show. She could be phenomenally persuasive when she set her mind to it, as they had discovered.

“Mister Smythe, I am an alien brain in your daughter’s body, though I ask you not to reveal this elsewhere. You may be repelled by me, but there are three things I must ask of you, and if you refuse I will not bother you further.”

Brom hoped that they took her reference to alien figuratively: a human brain from elsewhere.

“You have the nerve to ask favors?” Johnson asked angrily.

“You may hate me if you choose,” Aliena said evenly. “But I owe you enormously, for donating your daughter’s wonderful body to be my host.”

“We don’t hate you,” Rebecca Smythe said. “We just don’t want to associate with you. The memory of our dear daughter torments us enough already. To see her body animated by another person is agonizing.”

“It’s as if she returns as a zombie,” Johnson said.

Aliena looked at Brom. “Zombie?”

“A dead body reanimated but still dead,” he said. “A thing of horror.”

“That is fair,” Aliena said, nodding. “I myself am nothing to you, Mister and Misses Smythe. But I am pregnant with your granddaughter. She is of your blood, as I am not. She must have grandparents.”

The two were plainly taken aback. They had not thought of this aspect, and of course had not known of her pregnancy.

“Don’t you have competent help?” Johnson asked after a moment. “Doctor, nurse, babysitting? If you are important enough to rate a caretaker and a bodyguard, and have a husband, you can surely afford such details.”

“An alien mother is not enough. I have no experience of this nature. The child must be among those who will love her, as I know you will. She is your daughter’s child,” Aliena said, her voice quivering. There was a tear in her eye. How much of this was art Brom couldn’t tell, but it was devastatingly effective. Aliena learned all lessons well.

Brom saw the man’s granite facade begin to crack. The woman’s icy reserve started to melt.

“What do you want of us?” Johnson asked.

“Please, I want you to name her.”

It was like a hammer blow, knocking them both back emotionally. Names were potent.

“What else?” Rebecca asked.

“To let her be with you, when I must be away from her. To take care of her, as you did your daughter. To make her be like your daughter, to share her background, her religion, her heritage. As your daughter would have raised her. She deserves that.”

They were both shaken, visibly weakening. “And?” Johnson asked.

“And to teach me to sing. Your daughter’s fine voice should not be wasted. I want to do justice by her, too, to the extent I am able. To thank her in my fashion for the gift she gave me. Please, help me.”

It was as if the man slowly crumbled into sand, and the woman dissolved into jelly. Rebecca got up and came to Aliena, putting her arms around her. Johnson followed, and put his arms around them both. The three wept together.

After that it was simply a matter of ironing out the details.

Next day Aliena visited them again, for her first singing lesson. She knew how to sing, of course, but wanted to do it their way. She learned to read music instantly, amazing Rebecca. Her voice was perfect.

“I think the body knows,” she said. “Maybe it is in the bran stem, enabling me to follow where it leads.”

“Oh, I wish you could sing in our choir, as Becky did.” The host had been named after her mother, then renamed after the transplant. “She even soloed on occasion. Music was her life.”

“I will do that.” No one made any objection; this continued to be Aliena’s show. They took hotel rooms and remained in the area.

Two days later Aliena accompanied the Smiths to their local church. Rebecca drew the pastor aside as Sam, Martha, and Brom took inconspicuous seats at the rear.

The pastor had been briefed, with no reference to alien creatures. “We have a special guest in the choir, today,” he announced. “She may look familiar to you, but she is not. As many of you remember, Becky’s brain was lost, and her body was donated for use by another person. This is that person, visiting us this one time, honoring Becky’s memory.”

There was curiosity and evident nervousness in the small congregation. Many were not at all sure about this, and some seemed revolted. But Aliena took her place in the choir, lovely in her conservative uniform, and sang in the soprano section, her bell-like tone audible among the voices.

Later in the service she soloed, singing the selection for the day.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,

That saves a wretch like me.

I once was lost but now am found

Was blind but now I see.

It was absolutely, compellingly beautiful, and seemed highly relevant. If she had not won them over before, she did so now. There was a low murmur of appreciation. It was as if Becky was back.

After the service she stood with the pastor and thanked the church members for their tolerance for the stranger among them that she was. The parishioners were gratified and moved. Now they knew that Becky had not completely died.

“I think that’s a rehearsal for her coming out,” Sam murmured to Brom.

“She’ll pass,” Brom agreed.

They returned to their town. In due course the Smythes pulled up stakes and moved, so as to be closer to their coming granddaughter. It was clear that they had not only been won over, but smitten. Aliena welcomed them, seeming genuinely glad for their company. Brom doubted it was an act. Once she learned feeling, she practiced it fully.

A month after the first visit to the space station, they went again, theoretically for Aliena’s routine checkup. But there was more on the docket.

“This time we contact my home planet,” she told them. “I am now established in my native host, and it is time to tell my people.”

This was news to Brom. “But your home planet is a hundred light years away!” he protested. “You can’t talk with them.”

“Our technology is further progressed than yours,” she reminded him gently. “There is instant contact I can evoke. I need to do this, because only the home world can release the secrets of the ship for your use.”

“Secrets?”

“Like one third light speed travel. Advanced machines. And the history of our species.”

“And you will share such things with us?”

“Of course. But my people will need reassurance that your people are worthy of the information. I will assure them. But it has been three centuries, and they may have changed their minds. I do not know whether any of their other space missions have reported back. We might be the first one.”