Confrontation (The Seamus Chronicles Book 4) (9 page)

Sometimes I think my dad misses lecturing us. When he arrived at the central cabin, Liam was back and still chewing a mound of carrots. I couldn’t stop smiling because it looked like my brother was a heifer out in the field working its cud around. Dad was not amused, we need to be accountable for what we eat and he thought we were messing around.

The lecture started calmly but eventually built to a full-on tirade. Dad hit all the classics: common sense, responsibility and communication. On top of that he added being a role model, which was new for us.

Of course he’s right, and I have experienced enough of his lectures to know that he’s not looking for an answer or an explanation. He wants his point to sink in and talking back does not show that it has.

When Dad finally calms down and starts puttering around the central cabin, Liam knows it’s time for his personality to take over.

“Remember the candy we had in Mexico?” he asks.

“Not particularly,” I reply.

“Yeah, it was like hair or something. Brown stuff you squeezed out a guy’s head and then licked,” Liam continues.

“That sounds so disgusting I might puke from your description,” I say, but I’m curious about where he might be going with this tangent.

“Well, that’s what this new fruit reminds me of. Hair candy.” He giggles a little.

“Why are you talking about
Pelon Pelo Rico
?” Grace says, surprising us both.

“What’s that?” Liam asks.

“We had it in Mexico. It’s candy. It’s basically called ‘sweet hair’ because of the packaging. I liked the mango, but you loved the tamarind one,” she explains.

“So translating from Liam to English, you think the fruit from this alien planet tastes like tamarind candy?” I say, trying to finish off another of my brother’s puzzling thoughts.

“Yeah. Except it is a little sweeter and about a thousand times spicier,” he says, completing his comparison.

“We found alien fruit?” Grace asks.

“Native fruit, and we didn’t find it.” My fear begins to rise again as I think about the natives having open access to our village.

“Then how did you get it?” she asks.

“I think the creatures left it,” Liam says, obviously without thinking.

“They came back?” Grace asks. She shrinks almost completely into herself.

“We didn’t see who or what left them.” I glare at my idiot brother. “There was a platter of things left on the trail just before the central cabin. Liam picked it up and tried to eat one of the things.” I provide more of the details.

“Actually, I tried one of each,” Liam corrects me, clearing up one of his earlier lies.

My sister, the former optimist, slumps down onto a bench. “So they can come and go undetected and they can kill us with ease. I guess we’re all just waiting around to die.”

I don’t think she is correct. The natives of this planet are not aggressive. In fact, I think the fruit was a peace offering of sorts. Having looked into the eyes of one of the creatures, I feel like I have a better read on them than anyone.

The fruit that was left does not seem to be poisonous. Liam is okay, aside from a bad taste in his mouth. In fact, the way he keeps playing with the fruit has me thinking that he will probably wind up eating more.

Even more than before, I am sure we cannot let the McMurdo guys turn our expedition into a seek-and-destroy mission. We need to engage with the natives on an emotional level and understand what they may be thinking or feeling.

Sofie needs to go on the mission. She or Grace would be the best person to make first contact, but Grace is not really an option. She has too much emotional baggage right now.

Plus Grace has to take care of herself and her unborn child; Sofie does not. But I need to make sure to leave that out when I try and convince Sofie to go.

Dad comes out of the cabin and looks up at the sky. We are all getting better at understanding the time of day based on the location of the sun, and he is expecting the others to be arriving soon. I decide that having others around is a good time for me to be alone, so I head into the cabin.

If things go well, I can have both of the new portable reactors operating before everyone else is done eating breakfast.

Before I can get through the door, I hear a voice. I think it belongs to Henry, but I can’t make out what he said.

Every logical piece of my brain wants me to keep going into the cabin. If he is sending a warning, spare seconds spent getting the portable units working could be the difference between life and death.

If the situation is not urgent, I can be informed later when my responsibilities are complete. Still, I stop in the doorway and wait and listen.

Henry appears at the table, carefully carrying something in his cupped hands. From a distance, it looks like a bubble, but it doesn’t appear to be as fragile as the bubbles I played with as a kid.

Henry gently lays the bubble object on the table. Dad, Liam and Grace join Henry in inspecting the object up close.

Grace begins to shake her head back and forth slowly.

“Is that hair?” Liam wonders aloud.

“Yes, Liam. I’m guessing it belongs to either Luke or Sonjia?” Henry responds.

“Did it float past you or something? How did you find it?” Dad asks.

“It was on Main Street, down by where my path joins in. There were tracks too, kind of hard to miss,” he explains, with just enough detail and no speculation.

“Tracks leading into the village or away from the village?” Grace asks.

“The tracks went deeper into the village, where they were trampled on by at least two sets of human feet. But they also went in the opposite direction. Outside the village, the tracks were deeper and even easier to see. It was almost like they were made on purpose,” Henry says, letting us in on a little of his thinking.

David and Horst arrive together. A few seconds later, Mike, Gretchen and Sarah arrive. They survey the scene and can easily tell that something is up.

Mom arrives with her usual calm and clear demeanor. “Well, it’s been a while since we started the day with excitement. What’s going on?” she asks. I definitely get my sarcasm and subtle whit from her.

While dad fills her in with the details, the rest of the village arrives for breakfast. I’m mesmerized by the unfolding scene. As new bodies arrive, they are brought up to speed with side conversations and pointed questions. It’s a very human form of making information viral.

When Sofie finally arrives, she sits next to Gretchen. She has been hanging out with the people from McMurdo lately. I had assumed it was to learn more about materials science, something she has expressed interest in. While I watch her engage with Gretchen, though, I can see that there is a friendship building as well.

There have been times when I associated with someone because of their intellect. Rarely did I think about becoming friends with them. It never occurred to me that Sofie could be spending time with them as a means to make new friends.

I have been fighting like hell to balance the survival of our species with sustaining a relationship. Sometimes I let survival win, because if we’re not around there are no relationships to sustain.

She looks at me and smiles. It’s warm and affectionate and knowing. She can tell what I’m feeling no mater how hard I fight to keep a neutral face.

A fist slams into the table.

“Enough!” Horst yells.

“Easy, Horst,” Dad says. He remains seated.

“No,” Horst continues. “We are going to follow the trail. When we find our friends, we will rescue them and exact revenge from whoever took them.”

Dad gets to his feet. “Doesn’t sound like a smart plan without a reactor, and I can tell you that you will not be taking any of ours,” dad says.

In slow motion, the guns appear. Five of them, to be precise, and they are all pointed at my father’s chest.

“Are you kidding me with this?” Dad is more surprised than frightened.

“Consider this a coup. Donna, we hope you enjoy your retirement,” Mike says, with authority.

“Mike, we’ve been using a democratic process to determine leadership. It’s interesting that you are choosing to take control using the threat of violence. Do you feel like that is our best bet for the future?” Mom asks him, seemingly more cool with a gun pointed at her.

Sarah speaks up. “We are under attack. If we don’t respond with a statement of strength, they will continue to push us until we have nothing left to push back with.”

“They just raided our village for at least the third time. We need to show them we’re not weak!” Gretchen cries out. The fear is clear in her voice.

“Raided? What did they take? Under attack? Tell me one act of aggression any of you have faced. For all we know, Luke and Sonjia could have started this whole thing with their own act of aggression,” Mom says. Her frustration is barely kept beneath the surface.

I watch Sofie carefully. She does not seem pleased with the actions of her new friends. She is leaning away from them, and I can see from her face that she is questioning their statements.

Trying to think like her, I take a moment to see things from the McMurdo perspective. The closest any of them have to a family from home is each other. Regardless of how they feel about the individuals who have been killed or gone missing—Jake, Luke and Sonjia—their group is taking on all of the losses.

  I try my hand at political maneuvering. “Maybe we let them call the shots for a while. It seems fair that you take our input, as we have been open to yours.”

I’m still not sure what my end game is, but opening the floor for negotiation and cooperation is the first step. Going after Luke and Sonjia was inevitable and part of the plan anyway. The new part of the mission is to make it peaceful, instead of violent.

The guns were not put away as I had hoped they would be. They have been set down on the table, but they remain in reach of those that remain.

Dad left to go work in the garden. Sofie made a show of going with him. I think she wanted it to be clear to me where her allegiance is in this new order.

Mom and I remain at the table and face Horst, Mike and Cassandra. It’s odd that Cassandra is there. I’m not sure whose side she is on or if we can trust her. For now, my assumption is that we cannot.

Everyone else has gone back to their cabins or off to do other chores. There was acknowledgement that our day-to-day efforts needed to continue. I’m a little surprised that the five of us were not involved in anything pressing. We contribute to the community, but I guess it’s just not that much.

Mike lays out their action plan. “Francisco, Horst and Gretchen will take one reactor and directly follow the trail. David, Sarah and I will head off to the right of the trail and attempt to get around on their flank. While the aliens are engaged with the direct team, we will go in and retrieve Luke and Sonjia, or what’s left of them.”

“I think I should go,” Cassandra chimes in.

“No. No women,” I respond flatly.

“Don’t be an ass,” Horst snaps.

“Can men have children? The fact that I have to spell this out for you makes it clear you’re not qualified to make decisions. Survival of our species is the top priority. If we lose someone capable of bearing children, we lower the chances of long-term survival,” I shoot right back.

“Any one of the women in this village has a better chance of surviving than you, Seamus,” Cassandra says, reverting to hurling insults.

“I don’t disagree with that,” I say. I work hard to soften my tone. “However, as much as it kills me to say this, every woman, including you Cassandra, is more valuable than me. This is not about ability; it’s about importance.”

Mom steps in. “Stop bickering like children,” she says. “Seamus is right Cassandra. I don’t like the idea of risking any lives, but if Mike says we are going to, then at least we should be smart about it.”

“I’ll replace Sarah,” I volunteer.

Part of me is interested in the encounter. Another part of me feels like I need every second I can get to persuade Mike and David not to use violence. Really, I don’t want to go.

If our expedition force is wiped out, there will be three men left to repopulate the species. A future race based off of DNA from my dad and Henry might be interesting. After all, my dad contributed to my DNA, so there is the chance that there will be future geniuses.

Liam’s’ contribution to the future has already been made. Having it continue seems fitting for the way my brother stumbles into things. Maybe that’s the ideal future: smart and lucky.

“Running away so your girlfriend can’t dump you? That only solves the problem for so long,” Horst says snidely. He has always been argumentative with me.

What the hell does he mean by that? If Sofie is thinking of ending our relationship, she would never confide in Horst.

I ratchet up the malice. “Be careful, you may need me to watch your back. It would be awful if I had to blink when you were in need.”

Mike steps in. “Stuff it. Both of you,” he says. “We may wind up having to carry Luke and Sonjia out. That’s the only reason I’m letting Seamus join my team. If you give me any reason to suspect you are putting a team member at risk, the punishment will be severe.”

“I trust that goes for Horst as well?” My mother has no problem playing favorites now.

“That goes for everyone. Always.” Mike rises from the table and begins to walk away.

We didn’t need rules or statements like this when my mother was in charge. Or maybe we had them, but they didn’t need to be articulated. Leadership is sometimes about what doesn’t need to be said.

“Mike,” Mom calls after him. “I respect your concern for all of our people. As difficult as it is to say this, please remember that Luke and Sonjia could be the aggressors here.”

“I’ve known Luke for a while. It’s more likely that he wound up going someplace he shouldn’t have. Regardless, we did not assault or mutilate any of those creatures when they were in our village,” Mike says, and leaves.

How do you breech the language barrier? What if language is not even the right concept? These creatures could communicate telepathically, visually or through some other means I’ve never thought of.

I think back to the Rosetta Stone, a concept I learned about through language learning software. The original Rosetta Stone had the same text written in three different scripts. It allowed scientists to use the known ancient Greek script to decipher Egyptian hieroglyphs.

The Rosetta Stone bridged a gap between time and culture. We have no need to bridge a time gap; now is the time we are dealing with. My challenge is to figure out how the Rosetta Stone was made, not how it was used.

This is what I should be spending my time on. Solving the puzzle of communicating with a new species is a fitting use of my intellect. Using my eyes to search for an idiot who left our village and confronted the natives is risky and wasteful.

In reality it was my action that created this drama. Giving the portable reactor to Luke was not a simple act of defiance. It gave Luke false courage to go pursue his own quest. Tricking me was easy, and it may have led him to believe that he would be able to trick the creatures as well.

Learning that I need to consider other people’s motives is a tough lesson. I never thought about why Luke wanted to go off on his own. The idea that he wanted to go engage the natives on his own certainly would have given me pause if I had thought of it.

My world just got exponentially bigger. Instead of living alone in my head, I need to start thinking about all the other people and what they hope to get out of each engagement.

Cassandra wants respect and glory. She wants people to not just be aware of her intellect but to praise her for it.

Grace wants security. My sister needs to know that everything is okay and that there will be no punishment or criticism put forth.

What does Horst want?

Horst wants the advantage. He wants to make sure that whomever he is talking to is off-balance. He needs time to react because his cognitive skills are not as strong as most of the other survivors.

Now that I am starting to think like this, I need to translate the knowledge—or is it belief?—into action. If Horst wants the advantage, how do I convince him that he has it while not giving it to him?

Playing people seems disingenuous. But maybe that’s what people want, to be catered to. Humans feel better when you let them work from their comfort zone and prioritize their motives.

Will the natives work the same way?

If they arrived on Earth and were engaging with humans for the first time, what would our motives be? Safety? Knowledge? Control?

What is Sofie’s motivation?

I can’t even imagine. She never wants anything. It’s sad that I cannot figure it out. Maybe she should end our relationship. Or maybe I should end it for her.

For someone who is so loving and caring, perhaps her motivation is to be left alone. The burden of always being able to understand and connect with the emotions that other people have could be overwhelming. Or maybe she just wants someone else to have feelings for her.

If my crude assessment is accurate, the approach I have been taking with her is correct. Be nearby and available. Listen. It sounds so basic and simple, but it is the opposite of my personality.

“Seamus, can you get the reactors fired up and configured? Like, now,” David says, shocking me out of my thoughts.

“When are we leaving?” I say, without trying my new approach of considering his motivation.

“ASAP. If one of them dies because we took too long to get there, it’ll be on your head.” His tone does not match his words.

David does not have conviction for his actions. His motivation is to be a second in command. One who shares orders and information, but only after it has been shared with him. He is not a critical thinker. David wants to appear authoritative, but not be responsible for anything.

“Agreed. Could you help me by carrying a reactor out here? I put them in the cabin for safekeeping, but it still feels like the smart move to activate them outside.” I make him feel important, like I need him. I also shared information that he can pass along to seem knowledgeable. And he’ll gain these things with no mental effort, merely a physical contribution.

“Once they’re outside, how long will it take to activate them?” he asks.

“About a half-hour total. Assuming everything goes well. Do you think you could get straps or some kind of harness to turn the reactors into backpacks? I was thinking of using the seatbelts we salvaged from the planes, but I can’t find any.” Again I try out my new approach; I task him with something important but not difficult.

This approach to dealing with others is interesting and even a little fun. I wonder how much control I can have by letting others think they are in control?