Essentially Human (7 page)

“If they’d just cut into it without a plan, it could have been disastrous. They know because this is when they needed to know. I’m going back to the reclamation bay. Take care of yourself, Ria.”

Of course, she’d take care of herself. What else would she do?

T’talin listened to the report from the engineer. With Agent Montgomery’s simple explanations they were already extrapolating a great deal. So much became clear. And the window into the human world opened wider as they sped toward the cable. They would be ready.

If only he knew how to help N’sila. Milaar reported to him her conversation with Agent Montgomery, or Sam, as Ria called him. In their ignorance, they may have done her great harm. He only hoped Sam came into her life in time to see her fully healed. The depth of human emotional response astounded him. The Aleena would never fit in on the surface, but perhaps they could find enough common ground to help each other survive the changes this fragile planet would soon suffer. According to his scientists, they had less than fifty years to see adjustments put into place. They humans had no idea how close they were to catastrophe.

He lifted his hand and studied it. The scent of N’sila’s blood as she injured herself, reacting to the news, unsettled him. Agent Montgomery didn’t seem so volatile and he prayed the rest of humanity were more balanced than Ria.

Though perhaps her lack of balance had to do with their meddling and not a propensity for it? He considered the crew from the
Ballard
. They questioned a dozen, using a mild sedative to keep them from panic, observing the rest for hours. It had been impressive. They didn’t react with violence, but sought a way out. Several protected and calmed those who showed fear. Those who he assumed were in charge, kept order. Four were scientists and deduced a great deal from their surroundings and speaking to those who were directly questioned.

Humans were much more complex than Hammer had led them to believe.

This internet would open so much for them, good and bad. They’d collected enough reading materials over the last few decades to understand the information available if they could tap into it. They had studied the few books and even a few functioning electronic devices, extracted data and had a more than basic understanding of the system. But without the engineering details and ability to connect, it did them no good.

Ria’s knowledge limited them. She taught them a great deal, but not enough to take the step safely. Hammer’s coldness in destroying his own people wounded the Aleena deeply. They did what they could to restore the environment and were ready to provide more, but that would take the cooperation of the humans.

The excitement of Agent Montgomery was contagious; he could feel the energy throughout the ship as they hurried to the cable. His time of service as commander of this vessel would be worth every sacrifice if he could make that connection.

Agent Bales ran her fingers through her hair as she studied the report from Harold. Three weeks since Monty disappeared and they’d discovered so little regarding him. The stack on Hammer was impressive and she’d found her new underground contacts invaluable at uncovering the man’s insidious touch.

His grandfather had been a simple capitalist. Took advantage of circumstances to see his company grow, stayed within the law and wielded a great deal of influence in shaping the politics of the later part of the twentieth century. Not a pleasant man, but not a criminal.

The father crossed that line a great deal. Nothing prosecutable or proven, but the dirty tricks attributed to him were impressive. And they found a connection to the author. Alfred Jr. married a woman who read romance authors. Her favorite author was Rachel Aster. Had the man tried to win his wife back by funding an illegal cloning attempt to bring the author back to life? Didn’t seem to be enough love lost between her and her ex that he would do so, but love wasn’t something she had a great deal of experience with.

It seemed farfetched, but it proved the one connection they could find. The wife held a nice fortune herself but not enough to make the effort on her own. Looking over her will, she’d left her money to the Save the Seas Foundation, working tirelessly for that cause the last few decades of her life. She’d also left behind a huge collection of the author’s books to her local print depository.

A good thing to know. More paper proof that her son had perpetuated a fraud on the government by meddling with the files. Though she had no proof he instigated that fraud. He could simply plead he’d been manipulated.

She yawned and glanced around her apartment. She’d be spending a great deal of time here once the suspension came through. She had no doubt her position at HRSD would soon be gone. She and Harold had been on administrative leave, pending investigation into Agent Montgomery’s act of treason, for the last week.

They kept Dr. Drummond, despite his connection to the team, due to his expertise. But even his privileges were under review. He had a new lab assistant who reported directly to internal affairs. And no doubt to Hammer. The defense contractor had been a constant presence at headquarters, claiming the need to personally oversee the security structure.

She and Harold took their private search totally off the grid.

Her workmate had applied for emergency leave. The Shakes had been found just across the Arizona border in New Mexico and his family lived in Arizona. Quarantine would be expanded and he needed to help them move. He’d already apologized for abandoning her, but she totally understood. They’d watched Monty’s face as the crisis in Texas took his sisters. She doubted the agency would be so understanding and Harold prepared to abandon everything he’d built in Virginia.

He had false identification and prepared to sever his old life, if denied leave. She and Drum would do what they could to find Monty and Harold would help out when the opportunity rose. The system Jermaine set up worked brilliantly, though the young man’s personal foray into Hammer Industry hadn’t been so rewarding. Jermaine worked on date entry and couldn’t get past the filing. So far.

With a groan, she pushed away from the desk and walked to her bathroom, splashing water on her face. When she returned to her laptop a blinking light signaled a personal massage from Ringsearch. She stared at the light. Red.

Sam?

Her breath caught as she opened the message.

Gimlad the Greater requests assistance in subduing the forces from the marsh.

Her hand shook as she clicked on the message, signaling her readiness, opened the game and waited.

The curser pulsed and she felt sweat run down her back.

Where have you been, Gimlad?

I did not betray the kingdom.

I know. You’re the scapegoat. Where are you?

You won’t believe me. But I’m safe and working with allies. I read the headlines. How is the team?

H. and I suspended, D’s duties curtailed. Tell me!

I was abducted by aliens. Ria is with me. Hammer is the villain.

She stared at her monitor. Aliens? When she didn’t respond, he messaged again.

See? Said you wouldn’t believe me. I need contact with D. I have the cure for the Shakes. He knows who to leak it to without it being traced back.

Hang on, I’ll get him.

Great, Monty must be injured, or under duress, or insane. But…what if it was true? She couldn’t take the chance. What the hell, she’d already dropped down the rabbit hole months ago, what were aliens after discovering the fraud society had been subjected to the last fifty years?

She sent an IM to Drum, requesting his help with a battle.

Soon, he’d joined them in the chat room. The file with the cure sped to him and for thirty minutes, she and Sam waged a campaign on the marsh monsters as the doctor looked it over before interrupting the battle.

God. This is elegant and should work. Where did you get this, Gimlad?

Aliens, based underwater. Just see it gets distributed and credited to a logical source. Fast, before the Hammer tries to block it or claim it.

I will. Aliens? WTF, makes some sense. I couldn’t find an earth source for her DNA sequence.

She smiled, Drum would see it more clearly than her.

H. is preparing to visit the underworld, to protect his family from the Shakes. It’s spreading into Arizona.

Understood. Tell him to go, now. Don’t wait. Just go. Give him a copy of the file.

Will do. We need to meet.

Yes!

Damn, she needed to see him and understand. With Drum tagging along, hopefully. He’d be able to ascertain if Sam were under the influence of a drug or mind control.

I’m trying to work something. Tell me who allies with the orcs and who side with the elves.

She leaned back and prepared to make the biggest report of her life.

Hours later, she closed her laptop lid and pushed away from the table. A glance at the window showed dawn’s light rising in the east. She didn’t need to get to the office, but some semblance of normality would set those who watch her at ease. And she desperately needed coffee.

She showered, dressed and headed for her corner Starbucks. She sat with her morning treat and brought up the news on her electronic sheet reader. Last thing she wanted to do was actually read the propaganda, but routine called for her to do so.

Another bomb overseas. An aid mission in South America kidnapped by insurgents. Civil war in China, unrest in what remained of the Middle East. She sighed and closed her eyes. A tear threatened to fall from her right eye. She quickly blinked and refocused on the stories. A small article about San Diego caught her attention. Sam’s query that Hammer had something to do with it made her stomach clench.

She’d known several classmates at the Marine Base there. Two died, one suffered a miscarriage and would likely never be able to carry a child.

She clicked to expand the story and saw something no one thought would ever be seen in Mission Bay again. Three dolphin. Alive and evidently unharmed. The photo came from a satellite, as the area still represented a health hazard so dire no one actually ventured there.

A sign of hope?

She saved the photo and sent it to Drum, then continued through the black mood inducing headlines. Walking back to her apartment, she raised her head to the morning light and wondered if things could change. She wanted to believe in something again.

As her door opened, she glanced down to see an envelope on the carpet. She quickly shut the door before retrieving it. Inside, she found a note from her one ally on the review board.

I’m being forced out, Agent Bales. Blackmailed quite effectively and I have no recourse but to resign. I’ll return to my home in Maine and leave public service. Guard your team and yourself well, he has no moral compass and will look to do you harm.

I knew Montgomery’s father and have no doubt of his innocence. I also have an extensive collection of Aster’s books. I leave you one bit of advice. Admiral Jenkins isn’t a fool. My apologies. Celeste Pritchard.

Damn. No doubt Hermione would be fired within the week now that her last advocate on the review board was gone. She only hoped no charges were filed against her.

She tried to insert the note back in the envelope but something was in the way. She shook the tiny drive out onto her palm.

Oh, this could be interesting!

*****

Sam left the information room, shaking his head at the extent of the cover up. And at least he had some answers for Ria regarding the personal animosity Hammer carried toward her. It might not offer much comfort, but at least it would give her something to chew on.

Opening the internet to the Aleena propelled a change he found hard to comprehend. In a matter of days they were spouting terms and phrases from the modern world. The vocabulary they used prior to that came from the books they’d found, a century of books. That explained the formal speech patterns.

He found himself surrounded by them when he ate, asked about points of history they’d read, or videos they’d seen. He did his best to explain, but more often than not sent them back to the internet to explore on their own. He hadn’t seen Ria in four days.

She’d hovered at the edge of the buzz and he saw Testa bent over her at one point before the two of them disappeared for several hours. He’d asked the engineer about where she’d gone and he said he’d set up a music room for her to use.

Music. One of the aspects of humanity the Aleena had no reference for. He often saw them clustered in a room, music blaring from unseen speakers as they absorbed it. He sent out a warning that music must be understood as something regarding personal taste and not taken as an indication of historical significance. He’d written more memos, as he termed them, the last few days, than he had in months at work. Most about societal norms and the various cultures of the surface world.

His psychology major worked overtime to keep it simple, but informative.

He found himself surprised at how much he enjoyed working that aspect of his past. He’d spent decades on profiling, catching criminals and investigating terrorists. Maybe it was time to consider going into private practice. Lord knows, he had no career to return to at the agency, thanks to Hammer.

Damn, he needed sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen that bed in Ria’s room.

Milaar advised him that the boost he received from the food cubes would eventually fade and he would spend most of a day flat on his back. He finally felt the Aleena were ready to be left alone to analyze and learn without his advice. He’d read the files from Hermione and he needed to talk with Ria.

As he neared her room, he could feel a bass beat literally vibrating the floor beneath his feet. He’d found a longer pair of pants but still no shoes. As he came around a corner, he spied T’talin gazing into a room, his back showing stress as the thick tentacles undulated.

The wall of sound, vibrating from the room, carried a beat and echo from early in the century. He lightly touched the commander’s arm. Cat eyes turned to him and blinked. The stress showed on the commander. “She has been turning it louder and louder. This music she listens to is full of sorrow.”

Ah. That sounded right. She needed to get in touch with grief and music often provided the gateway when emotions were lost in the internal maze of the mind. He’d written papers on music as therapy back in college and still followed the debate as therapists broke new ground, often using his paper, and that of his mentor, as guidelines.

“I’ll see what I can do. Block it from the surrounding rooms. I would assume the filters to protect her hearing are in place?” He’d been impressed when Milaar explained the implant to him and told him both he and Ria carried one.

Milaar detailed the rationale behind it very convincingly. “Otherwise the constant noises of the ship would affect you. It adjusts sensitivity levels, keeping vibrations clear and protecting from damage.”

Good thing or the volume Ria had set would force most into hiding. He stepped around T’talin and watched Ria. She swayed and danced, sometimes played the drums, a guitar or keyboard. Eyes closed, she totally abandoned herself to the music. She wore a skirt he’d found but no shirt. He could see sweat glistening on her torso.

Perhaps sorrow had been present in the earlier selections, but not now.

A song ended with a great guitar flourish and she stood still a moment, chest heaving. Then a new song began, something he knew. It made him smile, her era knew some classics. Not all of her choices were anchored in sadness.

He turned to T’talin. “Can I see what she’s been listening to. A list?”

“I can see it sent to your unit. She’s cried, screamed, laughed…”

“It’s perfectly normal, all things considered. I’ll bring her down. How long has she been immersed like this?”

“Six hours.”

“She must be ready to drop. Leave this to me.” He waited for the lyrics to begin, then took a step into the room. He carefully approached her, and let the music seep into him, wanting to match her mania with his own.

He laughed as she sang and when she turned to see him, he bent over his air guitar, running with the riffs. He glanced up, through the hair falling in front of his face. He’d noticed it grew too fast and too long than was natural. He normally tied it back, but this would work better with it loose, so he’d dropped the tie into his pocket. She smiled broadly at him, kept at her imaginary keyboard and the two of them rang every last bit of power out of “Bohemian Rhapsody”.