Second Chances (123 page)

Nicole shrugged. Sandra frowned thoughtfully. She turned as Anne came in. “Is Mitch up for visitors yet? We've got a lot of people wanting to make sure he's still kicking,” Anne said.

“No. Not for a while,” Sandra said instinctively. Nicole glanced her way and then nodded to Sandra.

“All right,” Anne said. “Is he...”

Nicole cleared her throat when Sandra looked at her expectantly. “He's stable. We think he'll make a full recovery,” Nicole said.

“Oh thank god,” Anne said fervently. “Thank you, Jesus,” she said, closing her eyes in prayer. “He's such a good man. But to lose...” she wiped at her eyes angrily.

“I know,” Sandra said, taking her into her arms. She hugged Anne, then helped her to sit. “Anne, any word from Phyllis?”

Anne looked up and then shook her head. “No. They tried the security records but the files don't go back that far. They checked the trash but the cup...” she shrugged.

“Witnesses?” Sandra asked.

“They are leery about asking too many questions and tipping whoever did this off,” Anne said.

Sandra frowned thoughtfully. “So they do think it was deliberate?”

Anne nodded. “Hejira's pretty sure. Ducky too. That plant was from the tropics. We don't have it here at all. It can't survive our environment. Its growth was explosive too.”

“I see.”

“And they couldn't have picked it up from outside. Vance hasn't gone anywhere. Mitch went as far as Dunn's, but that was before the infestation. As you know, Cassie never went further than East.”

“Jaden came up with the chief, but Tisha was with us. Yes, it doesn't make sense,” Tina said, coming into the room. “Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear.”

“Not a problem,” Sandra said. “We're going to need security here. Discrete. Robots maybe, definitely video.”

“Why?”

“I'm thinking Mitch was the target. I know we don't want to believe what he said about...Ciara,” she said between gritted teeth. “But we can't take it lightly either. Someone wanted him dead. The others were just in the way.”

“So, we're going to need to be very careful about what visitors he's allowed to have,” Nicole said with a nod. “And what he eats or drinks,” she said.

“Exactly,” Sandra said. Anne nodded.

------*------

With Mitch sick and a possible outbreak on their hands, most of the delegates had decided to postpone the conference until they knew if he was better or not. A few wanted to leave, but all wanted to know if Chambers and Cassie would survive. Speculation was rampant on how the five could have been infested.

A spring storm front moved in, the heavy rain, lightening, and stiff winds grounded the aircraft for the time being. Everyone had to grudgingly settle in to wait it out. Anne tried to entertain them, having Leanne and the other entertainers perform impromptu concerts, as well as turning a few people loose on their electronic library. Rabbi Weiss took a liking to some of the books right away.

Eventually, if only to keep boredom at bay and to feel somewhat productive, Evan restarted discussions on the aborted constitution project. They took one amendment at a time, picking it apart in the great room over coffee. Their discussions were overheard, and others came to listen, and then eventually to add their ideas.

Evan thought that it was a testament to Mitch that they were finally making progress on that front. He just hoped his friend would live to see its eventual conclusion.

Chapter 54

Mitch saw bright lights through his closed eyelids and heard a familiar buzzing. Something brushed at his face like a fly; he waved it off. Eventually the persistent buzzing and bright lights forced him to consciousness.

“Yes?” he demanded. He looked up and wasn't surprised to see the Memes there. “Checking up on me?”

One of the smaller Memes pulsed close to him. Fought the urge to look away. He couldn't understand how celebrities could put up with flash photography and blinding lights.
“Query misunderstood. Error. Checking on you personally negative.”

“But you were checking up on the planet.”

“Affirmative,”
the alien said as Dora came running into the room. She looked up and stared at the alien apparition.

“Dora,” Mitch said. She didn't respond so he snapped his fingers. When that didn't work he threw his pillow. She blinked, instinctively dodging it. “Go get Sandra,” he ordered.

She nodded and moved to leave. “And find me some clothes!” Mitch called after her.

“You're presence is required in the room where others of your species are gathering,”
the Meme said. A second and then a third popped in the air with bright flashes. Mitch put his arm up instinctively to ward off the flare of blinding light.

“Okay, well, I'm not quite ready yet. I'm guessing the satellite made you sit up and take notice?”

“...query not understood. Error. The Conclave does not sit.”

“It's a metaphor,” Mitch said. “But you didn't answer the question. Did the object in orbit of this planet make you take notice and induce this contact?”

The alien construct buzzed for a bit, then tentacles flashed. Mitch watched them for a moment.
“Affirmative.”

“Thought so,” Mitch said smugly, sitting back with his hands tucked behind his head. He realized he lacked a pillow so he used the controls to prop his body up. He looked over at the door as Dora and Sandra came in at a trot. “Honey, I guess they didn't get your memo about visiting hours. It's okay; we need to talk anyway I suppose,” he said.

“The whole place is going ape-shit Mitch,” Sandra said, coming in but staring up at the aliens. Mitch snorted.

“Come on. Help me get dressed,” he said, pushing the hand rail out of the way so he could slide his feet off the bed. He wiggled his toes. “I'll need clothes,” he said, looking pointedly at Dora.

“You aren't...” Sandra caught herself when he looked at her. She sighed. “Fine. But in a wheelchair,” she warned, holding up a finger. He nodded.

------*------

The Meme's sudden arrival surprised everyone at the conference. Mitch was wheeled in with a cloud of small alien forms dancing over his head. “Everything has to happen at once,” Sandra muttered, looking around the room. When they got into the room the smaller aliens dispersed into the swarm of larger beings.

“It never rains but it pours. We'll take it one thing at a time,” Mitch said to her absently. He looked over to Colonel Dunn and Ciara, but they like everyone else was staring at the aliens floating near the ceiling. One drifted down over Mitch and seemed to trace his form with its tentacles.

“You are not well, one designated Mitch Chambers,”
the small Meme eventually said. It drifted, slowly twisting in the air.

“I'm getting better,” Mitch replied.

“Confirmed. You're bioform has stabilized. No trace of alien parasite remains in your body.”

“Well, thank you for the concern. And I personally am glad we've got that confirmation,” Sandra murmured softly. He looked up to her with a smile. “I can rest easier at night,” she said. “Well, half easier.” He nodded.

Dunn felt alarm when the aliens mentioned Mitch had been ill. He darted a look at Ciara. She shook her head slowly no. He tried to force himself to relax, to think of anything but Chambers.

Mitch caught the look and the look between Bob and Ciara. His eyes narrowed as speculation blossomed in his mind. Ciara caught him looking and looked away. She said something to her husband about going to the bathroom and then excused herself. Miles looked at her go briefly, frowning in apparent concern before his attention was inevitably drawn back to the aliens.

Fortunately for Ciara the aliens distracted Mitch from investigating or confronting her. They bobbed and weaved over their heads in a dance.

“Are they going to transport us again?” Sandra murmured. “I hate that.”

“I don't...know. No, I don't think so,” Mitch said as Tucker came running in. He jumped in his father's lap. “Have you been good?” Mitch asked. His son nodded enthusiastically. “Good boy,” he said. He manhandled his son onto one knee and then pointed up to the aliens. “We've got visitors,” he said.

“Earth. How is Earth? Ask them about Earth,” Helen asked in a stage whisper.

“Your home planet is functional,”
one of the Memes said, bobbing over her head. She gasped and looked up in surprise. “Accessing...from the nature of your inquiry you wish to understand if your species specifically is still functional. Answer, affirmative.”

“Are they making any progress on halting the asteroid?” Mitch asked.

“Query logged. Current answer, no.”

“Damn.”

“We have noticed a population discrepancy. You aren't reproducing at the same rate as the other human groups. Why?”
One of the Memes asked.

“Why...oh, you mean pregnancies?” Janet asked. “Hey, I did my part,” she said, spreading her hands.

“Affirmative.”

“Did you compare those demographics to deaths?” Mitch asked. “Or to the tech level?”

“Negative. Accessing. Correlation. The number of deaths is lower here despite a recent increase. Confirm.”

“Yes. The reason is the tech and culture. Agriculture versus tech. In this case we have access to birth control which makes it a
choice
to reproduce,” Sandra said in a firm voice, stepping in. “It is also a cultural thing. Some cultures insist on breeding as often as possible; others choose the timing and limit the number. But I have a bone to pick with you...”

“Sandra, honey, now may not be the best time,” Mitch warned, tugging her arm.

“Now or never,” she said, looking briefly down to him and then back up to the aliens. “Why did you tamper with our reproduction and our DNA?”

The Memes didn't respond for a few seconds, making Mitch wonder if his wife had taken the issue too far.
“To preserve your genetics. You are classified as inheritors,”
a large Meme finally said.

“But you did this after you stated we are inheritors correct?” Sandra demanded. “Altering our reproduction to only produce clones of one parent or the other.”

“Affirmative.”

“We have no security footage of you in here,” Phyllis said.

“We did the alterations in a different physical plane beyond the ability of your crude devices to see.”

“Beyond the electromagnetic spectrum? But you aren't immune to interaction with physical objects?” Evan frowned thoughtfully. “A cloak?”

“That is an incorrect assumption.”

“Then what...how...”

“Discussion point judged irrelevant at current time period. Confirmation of inheritor status but discrepancy in homeworld status. Further evaluation performed after previous encounter has alerted the Conclave to a second extinction level event. One of your specie's making. This has caused a serious breach in protocol.”

“They are certainly falling in love with that word aren't they?” Anne murmured. “Explain?” She asked, pitching voice up to the aliens. “Second extinction level event? The other wasn't due to happen for what, another sixteen years?”

“Fifteen,” Mitch said. “I think they refer to the greenhouse effect. Climate change.”

“Oh bullshit. Don't get them started on that crap,” Colonel Dunn growled in disgust. Mitch shot him a look.

“Error compounded. Your species is exporting the same chemicals in vast quantities here, polluting this planet,”
one of the Memes said.

“You're talking about carbon dioxide. We exhale it when we breathe. It's a...byproduct of our biology,” Sandra said.

“Incorrect. The amount is due to other means,”
the alien buzzed.

“He's talking about burning wood, coal and using fuel,” Jack said, frowning.

“Hell if I'm going to stop doing that. The winter's here are cold!” John Duster snarled. “No one said we couldn't!”

“Apparently now they are,” Mitch said.

“Query confirmation required. If this technology is removed, would your reproduction meet goals?”

“I'm not sure what goals you mean,” Mitch said. “And to answer the question, no. By removing our technology, you would doom our species to the aliens and dinosaurs here on the planet. We aren't built to survive this environment with the flora and fauna on it without technical support.”

“Or we would be forced to burn a lot more wood and add a great deal of pollution to the atmosphere in our own defense,” Evan said hastily. Mitch looked his way. The professor shrugged.

“Simulation requires further study. Reproduction is still an issue.”