The Tower (24 page)

I suppose so, “but if you'd come down to this planet as yourselves, would that have been so bad?”

He shook his head. “All we would have to do is shape-shift and there would be panic, People would accuse of trying to replace those in power and take over your planet. Not so far-fetched an idea, I think.”

This was true. My planet had had its share of xenophobia, hatred, mass murder and it was still happening. “Your secret's safe with me,” I said, and meant it. What could I say? I owed them too much to betray them and even though I still felt a sense of being screwed over, I could understand, finally, why they'd done what they'd done. Other questions rattled around my brain.

“Those symbols on your computer…?”

“Our language,” he answered. “While the languages of this planet are actually very easy to learn, our own language, primitive as it may appear to you, is in reality very complex. We study it constantly so as not to forget our heritage.” And I should have realized something was wrong when I'd seen those ideograms on Ori's computer. Unaware once again, that was me.

“Do you have a real name? I can't really call you ‘Avenger' anymore, can I?”

“It's as good a name as any,” he replied. “Our real names…you couldn't pronounce them.” Alright, point to him. If I couldn't learn Spanish then it was pretty obvious I wouldn't be able to understand Actu-uran.

“What about your technology?”

“Highly advanced in physics, electronics, more. We can cure almost any illness, almost everything but death. That comes to all things, no matter what race. With you, as with others, to eradicate disease is the least we could do.”

“Thank you, I'm truly grateful.” I paused. “What about Oriana?”

He seemed pained to answer. “As I said before, this is as far as it goes between the two of you. Our portal device is almost ready to send you back, if you're ready. If Oriana continues seeing you, we'll have no choice but to execute her as a traitor to our race.” He looked at me, eyes full of anguish. “It is harsh, but it is the only law we have left to ensure the continuation of our species.”

Execute her, and then send me back as well
? Jesus, things were going from weird to bad to worse. “Send me back? What will happen if I return?”

“I can't answer that,” he said. “You're welcome to stay here, but as for Oriana, the answer is no. There are other females to choose from, either in this world or yours.”

“What if she went with me?”

He shook his head. “Our species may not be compatible with the vibratory patterns of your world. We could die. I'm not ready to risk that for any of us.”

“Even her?”

“Even her.” He stood up, looked off in the distance for a moment, turned to face me. “I'm returning to the Tower now. While I can't decide for you, I will give you three choices. I think you already know what I'm going to say. If you return to your world, and, given your physical condition I think it's your best option, then life here will continue as it always has, whether you approve of our methods or not. Should you decide to stay on at the Tower, then we'd, of course, be happy to have you continue in your job. I'd also like you to continue your studies with me, Deanna, and a few of the others. You have a quick mind and would be a credit to any profession you decide on.”

“Thank you.”
Some compliment
.

He continued. “The final choice is that since you and Oriana cannot be with each other, and if that is too painful for you emotionally, we will find you a suitable job on Earth along with sufficient funds so that you'll be able to live a decent life. Should you continue to need treatment for your condition that can also be arranged. After all you've done for us you deserve that, at the very least.”

We talked of other things: Aging, the adjustments they'd made, life on his home planet, and then it was time. He turned to leave. “There's another Dart on the far side of the forest. I've already pre-coded it to return to Earth or the Tower. Whichever option you decide on, simply type in your destination and the ship will switch to automatic guidance once you turn on the engines.”

“But what if…?” I started to say, and he cut me off.

“The choice is yours. If I don't hear from you within the hour, I'll make the arrangements on Earth. Think about it.” With that, he turned away, boarded the ship and lifted off.

I was alone.

More than ever, I felt like a prisoner on Death Row with my choice of how to be executed. Option A: Return to my dimension, possibly revert to my previous condition, in which case I was history.

Option B: Stay on Earth and never see my girlfriend again. I'd die of loneliness.

Finally, Option C: Stay on at the Tower but never be with Oriana again. No, no way could I ever do that. So it was either death by disease, death by loneliness, or death by imposed isolation.

All three options sucked.

Then I thought again of these people-cum-aliens I'd come to know. All they wanted to do was to survive and all they'd really done was to erase the memories of a few days from the populace. Ethically speaking, while that wasn't right, it was understandable. They hadn't turned anyone into slaves, hadn't interfered with politics and hadn't done anything except good.

But on the other hand, they'd lied to me and to the rest of Earth's population, and I was justifying their sin of omission by going along with it. They'd mind-wiped the planet and I seemed to be the only one who knew what was going on. Did that make me any better in the moral sense? I wasn't sure; who was I to judge?

Still, they could've let me die in order to keep their secret. They didn't. They could've continued to try and mind-wipe me. They didn't. I'd been given shelter, treatment, education, friendship, and yes, even love, and in many ways, they were all like the parents and friends I never had. Even though I'd outgrown my childhood fantasies, their basic tenets of decency, integrity and bravery were still important to me. And those virtues in and of themselves, were not bad, not bad in the least. If they could live with what they'd done, then so could I. My mind was now made up.

Walking back through the woods, I paused at the tombs to say a silent “Thanks” and laid the journal on top of Knower's grave, then went to the Dart and typed in “Tower” on the control panel and fired up the engines. I wanted to tell Avenger of my decision in person.

* * *

Back at the station, the Landing Bay was empty. I guess the shift change hadn't happened yet. The first thing I did was to go to my room to see if Oriana was still there; she was. The door was open and she'd just finished putting on her mask as I entered. She sat on the bed, made a small motion with her hand. Joining her, we sat together, not speaking for a few minutes.

At first, I thought about telling her how angry I'd felt when I learned their secret. She'd lied to me, but if love or some part of it meant forgiving something of this magnitude, then the least I could do was try to understand why she and all the others hadn't told the truth. And I did understand.

Finally, I put out my hand; her fingers entwined themselves tightly around mine. Her flesh was…flesh: Warm, soft, feminine, all too human.

But she was not.

“Oriana,” I began, “I'm sorry about what happened before. I didn't know. I'm not what you think I am.”

“I love you,” she said simply, looking at me. “Our species knows of love and affection, as does yours. Isn't that enough?” Her hand reached up to touch my face and this time I didn't shy away, just let her touch me gently and then took her hand and kissed it.

“Yes, but I'm human and…not one of you.”

Her face showed only acceptance. “I've always known,” she said quietly. “When I couldn't hear your signature,” she meant the bell sound, “I knew and understood. It never mattered.” I was right: She
did
love me.

“Avenger told me your race lives a long time. Just how old are you?”

“A little over two hundred years, in our terms; it's about twenty, in yours.”

“I always did have a thing for older women,” I opined. It was a lame joke at best, but it got a wan smile out of her.

Then she started to cry, silver tears coursing down her face. “I'm sorry I lied; I
had
to! I didn't know what you'd think or what you'd do if I'd shown you my real face,” she sobbed. “I've already lost one friend, I can't lose you!”

She was so achingly beautiful. What had happened before was it so bad, so terrible? I never thought I'd fall in love with a tree, but I had. Her flesh was flesh, in this form, she was human. She was lovely, she was someone I could love, someone I
did
love. I could not and would not give her up now. After a while, she stopped shuddering, turned her face to mine. Her kiss, that kiss, that was all that mattered.

“Avenger told you of our laws?” she asked. Like her leader, her speech had become more formal; I liked her old way of speaking better. I nodded.

“There's something else. I'm human,” I said. “But I'm also an alien…from another universe.”

“You're a crosser?” Her eyes widened in amazement. “I've heard rumors of them, but never actually met one.”

“Yeah, I came here by accident. They're almost ready to send me back.”

An expression of hope dawned on her face. “Take me with you. If I can't be with you in this universe, I'll be with you in yours.”

Regretting what I had to say next, I told her. “Oriana, in my world, I was just a kid, thirteen, sick and dying. If I go back, I might revert to what I was. And you may not be able to survive there, either. Here, I can more or less live a normal life…but I can't be with you.”

“Then take me with you,” she repeated. “I can't live here without you, either.

Decision time, option D. If she was willing to risk death, then so was I. The question remained—how to pull it off?

* * *

Just as we were getting ready to try and do what couldn't be done, the Tower shook violently. There was a pause, and then another massive wave of movement and then one more. Explosions! Both of us were thrown off the bed by the shockwaves; I ended up slamming into the wall and Oriana, ever the athlete, managed to twist in the air and land lightly on her feet.

“Are you okay?” Ori asked me.

“I'll live,” I answered, and slowly and painfully got to my feet. Good old leukemia, acting up again….

She signaled into her earcom, “Oriana. What's going on?” She repeated the question, and then switched to her native tongue: Harsh, raspy and coarse, like the sound of a toilet flushing and a curse mixed together. English was better, I thought. She then checked her wall-monitor, fingers dancing over the small keypad. “The blast was in two storage rooms on one of the lower decks,” she said, “and another one at the top of the Tower. No personnel in any of the rooms at the time.”

“Was there any decompression?” I asked.

“No, that would be pretty much impossible,” she responded. “The walls are a mixture of Advanium and steel, it would take something a lot stronger to crack the glass. And I know that there wasn't anything like chemicals in there, just food and some other paper supplies. I'm gonna check to see if there was any more damage.”

She took one more look-see on her monitor and then we decided to see if anyone was hurt. Outside, the lights were down, and then the emergency generator kicked in and the hallway got a bit brighter. All seemed to be okay for the moment, except…except no sounds. No techs. No Ultras, just an eerie silence. I remembered that the Landing Bay had been empty when I'd disembarked but hadn't thought it odd.

I started to say something, but Oriana shushed me and we crept along the corridors, looking for signs of life, checking each room; all of them were empty. We checked all the rooms on every deck up to the eighth. No Ultras and no regular staff. Finally, we made our way to the Main Bridge. What the hell was going on here?

My girlfriend scanned the computer. The explosions had taken out Storage Room #12 on Deck 12, Storage Room #2 on Deck 9 and Storage Room #3 on the deck where the

Justice Room was located. All of them held only a few supplies.

She then signaled Pleasure World and there was no answer. No other Ultras replied to her repeated queries. The computer's message kept flashing “Emergency Power Activated—Emergency Power Activated” over and over again. What—or who—could've done this? No aliens, other than the ones I'd been living with, were on the Tower. Unless they were invisible….

I slipped on something, one of Mr. W's stun bombs. Why had he dropped it and where were the other stun-cookies? And where was he? I absently shoved the disc into my uniform's pocket, reminding myself to return it later on.

Then I saw movement from behind a corner, a flash of purple and black. Oh, hell, it couldn't be! Before I could react…THWOK! I saw stars…flashing lights…and just before passing out, I was left with the image of Wildcard grinning and Oriana was toppling over.

Darkness.

“Unghh.” I came to slowly, swimming up to consciousness in a sea of pain. As my eyes pulled themselves into focus, I saw that I was in a storage room. Shook my head to clear it; bad move. My skull hurt, felt caved in, putting my hand to where the pain was, it came away bloody. Maybe a concussion—my vision was all blurry, and then it cleared a little.

“Wakey, wakey!” a voice sang out. Lifting my head I saw Wildcard's grinning mug. “You alright? Wouldn't want you to miss out on the fun!” He chortled a bit.

“Fun?”

“Billy-boy,” he said, pulling up a chair to sit across from me, “you are the reason for my resurrection. I was trapped in that tunnel for well over a year, just waiting for a chance to have a little enjoyment once more and now I can. And it's all due to you.” His grin got a bit wider. “You have no idea of how frustrated I was when I couldn't do my thing and now I'm free again, happy as a clam. Thank you.”