Contact

by M. D. Neu

  Struggling to lean forward and rest his head on Dan’s shoulder, Todd lay there crying, hindered by the equipment that monitored him. He wanted to rip it from his body. What was the point? If what Dan said was true nothing mattered anymore.

  “Todd, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.” Dan’s voice broke. “Your parents–”

  Todd opened his eyes, seeing his family by the door.

  His mother rushed over and wrapped her arms around him. “Todd, honey, it’s Mom.” The hug pulled at the tubes in his arms, and it hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain of losing Jerry. She kissed his forehead. His father and brother silently moved over to the bed and sat as he cried. He didn’t know how long the tears flowed.

  “Oh baby, it’s good to see you’re awake.” His mother reached for his free hand and held it. “We’re so sorry. It’s been awful. Jerry’s such a wonderful… We met his parents, the Bakers; they’re here too. We’ve been worried about you.”

  His mother checked him and fussed over him, adjusting the blankets.

  He burned on the inside; pain and anger pumped through his veins. He wanted to lash out, but it wasn’t their fault. He stayed quiet, burying it.

  “They left a little while ago to get some rest.” His mother continued to rub his arm. “We’ve been taking shifts.”

  Her voice became shaky, the strength draining away. “Even your coworkers have been here off and on.” His mom’s soft cheeks lifted in an exhausted smile. “We finally had to send Katherine… Kati…home. She wouldn’t leave your side. I think the hospital staff was happy to see her go. She’d been hard on the poor nurses. I felt sorry for them.” His mom turned to Dan. “Dan finally managed to get her to leave.”

  Dan’s forced smile lifted a bit more.

  Slowly, Todd came around, as more of his new reality became clear. He wiped the tears from his eyes as best he could, even though they still fell. “This isn’t happening. Mom? Civilized people don’t act like this. We don’t act like this. No one acts like this, blowing things up. They weren’t hurting anyone. They just got here. Why would anyone do this? We don’t do this; there has to be a mistake.” He bit at his lips, the lack of hair as unfamiliar as the reality he was being forced to understand. He needed someone to tell him this was a nightmare.

  He turned to his father. “Dad. Please tell me this isn’t happening?”

  “I wish I could,” his father said. “What’s important now is that you get better.” He glanced at Dan. “Do you mind giving us a minute?”

  Quickly and quietly, Dan got up from the bed. “I’ll see you later. Don’t worry about anything. I’ve been taking care of things for you.” He rubbed Todd’s hand awkwardly. “Is there anything you want me to bring from home?”

  Todd’s mind was empty. “No, Dan, thank you.”

  Dan moved to the door right as the nurse walked in. “Excellent, Mister Landon, you’re awake. Brad, Mister and Missus Landon, how are you today?” The nurse scanned Todd’s charts and went on checking the monitors and readouts.

  “We’re much better now, Cora,” his mother said.

  “Now that Toddy’s awake,” Brad said. “The little faker was starting to make us worry.”

  Cora didn’t glance up from her paperwork. “Very good.” She smiled. “I’ll tell the doctor you’re awake. I’m sure she’ll want to see you.” She continued absentmindedly tending to the machines around Todd. “Well Mister Landon, now that the worst is over, once I confirm with the doctor, we can feed you real food. How’s that sound? Is there something special you’d like?”

  “I’m not hungry,” Todd managed to say. He was giving as much attention to her as she was to him.

  “The doctor will be by later to see how you’re doing.” She checked her watch and made a few notes on the chart. “Mister Landon, everyone’s been asking about you. People will be excited to hear how you’re doing. You should eat. What about some soup?”

  “I don’t want anything!”

  She placed the clipboard in the hanger at the foot of Todd’s bed. Her pleasant smile faded. “Of course. Well, ring the bell if you need anything.”

  He stared at her with a blank expression as she left the room.

  Todd’s father was pale, and his eyes were red. The creases on his face were deeper than they had ever been. “This is a lot for you right now, and, well, we’re happy you’re okay and getting better, but don’t get angry with the nurses. They’ve been amazing and are just doing their job.”

  Todd was silent.

  I don’t know what I need. I don’t know what’s happening. I need someone to tell me this isn’t real.

  “Todd, we’re so proud of you.” His dad started speaking faster, and his voice shifted, becoming louder to fill the space. “There’s been people from the White House checking on you. Even President Zachary called. Twice.” He raised up two fingers. “The Nentraee…well, the Nentraee are amazing. They’ve offered to use all their resources to help find out who did this; even their medical teams have offered to help us. To help you. Boy, they were pissed; they have zero tolerance for this sort of thing. Like any civilized people. The government has the city on lockdown for now. But, the news is saying that it was a bunch of lone-wolf types—anarchists. But if the people at fault are found alive, the Nentraee asked if they can prosecute them per their law. I don’t think that will happen, but who’s to say? Right? It’s still pretty fresh right now.”

  Todd focused on his father. Anything to get his mind off Jerry.

  “No one has taken credit yet, the bastards, and several countries and terror groups have come out with very strong condemnation statements about the attack. The reaction has been unlike anything before.”

  With a stern glance from his mom, Todd’s dad stopped.

  Brad turned to Todd. He picked up a few of the cards and started telling Todd about the people from around the world who had sent him well wishes and other things. Todd was barely listening to any of it. His thoughts were on Jerry and how empty his whole body was right now.

  I never got to see him. I never got to say goodbye.

  “Saving Vice Speaker Mi’ko Soemu is a big deal,” Brad said. “It got worldwide attention. They finally had to stop sending these to your room and bring in security.” Brad held up a card. “The hospital is holding them for you until later if you want them.” His lips raised to a grin. “We’re so proud of you and what you did. You’re amazing, totally amazing.”

  Staring at them as they continued to talk at him, Todd’s mind couldn’t focus. They told him about his condition. How after the explosion, when he blacked out, he was pulled from the wreckage and taken to the closest trauma center for treatment. The doctors had to remove glass and debris from his back and his leg. He had a leg fracture and some very deep cuts. Luckily, none of his arteries had been cut, and they were able to patch him up. There would be some scars but no permanent debilitation.

  Todd needed time to process. All he wanted was for Jerry to be with him, talk sense to him, but Jerry wouldn’t be there. Todd’s rock was blown to bits.

  Attempting to swallow, but with no saliva, he still managed to speak. “It was just a reaction. Mi’ko was sitting there; I saw the flash and covered him,” his voice was shallow and gravelly. He scanned his body: his stomach was caved in, any definition in his chest now gone, and his legs were covered in bandages. That was nothing compared to the emptiness in his heart.

  “Is there something we can get for you? Do you need anything? Are you in pain?” his mother asked again.

  “Dammit! Quit asking me that. Unless you can bring Jerry back, I don’t want anything.”

  Jerry. I need Jerry.

  Todd turned to his mother, seeing the hurt and the pain on her face, on all their faces. “I…I need time to digest this. I’m sorry. I really want to be alone right now. I…I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I need time to myself to process.”

  “Of course,” Brad said. “Come on, let’s give Toddy some air. We’ll come
and see you later.” He stood up and motioned toward the door.

  Brad pulled at his mother’s arm to stop her fussing. She fixed Todd’s hair, then the pillow. Finally, Brad got her to move.

  “Take care, Button,” his dad managed to say as he walked to the door.

  “Get some rest, honey,” his mother whispered.

  She was on the brink of tears, and Todd realized she would cry once she was out of his sight.

  “Listen, Toddy, I expect you up and out of that bed when we come back. None of this being lazy crap. Landons aren’t lazy SOBs.” Brad’s voice cracked.

  Todd lay there, gazing at the window. He replayed his and Jerry’s last phone call. He always said, “I love you,” but he couldn’t remember doing it this time. Did he? Three words and he couldn’t remember saying them once that day.

  Seventeen: The Choices We Make

  THE TREES SWAYED in the breeze outside of Mi’ko’s window. His family’s living quarters had an amazing view of the ship’s gardens with its tall trees, fields, and small stream. That was something his people got right, making sure that the living quarters had a view of nature from their long-since-destroyed home world. The idea of modifying their quarters to allow for a balcony was something he and Laina had discussed. However, with both their jobs and their lack of time, there was no need to waste the resources for such a luxury.

  It might be nice.

  He inhaled a deep breath, clearing his thoughts. The view from his office mocked him. The little blue planet that they had attempted to work with, and where they had put all their hopes, sat there taunting him. He could no longer look at that world.

  Mi’ko had decided to come home. His thoughts still plagued him. His people had wanted to work with the humans, tried to create an alliance with them, and an attack on his life was how they responded.

  His arm and chest were still bandaged. The medical attention on Earth was adequate, but he was relieved when his own doctors examined his injuries. Plus, he wanted to be with his family, mainly his wife. Laina would put up a strong front. In reality, his family soothed him more than he soothed them.

  A stabbing pain ran up his arm as he moved to fix the tieback in his hair. He hated it unkempt, falling to the sides and covering his ears. Even if he couldn’t get the bow to sit right, he wanted it tied. It was disrespectful to have unkempt hair. This time, the bow had come completely out, and he wouldn’t ask for assistance. There were some things a male had to do on his own.

  After a second failed attempt, he tossed the bow on his desk, frustrated. His hair bounced off his neck and ears.

  His thoughts flashed to the lost Nentraee; Weaqu and GanCee’s remembrances were pleasant enough, and both were recognized with commendations by the Speaker’s House. All the others dead in the attack, including the two members of the House of the People and the son of General Gahumed La-Enn, were given the same honor. Weaqu and GanCee were so much more than his aides; they were friends, almost family, and his heart ached for them.

  “Why would they do such a thing?” he protested to the empty chair.

  That planet, those creatures, they’re not ready for us. They aren’t ready for the opportunities we bring to each other.

  He didn’t want to recognize this at first; none of them did. His gaze fell; that wasn’t completely true. General Gahumed did. She realized something like this would happen.

  The barbarism is too much to overlook. Our people are in mourning, calling on us to leave. More extreme Nentraee want retaliation—blood for blood.

  His own thoughts joined those that wanted to leave this solar system. All their worries and concerns had played out.

  Again, a twinge of pain plagued his arm. He turned back to his device so he could work on this declaration. It would be taken to the Speaker’s House for approval, and when passed, it would be presented to the speaker general for final ratification. His jaw tightened and quivered.

  It’s as good as done.

  Still, he struggled to finalize it. Mirtoff couldn’t write the declaration herself. It had to come from a member of the Speaker’s House. After Mi’ko had talked with her, they agreed it would be best for him to write it, taking into account her comments and wishes. The declaration had to come from the one who had been the target of the attack.

  Yes, General Gahumed lost her son and was pushing to write the declaration, but it was because of her anger she could not provide it. Gahumed wanted blood and would try to push for a military response. It would, without doubt, lead to war. A war the humans would lose, and then what? The humans would have a ruined world, and his people would be responsible for genocide.

  His declaration was to cease ties with the humans and leave their world at once.

  He stood and began to pace. “We shouldn’t have come to Earth,” he muttered through his scowl. It was in the best interest of everyone to go, and Mirtoff agreed.

  Mi’ko marched back to his desk and sat. “Such a waste.” He marked the document as he continued to review it. Each edit to the declaration caused his posture to crumple.

  The door to his office slid open revealing Laina dressed in a rich white gown with hints of gold throughout. The lightweight gown played on her dark features and her pure green eyes. Her hair was wrapped up with gentle wisps falling along the sides of her face.

  So beautiful.

  He offered her a slight bow.

  “You’re working too hard, and I won’t have it,” Laina said. “We’ve discussed this already. The doctors said you should rest. Now come to bed. It’s late.” She brushed a tuft of hair off her face.

  Mi’ko put the declaration down. “My work can’t wait. The speaker general is expecting it, and as vice speaker, it’s—”

  She cut him off with a motion of her hand. “You could have died, Mi. Then what would we have done?”

  Things can’t wait.

  “Our children still need you despite them being out of emisaration, and you need your rest.” The ends of her mouth went flat. “I understand how important your work is. But with all that happened, you need the break. That’s final.” Her face was tight with worry. “This silly declaration of yours will wait. Now come to bed.”

  “Silly?”

  “Yes, Mi, silly. Your health is more important. Anything our speaker general needs will keep until you are healed.”

  Mi’ko dodged her gaze as he spoke. “I know, my love. I do, but our people, this planet was a mistake. They’re too violent. The attack happened in one of their most secure and stable countries. In a city that has never seen violence on this scale.”

  “You have to rest. Your body is still healing.”

  “No.” He banged his hands on his desk, his ears warming. “I’m bringing forth a motion to leave here before more of our people die. This was our fault as much as theirs; we should have never come here.”

  Her frown turned to worry.

  “We should have never trusted them to protect us.” Mi’ko’s tone softened. “I should have never forced our people into going to that reception. General Gahumed La-Enn is infuriated and more distraught than I’ve ever seen her. I can’t blame her. She lost her only son. Her only child. What if it was Mi’cin, Hir-shif, or Hir-ko?”

  Laina’s voice was calm. “It wasn’t them. Instead, it was almost you. If not for that human, you would not be here.”

  Mi’ko picked up the tieback and tried again to retie his hair. An angry bolt of pain stopped him.

  Laina stepped away from the door and allowed it to close as she glided over and tied his hair back for him. “My husband, ask for help when you need it. Don’t be like other males. There is no need to be so proud when we are in private.” She sat on the edge of his desk, and lifted his chin with her hand. “This human who saved you…doesn’t that hold any weight in your debate? Even your own security escort was saved by him. What does that say about the humans?”

  “My love, both Mirtoff and I are in full agreement. We will be leaving this place. It will be announced tomorr
ow. Maybe someday when they mature, we’ll come back.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and her lips pinched ever so slightly. “Mi, you can’t be serious. Am I the only one to see logic? Mirtoff is agreeing to this rash decision?”

  He nodded.

  “Our people died. I understand, but so did theirs,” Laina said. “We have to stay; we can’t run away. Not from this; not like frightened Yéps. We have nowhere to go, and the ships—”

  “We’ll find another place.”

  “Our fleet won’t last, and if the ships do, for how long?” she asked. “Even with the repairs, we are able to make here. It almost took all our resources to get here, and we don’t have enough to find a new planet. Being on Earth is a risk we must take. We have no choice.”

  Mi’ko rubbed his bandaged arm. “They blew up their own people to kill us. To kill me: they murdered over a thousand, they destroyed a part of a city, and their government claims to have found them all. They say it was an isolated group.”

  She shook her head.

  “They have no respect for life,” Mi’ko said. “Outwardly, they accept our help to investigate, but they block us at all opportunities. The ones responsible killed themselves in the attack. How can we work with these beings when they would sacrifice themselves like that? What if one of them comes to a ship and blows it up? How many more are out there?”

  He turned away from her and saw the trees again; they seemed so calm. “They are cowards and barbarians. We can’t risk more of our people’s lives. Their history is riddled with these kinds of acts.”

  Laina huffed.

  “No.” Mi’ko’s voice raised, but there was no color in the tips of his ears. “We must leave. We have no choice in the matter. We can find more resources on the way, as we have in the past.” He massaged his ears. A hint of disappointment was directed toward himself as well.

  “No Mi, you’re wrong. You forget the human who saved you and the others who rushed in to help. Hundreds. They were everyday people—people who risked their lives to help us.”

  “My love—”

  “Mi, listen to me,” Laina interrupted. “They didn’t run away from the danger; they ran toward it. You didn’t see them, but we saw the images play out live for all to see. That was no act of cowardice. Their people reacted with outrage; it was monumental. They are as angry as we are. If anything, this attack has made many of them more resolute. Even stronger. To leave would be an insult to those who died. How will they be able to greet J’Veesa then?” She touched the side of his face with her hand, forcing him to turn back to her.