“Enough. I think it’s time you let me fuss over the babies—if we can pry them away from their fan club.”
They both turned to watch the minions that crowded the nursery fussing over the babies. Every minion that could get a finger in edgewise was stroking an infant, and the babies gloried in the attention.
Bonnie and Daisy rose happily, completely absorbed in the adoration of Peter and the other infants, just as offspring are worshipped and admired the universe over.
“Can I?” asked Daisy. She looked up at Bonnie for permission. Bonnie picked up her son, anxious minions hanging on until the last second. She placed Peter in the arms of her friend, seeing the look of longing on the face of a young woman that clearly knew she may never experience the singular joy of having a child of her own.
After Daisy left to find Hud, Bonnie sat to rock Peter. The room still fluttered with minions but Bonnie was so used to them by now that she just ignored their attentions.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a streak of fire. In a blink, Ivey stood in front of her, the fire butterfly that lived on her crystal antlers sending streaks of firelight up toward the ceiling.
“Hello, my Sister. I have been missing you.”
Bonnie gave a gentle tightening of her lips, her energy drained from another stressful day.
“Do you not feel well, Sister?”
Bonnie shook her head. “Just a little blue, Ivey.”
The minion gave Bonnie a thorough inspection. “I do not see the blue, Sister. Perhaps you are having trouble with your eyes?”
Bonnie laughed. “I sure am happy to see you back, Ivey. No one cheers me up like you do.”
Ivey’s aura brightened as she preened at the compliment. “You cheer me up too, Sister. I thought only of you on my last mission. Are you ready to marry me yet?”
Bonnie laughed out loud. “You never give up, do you, Ivey?”
Thinking she’d done something to make Bonnie agree, Ivey hopped from foot to foot and waved her arms. Her aura spiked in colors and busts of light. “You will not be sorry, Sister. We will be very happy together. Oh and with the baby too.” She patted Peter’s blanket. “I can’t wait to share the news.” She reached up on her toes and gave Bonnie a hug. “But first I must give you a surprise to show how much I love you.” Without further comment, she took to the air and flew off. Bonnie was left speechless, her mouth hanging open. Uh oh . . . I think it’s time to speak to Netty and Forbation. What in the world have I done?
***
Jose hurriedly dumped his waste collection into the tube that would carry it to be sorted into various useful components, even fertilizer that would be sent to Kane to distribute to the crops in his care. Nothing went to waste on Oolaha. He wouldn’t be surprised if some of the waste wasn’t recycled into the pillow on which he lay his head every night. He grinned to himself. Yes, the pillow that transported him into the best sleep he’d ever had. Not to mention the best dreams. He grinned again with the salacious memories then blushed as he remembered how Leeja had taken him into her lithe arms last night as he dreamed.
Jose straightened, adjusting the contamination suit that pinched him under the arms and in the crotch. I think I need to have an anatomy lesson with the minions that make these suits. He discreetly tugged at the wedgie in his rear.
Glancing around, he saw minions attending to the needs of those who were held captive. He’d seen many come and go in the spheres since he began working here. But not Leeja. In the beginning, he’d been cautioned to stay away from her enclosure and he had, for she resided in the one off-limits enclosure that Doodiet had said was the most dangerous, the one tucked away past the storage area. Jose had honestly tried to give his insipid responsibilities the earnest attention everyone demanded. But he had become a captive of his dreams. Of the call of Leeja.
He had decided to find a way to see her. It hadn’t taken long. Once he convinced the minions he worked with that he was trustworthy, they left him to his own devices. Doodiet came to check on him once or twice a week. She’d even informed him he was welcome to return to his old bedroom with the rest of the survivors.
Jose puffed up his chest. Oh, no . . . never. Not with his Leeja here. He needed to be as close to her as possible. He might not be able to be with her physically now and the dreams would need to suffice, but every once in a while, he was able to see her in the flesh.
When he remembered the first time, his heart beat wildly and his blood pounded in his ears. He’d been on his way to collect the waste from her enclosure, which was on the other side of the room from where it would normally be found. A mild inconvenience and disappointing since it forced him to avoid passing the front of Leeja’s glass block. As he navigated the waste tubes, he made up his mind. If no one was about, he would walk up to the glass and take a bold peek.
Heading back, he heard the fluttering of minions overhead. Obviously hellbent on their own destinations, they paid no attention to him. Swiftly scanning the floor around him, he realized he was alone. It was now or never.
He hurriedly made for the front of the glass box. Peering in, he noticed a lithe figure swaying. He swiped his arm across the glass to clear the grime. Moving forward again, he was startled by the face that plastered itself to the glass. It was Leeja. Holy shit, he thought. She’s human. Jose’s mind was a blank as he feasted his eyes on the lovely face and scads of thick, wavy blond hair that fell in swathes to cover most of her body, including her feet. He caught faint glimpses of impudent breasts as they peeked through the mass of hair that draped them.
They lied. Doodiet lied to me. Could I have misunderstood? Jose pondered. Should I mention this to Netty and Wil? Did they know? Another human survivor is huge news. Jose watched as she opened her mouth and smiled at him, then she lifted a slender hand with extraordinarily long fingers, and waved tentatively. Falling under her spell, he scanned the area, then waved back. He could see she was moving her lips. He shrugged and pointed to his ears, shaking his head. She continued to move her lips again, frustration waltzing over her face. He held up his hands and shrugged his shoulders. She dropped her hands as a blank expression bloomed on her face. To his consternation, tears dripped from her eyes as she mouthed a lone two words.
Help me.
Jose rocked back on his heels. There was no missing the message. He banged against the thick safety glass, but no sound was forthcoming. Having gotten her attention anyway, he watched as she held her hands together as if in prayer and placed them under the side of her face as if to sleep. She then pointed to him then to herself, raising an eyebrow. She wants to know if I’ll sleep with her. She then pointed to her mouth and motioned to him and back to herself. Oh . . . she wants to talk when I go to bed.
That’s when Jose realized the erotic woman in his dreams was none other than Leeja. She had been communicating with him. How the heck did she learn to do that? And why is she here in this restricted area? Something’s fishy. Knowing anything was possible on Oolaha, Jose accepted her wondrous talent and began to live for his nocturnal dreams.
For that was where they made love; slow and tender, rising to the frenzy of passion that always concluded as he awoke the next morning. It would end with him promising to obtain her release. Exactly how to achieve this continued to elude him. For if he were to release her without permission, they would be in major trouble and definitely punished. Who knew what Forbation might do to them?
He knew the airlocks were never locked. The only way in was from the outside, for the handles were only on the outside. Yet, working in the restricted area was his last chance to be accepted back into his group of survivors. Perhaps, if he could make himself indispensable, a fearless and committed worker, maybe he could go to Forbation to ask this favor.
Just imagine what a hero he would be if he could bring another human into their group. He pushed the nagging question of why she was here to begin with to the back of his mind.
But it would take time. He must first do the ha
rd work. In the meantime, he would have plenty of opportunity to get to know Leeja better. If he could just figure out how they could talk through the glass.
Jose’s thoughts returned to the present. He longed to show up at Daisy’s party tonight with Leeja on his arm. But deep in his heart he knew something must be wrong if Leeja was kept in the glass enclosure.
But maybe they’re just keeping her here to study her communication powers. Maybe they want to see if she inherited them from them. We are descended from them, after all.
A ruckus sounded from the airlock entrance. Jose turned to see Daisy enter with Hud and Doodiet who began to show them around. He hurried over before Doodiet spotted where he was.
Wrapping his arms around Daisy, he lifted her off her feet.
“I am so happy to see you back, kiddo.”
Daisy shrieked with laughter. Jose set her back down to watch Doodiet who was clapping her hands together and hopping from foot to foot, enjoying the excitement of their antics.
“I’m happy to be back too, Jose.” She smoothed down her smock and readjusted it over the layers of cartilage at her neck. Doodiet’s eyes gleamed, sending flashes of gold in their direction followed by her aura.
“I want to be a kiddo, too.” She held her hands up to Jose to be lifted in the air as he had done to Daisy.
Jose stepped back. “Kiddo is just an expression, Doodiet. It’s slang for kid.” Doodiet’s arms continued to reach out, her fingers wiggling in anticipation. Sighing, Jose reached down and gave the tiny minion a swing while her aura screeched in his mind. Setting her down, she wobbled then caught her balance.
“That was wonderful. Perhaps we can enjoy that again later.”
Daisy covered her mouth with her hands, suppressing a laugh. “Maybe at my party tonight, Doodiet. You will be coming, won’t you?”
“Oh yes. Many of us will be coming. Who would not come? Sister Daisy is our most remarkable descendant. We will celebrate her safe return.”
Hud slipped his arm around Daisy’s waist. “This is all I have left of my family. I’m sure happy to have her home for a while.”
Hud panned the huge area, blinking at the occupied enclosures. “So this is where you and Jose will be working? With your talent, I can’t imagine you’ll be scooping poop along with him.” Hud turned to Jose whose face showed a slow burn climbing from his neck. “I didn’t mean how that sounded, Jose, sorry.”
Daisy jumped in to distract. “No, I’ll be used for communication. Some of the specimens here can only communicate in other ways . . . other than thoughts.”
Jose cocked an eyebrow. “Specimens? Isn’t that a little harsh?” Before anyone could answer him, the sound of the main airlock rang followed by a human voice. They all turned to watch Dezi emerge with a basket in his hand.
“Hey, dudes,” he hailed. “Glad to see you all together. I come bearing gifts.”
“How did you get in here, Dezi?” Jose bristled.
The cocky chef brandished a grin. “Well, if you aren’t hungry, Jose, I can just pass your lunch on to Daisy.” He bent to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Welcome back, sweetie. We have a lot planned for you tonight. Nothing like a beautiful doll like you to brighten up the place.”
Jose reached into Dezi’s basket to pull out his lunch. Wordlessly, he lifted a hand to the small crowd and disappeared deep into the storage area to eat his lunch. He sat at a metal table where he still had a vantage point of the airlock, Hud’s words still stinging.
Suddenly, another minion appeared . . . a special one, followed by traces of flames from the fire butterfly embedded in her antler.
The commotion of Ivey’s appearance increased as Daisy looked crestfallen and Dezi gesticulated wildly. Hud held up a silencing hand, hugged Daisy, and watched her leave with the minion sporting the butterfly. Dezi continued to stomp his feet and make a fuss.
Wondering what had just happened, Jose finished his lunch with a hunk of braebread to spare. One of Dezi’s wonderful delicacies. It tasted better and better each time he tried it with its delicate texture and otherworldly flavors.
Dismissing the antics going on at the airlock entrance, Jose had a daring idea, his new bravado bolstered by his old resentments, which had flowered anew since Hud’s put-down. Sinking further into the dimness of the storage area, he furtively made his way back to Leeja’s enclosure. He eyed her airlock as he fingered his head apparatus and weighed the braebread in his hands.
Why the hell not? Promising himself he’d be quick, he turned the handle to his side of the airlock and stepped through the threshold. The memory of Leeja’s lovemaking colored his emotions. Spurning caution, he planned to leave Dezi’s delicacy for his new love. Inside the airlock, he set the braebread on the raised platform she was fed from. He reached out to place his hand flat on the door that separated him from her loveliness. All he had to do was press a button to let her in.
His heart thumped with excitement, lust and resentment. He took a deep breath and got himself under control while fighting with the unexpected image of Cobby and Abby making love. He clenched his fist tightly, his tail slapping against his thigh, his wings rustling with tension. He backed toward the outside door, resisting the impulse to let Leeja out for just a minute. As he lifted his foot to step outside, he pressed the button to open her door and prepare to close his door. He sniffed a sudden stench of rotted flesh and winced from a flash of pain. His only thought was of Leeja’s safety as he fell to the ground, warmth from the iridescent blood that poured from the deep laceration across his face luring him toward the dark and blessed unconsciousness that blanketed him.
Twenty Six Days AE (After Earth)
Chapter 16
Ginger Mae lay listlessly on her filthy pallet in the cold empty room. Her eyes remained unfocused as she stared at the ceiling in wonder, the protruding lip in the corner of the ceiling obvious. Her mind played the same question over and over, a needle stuck on an old forty-five from the 1950s.
Something about that ceiling . . .
“Bonnie, I’m scared.” The emaciated man that lay next to her pawed ineffectually at her arm. What was his name again? she wondered.
Something about that ceiling . . . Her claw-like hand roamed over her protruding abdomen, her pregnancy one of the few things her mind retained. That and the overriding fear that the monster would try to take her baby.
She brought her hand up to her mouth to cough, spewing a thin stomach gruel. She clutched her threadbare blanket for warmth, her body spasming with shivers. No matter how much she ate, her weight was dropping fast.
“Bonnie, I’m gunna be sick again.”
The sound of retching echoed in the barren room. Acrid smells reached her nostrils, forcing her to heave the remaining gruel from her stomach. It wasn’t the first time. Her hand wiped the residue of vomit from her chin. She rolled flat on her back exhausted, trying to alleviate the pain from her chest surgery, now just a dullness that spoke of her lost breasts.
“Bon . . . you okay? Come on . . . talk to me. We gotta get out of here, Bon. I don’t think I’m gunna make it if we don’t leave soon.” He coughed; a deep phlegmy rattle that spoke of his infected chest. Probably pneumonia. She wondered how she might know that then her mind wandered off as if untethered to a single thought. Searching . . . searching . . .
She tried to distract herself by saying the baby’s name over and over. A mantra of love: Daisy . . . Daisy . . . Daisy chain . . .
She knew she already loved the baby and prayed it was a girl. She was aware her thoughts were easily diverted these days. Again, she evaluated the ceiling, breathing deeply and sucking in a squalid whiff of unwashed bodies.
The ceiling . . . yes. Finally she was gifted with a moment of clarity. Our escape.
“Get up, get up.”
She sat up slowly and tugged on the arm of her companion.
“Easy, Bonnie . . . easy.” The man allowed himself to be coaxed to his feet where he stood weaving and off balance. His only arm act
ed as a rudder.
They gave each other stoic assessments. Two people close to death, maimed, bald, and starving . . . yet a tiny spark of naked purpose peeked through their dull and filmy eyes.
“We’re survivors, Peter.” His name tripped off her lips, her mind beginning to focus. “We have to do this.”
Peter weaved on his heels.
“Do what, Bonnie?”
She pointed to the miracle in the ceiling . . . a chance of escape sent by God himself; if they could only prove themselves.
“I don’t know. It looks awful high. And I don’t think I can hold you long enough.” He held up his lone arm.
“We need to try, Peter. For the baby.” She began to pull at their pallets as she spoke, piling them on top of one another.
Peter moved to help. “No. Save your strength.” He held out his arm to stop her, pulling her toward him so he could touch her belly; a small smile tugged at his lips, the effort difficult.
“Yeah, the baby.”
He focused on her eyes. “Don’t you think the baby grew fast? You look like you’ve been pregnant for a long time. Months . . . maybe four or five. But I know we haven’t been here that long, have we? Are you worried, Bonnie?”
She rested her head on his shoulder, fighting not to collapse and throw in the towel. Her head rocked back and forth. “No . . . no . . . no. You don’t know how long we’ve been here. We just need to focus on getting out of this hellhole.”
When Aliens Weep Page 14
