“Johnnie,” she husked, chiming his entrance. But then she remembered they were adults, and he wanted to be called Jay. Due to her emotional stress, she had reverted to his old name.
“Lisi.” His radiant smile, tousled almond-colored hair, and enthusiastic voice brightened her world in an instant. “I was just going to visit you. I have something really important to tell you.”
Of course, he did. There was always something exciting going on in either his or his father’s lab. She brought forth her own bright smile and entered.
Sensitive to her moods, Jay Luttrell asked, “What’s wrong?” and moved in with a warm hug. Then, he pushed her out and studied her face. “You’re upset.”
“He’s left. We had a fight and he left.”
Jay nodded wisely, not needing long explanations of who “he” was. He murmured in her ear, “He’ll be back.” Propping his chin on the top of her head, he said, “They always come back. But now…” He stepped away and swiped his hands together, causing a rustling clap. “I have something to show you. But first, I need to upgrade your nanites.” He reached into a small refrigerator, pulled out a tumbler, and handed it to her.
She peered in and scrunched up her nose. “You need to make this taste better. It’s awful.”
He shook his head. “Then, everyone would drink it for refreshment, and it’s too valuable. But, drink this. Elija says there’s a mine near the Homestead containing zinc and the right minerals to make more. We’ll need some soon as we’re running low. He’s really excited about that place.”
“So am I,” a deep voice boomed out.
They both looked up to see John Luttrell, Sr. at the entrance.
“Dad! You came!”
“Your cryptic message was irresistible. Besides, I wanted to see the beautiful Commander Fujeint again.”
“You heard Richard left,” Jay accused.
“There was a rumor.” John shrugged and then grinned. His eyes darted over and settled on her as if he were ready to take possession.
Elise lowered her brow and pursed her lips. “Don’t you two dare take advantage of a vulnerable female.”
Both turned with wide–eyed expressions of innocence. “Never,” they said in unison.
She choked with disbelief. “Hah.” Flapping a hand at him, she said, “Okay Jay, show us your big discovery.” A squeak caused Elise to notice two small gebbits watching from a nearby cage.
Jay pointed to the animals and laughed. One gebbit wrinkled his nose and turned his back on them. The other sniffed.
“They are incredibly prolific.” He raised an eyebrow at his father.
John leaned forward, “Were you able to distill a formula that we can use?” He shook with excitement.
The gebbit danced back around and inserted his nose through the front part of the cage and wiggled his whiskers. Short ears on the other perked up.
“It’s in beta test,” said Jay. “I think we may be able to reverse the fleet’s sterility at long last. All indications look positive. I’ll be able to fix what you did. You can stop trying to make up for your disastrous deed and receive absolution at last.”
Elise shook her head. “John, you didn’t dump the hormone in the water that sterilized the fleet—Amy Wayfair did.”
“No, I know, but I created it. We were over-populated, and I wanted to save the fleet from extinction … but it backfired.” John rubbed his forehead. “I had to fix it. But Elise didn’t understand, and every time I thought I had our relationship patched up, Carter would show up with that innocent look and worshipping face, and I’d lose her again.”
Excitement flashed across John’s face. “So, you did it?” He stumbled toward the computer tablet on Jay’s table. “I didn’t think the hormone would translate across species.”
“Yes, that part was tricky and required ingenuity.”
The two eagerly began chattering about formulas and hormone derivatives. She stepped back and glanced at the gebbits who returned the look as she edged toward the door.
Jay raised his head. “Don’t go.”
She paused, feeling surprised. Thoughts of Carter’s recent words echoed in her memory. Upset, she asked the elder Luttrell, “Why didn’t you clone Carter? Besides you, no one else has contributed as much to the fleet’s welfare.”
Glancing at Jay, John sighed. “Why would I set up my clone for the same anguish I endured. I thought Elise loved me and would stand by me. I thought she understood I had to focus on my work to save the fleet from my own mistake. But then Carter would show up, and I’d lose her.”
Hands on her hips, Elise faced him down. “It’s not a problem now. I want you to clone Carter before he dies on us. He’s getting old… and we just lost Elise. He’s her generation. We risk losing him before we can replace him. Besides, his clone would be too young to be in competition with Jay.”
Jay spun around. “No, I have Richard Steele to thank for that.”
The bitterness in his voice shocked Elise. Inside her, anger welled up. “Maybe the two of you need to consider that you are the real reason your women have turned to other men. I want to feel like I matter more than a lab experiment, and I know the commander felt the same way.”
“This formula will save our species; can’t you see that?”
“No, not in the middle of the night when I’m lonely or during the day when I need a person to talk to me like I’m someone special. You want our attention? Well, pay a little attention yourself. Will either of you ever understand that?” she shouted and stormed out the door.
Chapter 15
A Time Trip
Richard stood and stared at the doorknob. After all the smooth sliding panels on the space station, it looked odd. He hesitated—not because of the doorknob, but because of what he was contemplating doing.
Time travel.
Right before the aliens arrived, an irritating young woman had set him on a path that led to the space station, suggested he accept the aliens, and then disappeared. He’d considered she might be from the future. He suspected she was his daughter. Elise looked a lot like her, but he could be wrong. He had been wrong before. He would be wrong again. But he didn’t think so.
I have to know more than I do now.
He placed his hand over the security pad, the system recognized him, so he twisted the knob, and pushed open the door. Wiping his sweating palms onto his pants, he took a deep breath and entered.
The place smelled musty and stale.
Once he’d considered the lab small, tucked back as it was amidst a jumble of white boxy buildings, not far from the spaceport. Now, after the tight accommodations of the space station, it felt roomy.
He flipped on the switch in the dim room. Lights came on and equipment began humming. He scanned the area, but everything appeared in order, if not a bit dusty and abandoned looking.
“I should have someone here monitoring me,” he muttered. But when he contemplated who he could ask to watch out for him, the list was short. Trace wasn’t a time traveler nor was Braden. For an inexplicable reason, the gene had passed by his brother or taken a different route. Thus, if he got in trouble, they’d be no help getting him back.
Treysa Telluria, his last girlfriend, didn’t possess the gift, or was it a curse? In addition, she was involved with good old Braden, girlfriend stealer of old, from as far back as their high school days. She was also involved with her job on the Alysian space station. Her decision to leave him had hurt, but he understood her desire to explore space. The relationship had always suffered from various distractions. Still, he had been so sure of Elise… from the moment he saw her, he knew she was the one.
Or was she? He certainly didn’t pick the easy ones.
Drawing up a chair to the front of a large electronic panel, he turned to observe the platform that would create the gate. He would have to program the panel, then mount the platform, and then… what?
Where or when should I go to find out what I need to know? What do I need to know about t
he future that could help me now?
The lights started winking on all over the panel in front of him. He ran a hand through his hair and searched for a timeline, contemplating dates and locations. It was rather… overwhelming.
The gate began to light up and brightened the room.
What the…? He hadn’t activated the gate yet.
The platform came alive with light, and as he mounted the three steps, a consolidating image at its center was saying, “Yes, yes, I know. Give me some credit for knowing what to say.”
The swirling energy coalesced into a person. He found himself staring at a distinguished sixty-something gentleman who looked a lot like the face he was used to seeing in a mirror—only with more wrinkles and silver-streaked hair.
“Gads, it’s me.”
The man turned toward him. “Oh, hello.” They both paused and gazed at each other.
The man ran a hand through his hair in a chillingly familiar gesture. “Ah… this is rather awkward.”
Richard felt his mind finally get in gear as he said, “Won’t this cause an anomaly or something really bad to happen?”
The man hopped down and furrowed his eyebrows at him. He felt his own eyebrows echo the action.
“Clueless, rather clueless. Okay, here’s what you need to know.” His doppelgänger shook a finger at him. “Get a backbone. Quit trying to please Elise, and take control of the situation, or you’ll lose her. She tends to run to the man who pays the most attention to her… it’s a female thing.”
“She was extremely upset.” He realized that he had wanted to avoid confrontation so he wouldn’t have to deal with all that female anger. Often, he didn’t know what to say or do in the face of it and tended to run away.
His counterpart threw up his hands. “Oh, boo hoo.” Then he narrowed his eyes at him. “She’s the best thing you’re ever going to find; so, grab her before she gets away... like that other one did.”
“You mean Treysa. My own brother stole my girlfriend yet again. I planned to marry her.”
The other shook his head. “That would have been a disaster. You never loved her. You neglected her, so she found someone who appreciated her… just happened to be Braden. Don’t make the same mistake with Elise.”
Have I always been this overbearing? This irritating? Richard squinted at his elder self and experienced an epiphany. Yes, I have that tendency. But I rather like this maturer me. I didn’t turn out so bad.
“Fine, but I need to know more on a wider scope,” he insisted, stepping forward with fists clenched.
“Yes, yes. Like that.” Richard from the future nodded. “Keep that firmness in your voice and take charge.”
“Aargh!”
“Okay.” A hand waved in front of his face as a thoughtful expression flashed over the other’s face. “Since you’re already in Tygel, set up a screening committee for the arriving Terrans. A lot of Alysians think they can get free labor, or more, by sponsoring Terrans. Those who think that, and abuse them, will cause a violent reaction, possibly a war. Do that and then go back to the station and get your love life back on track. Also, Dr. Luttrell will soon have his hands full if you don’t stop a pending outbreak of disease.”
“What?” Shock coursed through him at the thought of an alien disease rampaging through the space station, or worse, descending onto Alysia and adding to all their current woes. Then he realized that this knowledge meant one more trip through space back to a station that might contain an alien disease. Panic threatened to overwhelm him. He licked his lips, feeling his stomach churn. Sweat broke out on his forehead, which he nervously wiped off.
The other tightened his lips and glared at him.
He could read the thought. Step up to your responsibilities. He glared back. “Okay, Okay, I got it.”
A smile bloomed on the other’s face. “Watch that fellow, Elija. He’s going to cause no end of trouble if you let him. Okay, gotta go.” The other pivoted and started up the steps.
“Wait. That’s not enough to go on. I need to know more.”
The elder Richard stopped and swung back around. “As you’re so fond of telling others: I can’t tell you any more or it might affect the future.” He smirked, then pursed his lips. “And don’t go and do any time traveling on your own. That way lies disaster." A hand waved backwards over his ascending shoulder.
Gah, he was annoying at times. Annoyingly right.
Centered on the platform, future Richard tapped a few buttons and disappeared into a blaze of light, leaving him in the dark in more ways than one.
***
Working through Trace, Richard set up various stations around the Democratic Union to interview prospective sponsors for the Terrans. Then, using his extensive network, he contacted the leaders of the more developed countries and explained the procedures outlined by the Immigration Committee and enlisted them in setting up their own programs. Once that was accomplished, he queried Deuce for a list of a hundred station-vetted prospects who possessed the skills to carve out a life on Alysia.
At the last moment, he asked to help screen sponsors in order to get a feel for the process. Trace set him up at I.N.Sys headquarters where he got admitted into an enclosed interrogation room and sat down at a table, ready to bring Terrans and Alysians together.
In front of him, on the table, he placed a list of people who had applied for Terran sponsorship. Now, he was ready. Smoothing down his shirt and adjusting his chair, he signaled the admitting guard. As his head raised, he saw a hulking form with intimidating muscles and a scowl. Looking down, the name Jaxson Layne had a red-inked “decline” with an exclamation mark.
The man seated himself, causing the chair to creak. “My boss said that I could negotiate up to ten thousand dollars for that Amanda person.”
“Negotiate?” Richard’s head bobbed up. “Ten thousand?”
“Yeah, but I aim to get a better price than that for her.”
“Well, I’m afraid Amanda’s taken and no other candidates are available right now that fit your requirements.” Richard hadn’t expected this and wrinkled his nose at the obnoxious odor of a blatant bribe.
Jaxson leaned over the table, his weight bending one of the legs and tilting the table. “My boss ain’t going to be happy to hear you declined me if you know what I mean? You sure you want to disappoint him?”
Richard glared at the idiot. “I’m sorry, but you aren’t acceptable.” He pointed to the door, and the growling hulk lumbered out, trailing dire warnings, forgetting that he was at the heart of I.N.Sys.
A tall, scrawny fellow with a scraggly yellow beard and bad breath entered next.
“So how much is your boss willing to pay for a Terran?” Richard asked in jest. He reexamined the list and saw the name Orson Payne.
Orson Payne rubbed his beard and eyed him. “She has to be purdy and young, but he’ll go ten thousand.” The man paused. “Oh! I’m not supposed to tell you that.”
A choke of surprise climbed up Richard’s throat. He gasped and quickly improvised, “I’m sorry, but the sponsor needs a wife and other children who are the candidate’s age.”
“The boss ain’t going to be happy to hear that. People don’t usually say ‘no’ to me.” The criminal breathed on him, leaning forward. The stench knocked Richard back. The table slanted further. Papers started sliding as he hastily tried to collect them.
Again, Richard pointed to the door. “I’m sorry to decline your offer,” he said, not very convincingly. The idiot peered around, realized he in I.N.Sys, a Federal installation, stood up, and repeated, “This doesn’t make me happy.” Then he wisely left.
Next, a sweet, elderly couple came in and sat down across from him. Richard smiled at them. At long last, someone suitable had arrived. He flicked through notations recording a respectable address and a reasonable income. Both applicants sat quietly with hands folded. “Well, Mr. and Mrs. Kayne, you say you want a young, attractive woman to replace the daughter you lost?”
“Yes
, sir.” The elderly man nodded.
“Amanda isn’t available, but Susie is eighteen and has a nice smile.”
“She’ll do.” The wife pursed her lips, but nodded.
At that moment, Trace opened the door and stuck his head in. “How’s it going?”
Richard smiled. “We may have a qualified couple.” He pointed to the two candidates in front who grinned at him.
Trace narrowed his eyes at the two. Addressing them, he said, “How’s Jake doing, Mr. and Mrs. Kayne? I see he has already sent his brother and cousin over with fraudulent identities. Now, he’s sent his adoptive parents under false pretenses. He must be needing more girls for that prostitution ring of his… or is it an escort service?”
Richard’s eyes widened. His head swiveled to study the white–haired couple with rosy cheeks and gentle smiles.
Leaning in, Trace murmured at them, “We can’t allow that. Those aliens have big guns on their ships and abusing their people might have consequences.”
“Come on, mother. We’ve got to go. These two aren’t amenable.” The man stood up, grabbed his wife’s arm, and stomped to the door that Trace opened wide for them.
Pounding his forehead with the heel of his hand, Richard groaned, “Didn’t see that one.”
Trace grinned. “Looks like you’ve had enough of being a bureaucrat.”
“Frag, yes.”
“And you thought I had it easy.”
“I never thought that.”
“Ready to go back to the station and face the music?”
Richard nodded. “I suppose I should. I’ll leave the selection of sponsorship in your capable hands. Put two names aside for me.”
“Elise and Merek?”
“Yes. I’ll return to the space station on the next available shuttle.”
“After a drink, first.” Trace opened the door even wider as Richard collected his materials and followed him out.
“I’ll need one… possibly two,” Richard groused as the door closed behind them.
Trace patted his shoulder. “Same here. We could even go three if you’re game.”
Somewhat Alien: The Station (Terran Trilogy Book 2) Page 11
