by Darrell Bain
“They stayed up there for almost five years watching us before they left, Larry. Perhaps they decided we've learned our lesson by now."
“And what lesson is that, do you think, Senator Raycliff?"
“We must become better custodians of our earth is what I think,” the senator pontificated.
“No, I believe they waited until we had told them over and over we intended to have peace on earth,” Earl Martinhouse, a polical pundit said. He earned his living by contradicting politicians.
“Yes, Earl, but we still don't have peace. There are still little wars going on, not to mention all the religious discord their coming has wrought. Besides, according to my sources, they have never communicated with anyone on earth, ever."
“That's not true, Brian. Of course they've communicated. That's how the president and the leaders of other nations got them to leave the surface of the planet and retreat to those big orbiting globes five years ago. And the Secretary General of the United Nations says he was told the prisoners were taken to another planet, but may possibly be returned. There was also a last communication from them before they departed for good, less than three weeks ago."
The anchor looked understandably skeptical. “And what was the gist of that message, Earl?"
“According to my sources at the United Nations, it's still being analyzed. I'm sure the text will be released once we're certain of the interpretation."
“Congressman Syltatum, how about all the missing persons we know were captured by the aliens? Do you have any knowledge that might shed some light on this issue? The families are still grieving and until they know what's happened to their loved ones, they'll never have complete closure."
The representative did his best to look wisely into the camera. “Brian, I believe that eventually, the aliens will give us a full accounting. After all, they did no real damage while they were on earth. We were the ones who exploded the two nuclear weapons."
“That's true,” the senator said. “But you must admit, we were provoked. At any rate, the aliens did provide a stimulus to get a real space program going. Eventually, we'll meet them in space."
The anchor started to comment about the almost unfathomable distance beyond human technology the aliens had gone, but by common consent, Lyda and Gavin used a mind touch to cut the program off. Lyda smiled lazily up at Gavin. She reached up to pull his head down for a kiss, freeing his hand so he could resume caressing her. It was so wonderful and thrilling to have him near, to be lying down like this with him, almost naked, and wanting it to continue forever. Her mind seemed to be battling impulses toward both business and pleasure, though. The thought of forever reminded her of another problem everyone was aware of, but which also hadn't been discussed much.
“We'll manage the interrogations all right,” Lyda said. “It's just a matter of us all sticking to the same story, that we were taken to a succession of other planets where survival was very problematical and most of us died. No, we don't know why it was done to us. I suppose that's even true in the ultimate sense because we can't even come close to understanding why they're leaving this part of the universe. And of course, we'll have to say we were returned in spacecrafts so stealthy, they are invisible, which is also true, except we can never let on that we're the ones controlling the ships. That's a fact we can never allow them to learn. It should be relatively simple, though, once we get past the notoriety part. We can easily resist mind drugs if they try questioning us under them. Physical interrogation, using pain—well, I believe we'll probably have to do a bit of mind altering of the interrogators themselves if it gets bad, but we can handle that, too."
“But..."
“But what happens in twenty or thirty years, when our failure to age become too noticeable to ignore? I wouldn't put it past some governments or wealthy individuals to rip us apart cell by cell trying to discover how it's possible, just so they can extend their own lives."
“There is that. We're going to have to get earth under control and working toward common causes by then. Same for the wealthy individuals who hold so much power; we'll have to control them, too."
Lyda smiled up at Gavin. “That's an easy one. We'll just have to accumulate enough wealth ourselves so we can break them if they cause problems. No, I take that back. None of this is going to be easy. Ordinary people of any culture are slow to change; look at how much discord there still is on earth, despite the appearance of an invulnerable alien culture. We'll have to convince them that change is to their own benefit. Same for the power brokers and the financial movers and shakers. They'll want to hold on to what they have and take from us what they can. We can't give them our long lifespan, but we have at least twenty years before that will become a problem. We're bound to come up with ways to bring them around, even if it's nothing more than offering our own germ plasm to the people truly ready to work for the benefit of the species. The intractable ones ... well, as much as I hate it, we've both learned that sometimes, there's simply nothing to do but eliminate an individual. And listen to me sounding off, like those idiots we were just listening to, when what I really want is for you to carry me off to bed and forget all this until morning."
Their bed was as soft and pliable as Lyda's body and as ready to be entered as she was. Gavin caught that thought and laughed gently in her ear as he carried her to the bedroom for more love, and then sleep, cuddled in his strong arms.
* * * *
By the time they were ready to return to earth, all the possible contingencies they could think of had been discussed and planned for. A few, those with no immediate families who probably hadn't even been missed, went on ahead to perform a task for the others, that of finding out about relatives. The day before they were to go, one of the stealth ships returned. Lyda, among others, got a report.
“I'm sorry, Miss Brightner. Your mother lived for a few days after your father was killed and you were captured, but she never regained consciousness."
Lyda nodded her thanks, unable to speak for the time being. She, like almost all of them, had paid a price, one over and above the savage survival trials they had been subjected to.
* * * *
They all left Moon Palace, as it had been designated, right on schedule but with a mutual vow to return several times a year for relaxation and entertainment. The stealth craft let Lyda and Gavin out in the countryside near the suburbs of Maryland, close enough to Washington to begin their work, but far enough away to avoid constant political entanglement with the people they would have to interact with. They set foot on earth with the clothes on their back and a small number of gold nuggets provided by the fabricators of Moon Palace, enough to get established, but not enough to arouse suspicion or envy. They would tell the same story as everyone else, that the aliens had furnished the gold when they provided them with clothing.
Before they touched down, Lyda happened to think; none of them had ever seen a single alien. Neither she nor anyone else had any idea whether they were individuals, a single entity, or something else entirely beyond human ken. Not that it matters now, she thought, and Gavin agreed.
* * * *
Lyda stepped out of the craft and set foot on earth for the first time in over five years. She took Gavin's hand and smiled up at him. He returned it, then they gazed together into the distance toward the horizon, where tall buildings were visible. Lyda took out the pistol she had carried for so long. She shook the cartridges from the cylinder, wiped them and the weapon free of her prints, then tossed them all as far into the woods as she could. Then together, she and Gavin went forward, first, to find a place to live, and then, to begin their anonymous reign as king and queen of earth.
* * *
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