Redeeming Factors (Revised)

by James R. Lane

  Her body shuddered uncontrollably as it silently vented its stinking, crimson life onto the tiny cooking fire, then it toppled forward to cover the dead baby like an obscene pile of rags. Jack suddenly yelled to the wide-eyed villagers, ordering them to point out their holy man. Finally one of them gestured and gibbered toward a hut set slightly apart from the others. As Jack strode purposefully toward it an old man with a face scarred by ritualistic tattoos and smeared with cheap paint pushed aside a greasy animal-hide door flap and blinked out into the merciless sunlight. Jack carefully asked him if he was the village’s holy man, and when the man arrogantly proclaimed that he, and he alone, spoke the word of God Jack calmly drew his Uzi, and with a single well-placed shot to the man’s forehead he made sure that was the last time that particular “voice of God” ever uttered a sound.

  Teddy and I were still in shock from Jack’s brutal execution of the baby’s mother, and when he cold-bloodedly shot the village’s holy man it just added to our feeling of unreality. Our team leader had just murdered two civilians not in any way involved in our operation, but they were just the beginning.

  There were thirty or so people eking out what passed for a living in that hell-hole, but in what’s best described as a wolf tearing through a farm yard Jack swept through the tiny village, going hut-to-hut when necessary, and in the space of a few minutes he systematically killed every last inhabitant. A few had tried to run but Jack seemed to be everywhere at once. Nobody escaped. I had never seen such cold-blooded carnage, and even though Teddy and I wanted to stop him we both knew that Jack would have just as easily killed us had we gotten in his way. But by not stopping him we share in both the responsibility and the guilt.

  When there were no more villagers left alive Jack stood for a moment in the middle of the commons area and surveyed his terrible handiwork. Then, without speaking a word, he calmly reloaded his Uzi and retrieved his backpack from where he had dropped it by the garbage pile.

  And we continued with our mission.

  * * *

  The police car was threading its way through the light pre-dawn traffic as it approached the hospital, but the horrified H’kaah had eyes only for the grim-faced police lieutenant piloting it. “In all the years since then Jack has refused to talk about the massacre; he won’t even acknowledge it took place. In the months that followed he became more and more withdrawn, retreating into books on philosophy and religion and even science fiction. In time he left the service of his country and returned to civilian life, moving back home to immerse himself in his father’s business. He met and married a woman, fathered and raised two fine kids, and in a way I think he tried his best to forget that ‘Black Jack’ Ross ever existed.

  “Teddy Shapiro and I kept in touch with him over the ensuing years, and when we finally grew weary of trying to solve the world’s problems we followed him here where Teddy moved into the business world and I got into police work. Then the jumperdrive was discovered and…and the Middle East world went mad. Racial tensions and old conflicts became much more intense, and in what seemed like a few short months they reached critical mass. In the span of a few hours, Israel (my homeland, everything that served as a worldly anchor to Jews) was turned into dust as the ages-old Arab and Jewish religious hatreds boiled over into atomic war. In time, your people and dozens more were discovered, and one evening a short while later Jack called Teddy and me together for a meeting at his house. He had some very special United Nations people there, and we learned that, unbeknownst to us, Jack had been a very busy man. On that night the Patrons concept was born.”

  By this time they had pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, and Green brought the police cruiser to a stop in a “reserved-police” slot not far from the emergency room entrance. As they sat there, engine idling and air conditioner purring a chilled breeze into the car’s cramped interior, S’leen was trembling in every part of her body. She was finding it harder and harder to fight the instinctive, overwhelming urge to throw open the door and let her long legs carry her away from this madness.

  “With all that said,” Green rumbled, apparently unaware of the alien’s distress, “now do you understand a little of what happened tonight?” When she gave no response he added, “Over the years since Jack moved back home there have been seven other attempts on his life. We made enemies of a lot of people, S’leen, and every so often, even after all these years and despite all the precautions we took back then to keep our identities secret, a few of them manage to solve the puzzle and locate one or more of us. This group, tonight, was the first to actually draw Jack’s blood, and had you not been there they probably would have gotten away with it.”

  “Had I not been there,” the H’kaah eventually stated as she battled her emotions and instincts, “Jack probably would have killed them himself. He was worried about my safety, and I fear he let that distract him.”

  Green frowned, saying, “Maybe, maybe not.” After a sigh he added, “Whatever else he is, Jack’s a professional, and pros in this business are hard to distract. He trained you and armed you with what he thought you could best handle. Granted, he didn’t know if you could hold your own in a gunfight, but none of us ever really knows that until it happens.”

  “I…I just wish I had done something sooner,” she said, her voice on the verge of breaking. “If I had shot—”

  “Damn it!” Green barked. “If you had taken hostile action against them five seconds before you did they would have probably shot you right along with Jack. Given the situation, you did the right thing!”

  His sudden outburst cowed the alien, but after a terrified moment she realized that Green wasn’t threatening her; he was just annoyed. “I…I’m sorry, Nolan,” she meekly said after a few minutes of strained silence. It further surprised her to see the man’s dark features split in a wide grin.

  “Just don’t let me hear you criticizing yourself for what you did. I’m as proud of how you handled yourself back there as my young sergeant is, and if Jack were in a position to say or do anything, he’d be cheering and bouncing off the walls in celebration.”

  But then H’kaah took all the joy out of his comment. “But we don’t even know if Jack’s alive,” she said and then she began to cry.

  “Hey, none of that,” Green gently said. “We don’t know that he’d dead, either, and the sooner you turn off the waterworks and get yourself together the sooner we’ll go inside and find out what’s going on.” He handed her a tissue and she honked her pink-rimmed button nose.

  But before they left the car S’leen said, “You never answered my question, Nolan. What use do you have for me? Why am I here, when there is nothing I can do to help Jack?”

  His hand resting on the door handle, Green looked directly into S’leen’s eyes for at least ten long seconds, then said, “At this moment nobody knows what the reaction will be when the public learns that an H’kaah has killed three armed human assailants. The circumstances of their killing isn’t the real issue here, S’leen; what matters is that a member of an alien species widely thought to be passive and oh-so-gentle has taken direct and lethal action against armed attackers.”

  When she tried to say something he held up his hand, saying, “I know, I know—this is exactly what we’ve been working toward. The whole reason for this Patrons experiment was to try and make all you passive herbivore species capable of standing up to all us terrible, blood-thirsty predators.” When she looked confused he added, “But what happened tonight proved that it can be done, and you proved it in the most dramatic manner possible. What none of us can predict is what the reaction to this will be, not only among us humans but among all the other sentient species, predator and herbivore alike. Personally, I think humanity will be tickled shitless to know that it won’t have to nursemaid your people forever. What the other species will think, I don’t know. I have enough trouble trying to figure out what my own kind is thinking. Second-guessing non-human people born under different suns is way out of my league.”
/>
  S’leen was even more shocked at Green’s revelation, but before she could say anything he added, “So to answer your question, Dear, as a secret member of the Patrons team—and there are others you still don’t know about—I can best protect you by keeping you close to me until we see how this is going to shake out. Now let’s go find out how our boy is doing, hmm?”

  River City Trauma Center was like nothing S’leen had ever seen. Besides the hospital’s imposing size, which was far larger than any building she had ever visited, the barely-controlled sense of urgency the Emergency Room staff exhibited immediately set her already frazzled nerves on edge. Green, however, seemed completely relaxed as he breezed up to the security checkpoint with the wide-eyed alien in tow.

  “Who’s running the show tonight, Manny?” Green asked the elderly Pinkerton guard seated at the desk. “And how in God’s name did you get stuck working these dreadful hours?”

  The old man laughed, saying, “Doctor Fernandez is calling the shots until seven, Nolan, and as to why I’m here— somebody has to be here, so it might as well be me. Since my Bertha, God rest her soul, passed away last year I haven’t needed to stay home so much. Anyway, I can use the money.” He looked questioningly at the H’kaah, then at Green.

  “This lovely young lady is S’leen, Manny, and she’s with me. Seems some dirtbags ventilated her human patron before she managed to return the favor, with interest.” The old man’s eyebrows arched halfway up his wrinkled forehead and Green added, “MedTrauma Air hauled the guy here, and we’re hoping Doctor Fernandez’s folks can plug the leaks in his carcass.”

  Green urged the alien onward toward the main reception area, and S’leen’s eyes widened as she looked across the huge waiting room at the ragtag collection of sick and injured humanity awaiting treatment. The normal moaning and cursing of the would-be patients died down as more and more of them caught sight of the alien; the police officer drew no attention other than from those who realized that he was escorting the H’kaah up to the receptionist’s window.

  “Good evening,” Green said to the startled woman behind the armored glass screen. “I’m Lieutenant Green of the St. Augustine Police Department, and I’d like to speak with Doctor Fernandez. Also, for security reasons the young lady and I would like to wait for Doctor Fernandez in an office.” The way Green stated his requests left little doubt that he expected his wishes to be carried out, and the receptionist reached to a hidden switch and released the electric lock on a nearby door, nodding for Green to proceed.

  Once through the door, though, Green and his companion came face to face with a Jacksonville Sheriff’s Department officer who blocked their way. “Hold it right there!” the alarmed man barked. “I don’t know who you are or what that…that creature’s doing here, but—”

  That was decidedly not the way Lieutenant Nolan Green was used to being addressed by a junior officer, even one not under his command. In a smooth motion that was so swift and unexpected that it caught the young officer totally by surprise, Green slammed the man up against the wall of the hallway. His swarthy, lined face was so close to the young officer’s own light-skinned, smooth features that the patrolman could see the patina of age in the older man’s skin.

  Green snarled in a voice so deep it was almost guttural, “Let’s get the ground rules straight right now, mister. You address me as Lieutenant Green, and my friend here is an H’kaah, not a ‘creature’. IS THAT CLEAR?” When the young officer didn’t respond quickly enough Green snapped, “Well? I’m waiting, patrolman, and I’m already damned tired of your attitude.”

  The officer had never had a high-ranking officer of an outside department dress him down like that, and it was obvious that conflicting emotions and thoughts were at war in his head. This lieutenant obviously had no authority in Jacksonville, yet—

  “L-lieutenant. Sir. I…I really don’t know—”

  “Son, who’s your sergeant?” Green growled, the promise of dire consequences in his voice. “Better yet, who’s your lieutenant?”

  Oh shit! the young officer thought. Not only is my sergeant gonna chew my ass, now this guy’s gonna bring my lieutenant in on this! “L-lieutenant Thompson, Sir,” he said, trying not to cringe in front of this strange officer.

  Green smiled, but it held no humor that the nervous young cop could detect. “Why don’t you get on the radio and ask Lieutenant Sonny Thompson to call me on my cell phone?” the man asked in a steely velvet tone. “We talk on occasion and he has the number.”

  Ohshit-ohshit-ohshit! the young cop thought in a panic, but he tried to keep it out of his voice as he relayed Green’s request through his dispatcher. In less than a minute the tiny cell phone clipped to Green’s belt trilled and he answered it.

  “Good morning, Sunshine!” Green’s deep voice rumbled good-naturedly as he exchanged fraternal insults with the person on the other end of the connection. “I’m standing here in your lovely city’s marvelous trauma center with a handsome young officer by the name of—” Green squinted at the nervous cop’s nametag, “—M. Duncan, but your officer and I seem to be having a little, well, let’s just call it a ‘communications breakdown’. MedTrauma Air brought in a critical shooting victim who happens to be an old friend of mine, and I’m here with his charming H’kaah companion who was most fortunate in that she managed to toast the three dirtbags who shot him. You with me so far, Sonny? Well, as I said, your Officer Duncan and I don’t seem to be communicating on the same frequency, and— Put him on the phone? But of course.”

  Green handed the tiny handset to the visibly pale officer, and the young man quickly lost most of the rest of his pigmentation as he sputtered and stammered into the phone. Green had stepped back to where the H’kaah was cowering near the entrance door, and he put a calming hand on her shoulder. “Sonny Thompson and I went through the police academy together,” he softly explained, “and we were patrol buddies busting bad guys’ heads when this youngster still thought girls were a lower form of life. When Sonny’s done ripping our boy a new asshole I don’t think we’ll have any more trouble.”

  And true to Green’s word, they didn’t. Officer Duncan was almost saluting Green’s cell phone by the time Thompson had finished barking into the young cop’s ear, and as he returned Green’s phone the young cop blurted out, “Lieutenant Green—Sir! And, uh, ma’am, I hope you both will accept my sincere apologies and…and forgive me for being so rude. My lieutenant has given me permission to do whatever I can to help you in this…this unfortunate matter.”

  “Very good,” Green stated in his normal, laid-back style. “In case you didn’t catch what I was telling your lieutenant, this young lady’s patron (an old and very dear friend of mine, by the way) was shot and critically wounded by three assailants a short while ago. And while circumstances didn’t permit her to stop them from shooting my friend she eventually managed to gain the upper hand and subsequently killed them. All of them. Very dead. Headshot them, in fact.”

  Green’s low-key rendition of S’leen’s accomplishment caught the officer even more off-guard that the lieutenant’s belligerent upbraiding had. This sleek, cuddly-looking rabbit-creature chilled three armed dirtbags? Duncan thought, his beard-shadowed jaw dropping open in classic amazement. “I, uh, didn’t think—”

  “Apparently her assailants didn’t ‘think', either,” Green dryly said, then he caught sight of a middle-aged woman in a white lab coat striding purposefully up the hall. “Felicia!” Green boomed over Duncan’s shoulder.

  “Nolan you old scoundrel! I might have known you’d be at the center of all this excitement,” she responded with a tired grin, then motioned for them to follow her into a nearby office.

  When Green and the alien stepped inside the small office the young cop hesitated, but was quickly motioned inside. “You’re involved in this now, son,” Green told him, “so you might as well join the party.”

  Quick introductions were made and the doctor seemed genuinely pleased to meet the shy alien. �
��Your Mr. Ross is in surgery,” the doctor gently told her, “but if you’ll give me a minute I’ll see what I can find out.” She picked up her desk phone and punched in a four-digit code, then started asking technical questions. In less than the promised minute she put the handset back on its cradle and grimly said, “As you probably know, Mr. Ross is torn up pretty badly, but he certainly appears to be a fighter. If all goes as planned he’ll be in surgery another four or five hours, then he’ll be moved into the Intensive Care Unit. After that—well, no guarantees,” she said with a weary smile, “but we’ll see what happens.”

  Turning her attention to Green she asked, “This wouldn’t happen to be your old friend “Black Jack”, now would it?” When Green nodded she stated with a frown, “I have my Catholic version of Hell and you have your Jewish one, but I think our patient’s version may be worse than both of ours put together.” She shook her head, then a sudden smile lit up her tired face, “And Nolan, please pass my complements to your local EMTs. We’ve never had a shooting victim come in looking like a pincushion, and what they did with the Jacobs rods will probably earn them a new chapter in the training manual.”

  Green nodded and put a reassuring hand on S’leen’s trembling shoulder, saying, “There’s nothing more we can do here. Let’s get you back home and we’ll check on Jack around noon. OK?” Her ears drooped in submission, the forlorn look on her alien features obvious to the three humans.

  “If you feel it would be proper, and of course with the hospital administration’s permission,” Officer Duncan offered, “I’d be willing to stand guard in the ICU over your friend.”

  Green looked at Doctor Fernandez, who nodded her approval. “Son,” he said with a weary smile, “you don’t know what that means to me, and to S’leen, too. I’ll contact Lieutenant Thompson and arrange for you to be relieved when your shift ends, and I’ll make sure he’s aware of your willingness to help in this matter.” His words and the way he said them told the young officer that the two men’s earlier confrontation was no more than a fading memory.