The Klaatu Terminus

by Pete Hautman

  The horse did not reply. Kosh glowered helplessly at the tangle of leather straps and buckles he was holding in his arms.

  Emma, perched nearby on a wooden fence rail, said, “I don’t think you’re speaking his language.”

  Kosh fumbled with the harness. “This part looks like maybe it goes over his head. Hold still, Clyde.” He tried to drape the strap over the horse’s neck. The horse backed up, shook its head, snorted, and stamped its foot, narrowly missing Kosh’s toes.

  “Whoa!” Kosh said, jumping back.

  Emma convulsed with laughter.

  “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a farmer.” Kosh threw the harness to the ground and joined Emma on the fence rail.

  “Maybe Emelyn can give us some pointers.”

  “You think she knows how to harness a draft horse?”

  Emma shrugged. “She couldn’t possibly know less than you.”

  “Sitting here dressed like a couple of Amish farmers and we can’t even hitch up a plow,” Kosh grumbled. They were wearing clothing the Boggsians had left behind — Kosh in bib overalls and a straw hat, Emma in a dark blue long-sleeved dress.

  Two weeks ago, they had been snatched from the Medicant hospital by maggots. The maggots had delivered them here, through the disko in the barn. A woman who looked like she could be Emma’s mother had been waiting for them. She had introduced herself as Emelyn.

  “This is Harmony,” Emelyn told them. “It was once a thriving Boggsian settlement, but the last of the Boggsians are gone. You are welcome to anything you find while you wait.”

  “What are we supposed to be waiting for?” Kosh asked.

  “For Tucker Feye.”

  “Who are you?” Kosh asked.

  “As I told you, my name is Emelyn.” She smiled at Emma. “I am your sister.”

  “But —”

  Emelyn held up a hand. “Be patient. You must wait. Feed yourselves. Rest. Know that you are safe. All will be explained in time.”

  With that, she disappeared into the disko.

  They had found food in one of the houses — stocks of canned vegetables, flour, hard cheeses, squashes, potatoes, and a barrel of slightly wrinkled apples. The Boggsians had not been gone long. In the sheds beside the house, they discovered several bags of seed grains and legumes stored in drums, and an abundance of tools. A half-acre vegetable patch behind the house was green with spring onions, lettuce, chard, radishes, and carrots. The draft horse — Emma had immediately named him Clyde — had shown up the next day, strolling through Harmony as if he owned the place.

  They had everything they needed to run a farm — except the knowledge of how to harness a horse.

  “I feel like a monkey trying to rebuild a carburetor,” he said.

  Emma wrapped her hands around his arm and leaned close. “We’ll figure things out.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  Kosh glared down at the tangled harness, but he was smiling.

  Lia awakened to the aroma of fresh-baked bread. She opened her eyes. A few feet away, Tucker was sprawled on the other bed, snoring lightly. Lia tipped her head up and looked at her feet. Her right ankle and foot were encased in a plastic sheath. She sat up. Aside from some stiffness, she felt good. Putting her feet on the floor, she tried to stand. Her ankle bore her weight with only mild discomfort. Placing her feet carefully, she walked into the main room of the cabin.

  Emelyn was sitting at the table, writing by hand on a large paper tablet. Next to the tablet was a basket of sliced bread and several jars of condiments. She looked up and smiled.

  “You are awake,” she said. “Are you hungry?”

  Lia nodded and sat down. Emelyn pushed a plate across the table.

  “We have hazelnut butter, blueberry preserves, and jam made from thimbleberries.”

  Wordlessly, Lia spread a slice of bread with the preserves and ate. Emelyn watched her for a moment, then returned to her writing. Lia ate the entire piece of bread. It was delicious. She helped herself to another slice, put a small dab of the hazelnut butter on it, and tasted it.

  “I prefer the blueberries,” she said.

  “Ah! She speaks at last!” Emelyn said. “You should try the jam.”

  “I do not know what thimbleberries are,” Lia said, irritated by the woman’s brusque good cheer.

  “You will never know if you do not taste them.”

  Lia spread a small amount of the pinkish jam on her bread and took a bite. She chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, then said, “I prefer the blueberries.”

  Emelyn laughed. Lia scowled.

  Emelyn sobered and said, “How is your ankle?”

  “It is better. Thank you.”

  “You may need to wear the brace for a week or two, but you should be able to get around on it. Now, I imagine you have some questions for me?”

  Lia spread more blueberry preserves on her bread and ate. When she had finished her second slice, she said, “What are you writing?”

  “I am recording a history.”

  “Of what?”

  “Of you, among other things.”

  “Why?”

  “It is what I do.”

  “Why?”

  “We must all do something.”

  “I have done all I care to do.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “I have met my mother and killed my father. I am done with doing things.”

  “I hope not. You are young.”

  “I do not feel young.” In fact, now that her hunger was sated, Lia felt very little at all. She thought of Tucker sleeping in the next room. A boy she hardly knew. What did she feel for him? She tried to recall the affection, the respect, the fierce attraction she had once felt, but it was like trying to feel for a needle with thick woolen mittens. What was wrong with her?

  “You have had a shock, both in your body and in your mind,” said Emelyn. “It will get better.”

  Lia stared at Emelyn, watched her features blur and quiver. She blinked; tears coursed down her cheeks.

  “That’s a start,” said Emelyn.

  Tucker, blinking sleepily, appeared in the bedroom doorway.

  “What’s going on?” he said.

  Lia stood and walked to him. She put her arms around him and buried her face in his chest and sobbed. Tucker looked past her at Emelyn, his face a study in utter bewilderment.

  “She’s doing much better,” Emelyn said.

  AS HE HAD BEEN DOING EVERY DAY SINCE ARRIVING IN Harmony, Kosh visited the disko at the back of the barn. He stood before it, careful not to get too close, and stared into the swirling gray disk. Facing the disko made him feel alive and in control, like jumping on a motorcycle or standing at the edge of a cliff. Anytime he wanted, he could step forward into another life.

  A large waist-high table stood next to the disko. It was not an ordinary table. The top was made of glass, or some similar substance, and it was warm. Occasionally the table clicked and hummed, as if it contained active electronics. There were no apparent knobs or other controls. Kosh left it alone.

  One day Emma came into the barn and found him gazing into the disko.

  “Kosh?”

  He looked back at her and smiled. “Just thinking,” he said.

  “Thinking about leaving?”

  He shook his head. “No. Besides, we have to wait for Tucker.”

  “I like it here,” Emma said.

  “So do I.” Kosh was surprised to hear himself say it. He did like it, although he could see it would get lonely in time. But for now, just being with Emma was enough. He had resisted his attraction to her at first — it had seemed wrong. Was he falling in love with her, or did he feel that way only because she looked so much like the Emily he remembered? But as the days passed, he came to realize that Emma did not resemble Emily as much as he had thought. She was her own person. Her physical appearance came to matter less and less.

  “Look,” Emma said. The disko was changing from gray to green. Kosh grabbed Emma by the hand and they backed
away as the disk bulged. A blob of mist oozed from its surface. The blob morphed into a roughly humanoid shape, drifted over to the table, and hovered there.

  “A Klaatu,” Emma said.

  “You’ve seen them before?”

  “The Klaatu are said to be the spirits of our ancestors.”

  “You think it can hear us?”

  The figure waved a blobby hand.

  Emelyn’s voice came from behind them. “She hears you.”

  Kosh and Emma turned. Emelyn was standing in the doorway. Behind her were Tucker and Lia.

  “Look who’s here,” Kosh said. “The kid who blew up my barn.”

  “Sorry,” Tucker said, grinning. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  Kosh walked up to Tucker and held out his hand for a fist bump, then changed his mind and wrapped his arms around his nephew and squeezed, lifting him off his feet.

  “Oof,” Tucker said. Kosh put him down and looked at Lia.

  “Please do not do that to me,” she said. “I am injured.”

  “I see that,” said Kosh, noting the sheath encasing her ankle.

  “It’s good to see you,” Lia said.

  “Likewise.” Kosh turned to Emelyn. “Thank you.”

  “I don’t deserve your thanks,” said Emelyn. She crossed over to the table, reached beneath it, and activated a switch. The table’s surface emitted a bluish glow, and the Klaatu came into focus.

  “Greetings,” said the Klaatu, its voice emanating from the table. “I am Iyl Rayn, and I beg your forgiveness.”

  The image of Iyl Rayn was that of a woman, but it had a blobby, unfinished appearance. Most of the fine detail was missing. Her hair was an orangish cloud, her features a blurry approximation of a face, and the spotted dress she wore seemed fused to her pale flesh. Her voice, coming from speakers concealed within the table, sounded flat and artificial as well, but there was something familiar about it.

  “I know you have many questions, not all of which I will be able to answer to your satisfaction. I am a Klaatu, as you know, but I was not always so. I was once a living biological person like you. I was a Pure Girl in Romelas, a teenager in Hopewell, a lover, a mother, and a madwoman.

  “My name, at the time of my transcendence, was Emily Feye.”

  THE KLAATU’S WORDS STRUCK TUCKER’S EARS AND SKITTERED OFF. He stood there blinking stupidly. He knew something important had just happened, but he didn’t know what. Lia and Emelyn were staring at him. Kosh was gaping at the Klaatu. The air felt thick as it moved in and out of Tucker’s lungs, and the floor was very far away.

  Had the Klaatu just said something about his mom?

  He said, “What?” His heart was pounding in his ears and the walls seemed to be tilting. Lia grabbed his arm.

  “I am sorry to tell you this way,” said the Klaatu. “I know it must be difficult.”

  Tucker said, “Wait. What did you say?” He looked around frantically. His eyes landed on Emelyn. “What did she say?”

  Emelyn said, “Tucker, your mother was very ill. Do you remember when she went away?”

  “Of course I remember!” He jerked his arm free from Lia’s grasp. “That’s how all this got started.”

  “Yes. Your father took your mother to a Medicant hospital.”

  “I know! He told me she died! Why are you telling me this?”

  “I did not die,” said the Klaatu. “I was transcended.”

  This time, her words registered. Tucker stared at her, his mouth working silently. No words would come.

  “By the time I was delivered to the Medicants there was little left of my mind. Irreparable fissures had opened in my brain. The Medicants could not help me, so I was given to a Boggsian, who made me into a Klaatu.”

  “You’re my mom’s ghost?” Tucker said.

  “I am not a ghost. I live, though not as a biological being. Once I was freed from my physical body, my thinking once again became clear. My memories, however, remained fragmented. It was my efforts to regain my memories and make myself whole that led me to create the diskos. I hoped to use them to observe historical events — specifically, my own lost past. I was successful, in a sense. I have watched you grow up. I have —” Her voice caught, and the image turned to face Kosh. “I have found echoes of longing, and regrets.”

  Why is she looking at Kosh? Tucker wondered.

  “So, you’re like a ghost with memories and feelings,” Tucker said.

  “No, I am your mother.” Iyl Rayn turned back to him. “Do you not recognize me?”

  “You’re sort of blurry,” Tucker said.

  The table emitted an electronic sound that may have been a sigh. “My body memory is fading,” she said. “As for feelings . . . I have feelings. For you I feel love, joy, and pride. But my feelings do not carry the power they once did. Transcendence saved me from who I was, but it also took away something elemental. This is why I cloned myself.”

  Tucker looked at Emelyn and Emma with sudden understanding. Emma was gripping Kosh’s hand so hard her knuckles were white. Her face was even whiter. Kosh, gaping at the Klaatu, did not seem to know Emma was there.

  Emelyn was looking intently at Tucker. “It is true,” she said. “We are clones of your mother.”

  “There are five Emilys,” Iyl Rayn continued. “The original Emily was a Pure Girl of the Lah Sept, who as a young child was abducted from the temple and taken through a disko to Hopewell. She was adopted by Hamm and Greta Ryan.

  “I commissioned the Boggsians to create three clones from a sample of my original DNA, which they obtained from the young Emily Ryan. The first clone, Emily One, was flawed — her DNA degraded during gestation. The clone did not physically resemble the original Emily, and was able to absorb only a few fragments of Emily’s already fragmented memory, including the numerophobia — a fear of numbers — impressed upon her as a child by the Lah Sept. That clone was augmented with new eyes and enhanced musculoskeletal features. She was also fitted with an experimental telomere regenerator to extend her useful lifespan. She became, in essence, a cybernetic organism, and was sent to the Terminus, where she lived a very long life as the custodian of the diskos. You knew her as Awn.

  “The second clone, Emily Two, was physically identical to the original Emily, but the memory transfer was again unsuccessful. She was sent to replace the original Emily, Lah Emma, in Romelas. This cruelty was necessary to deceive the Gnomon, who might otherwise have removed the original Emily from Hopewell. Emily Two was raised as a Pure Girl until shortly before her blood moon, when she was taken by the priests to serve them in the temple. She became the woman you now know as Emma.

  “The third clone, Emily Three, received a full set of my fragmented memories. She was further educated based on the observations I later made of my corporeal life by using the diskos. She is as close to the Emily Feye you grew up with as was possible. She is what I might have become, had I remained corporeal without becoming ill. In some ways, she is more the me I once was than I am. You know her now as Emelyn.”

  “I share most of your mother’s memories, and all of her DNA,” Emelyn said.

  “But you’re not her?” Tucker said, a part of him wanting her to disagree.

  Emelyn smiled his mother’s smile. “Iyl Rayn is the continuation of your mother — the main trunk, you might say — while I, and Emma, and the woman you knew as Awn, are limbs.”

  Tucker looked back at Iyl Rayn. “You said there were five Emilys.”

  “I am the fifth Emily,” said Iyl Rayn. “I am your mother’s imago, her ultimate manifestation.”

  “A Boggsian once told me that Klaatu are nothing but information.”

  “As are you.”

  “I’m not just information,” Tucker said.

  “I once believed that of myself,” said Iyl Rayn. “Is there such a thing as a soul? I still do not know, though I have had millennia to think about it.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Today, according to the calendar system
with which you are familiar, is the third day of June, in the year ninety-nine ninety-eight.”

  Tucker thought for a moment. “You mean it’s my eight thousandth birthday?”

  “There are many ways to compute that. Subjectively, you have lived five thousand nine hundred sixty-three days. That is, by your reckoning, precisely sixteen years, one hundred nineteen days. But yes, according to your ancient calendar, today is the anniversary of your birth.”

  “Wait a second,” Kosh interrupted. “June third is your birthday?”

  “Yeah,” Tucker said, startled by the fierce expression on Kosh’s face.

  Kosh wheeled on Iyl Rayn. “You were pregnant? And you knew it?”

  “That is true.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I would never have left!”

  “You were not ready to be a father, Kosh.”

  “I could’ve been! If you had told me. I loved you!”

  “As I loved you. But you were only seventeen.”

  “And you were only nineteen!”

  “I had no choice for myself. But I could make the right choice for you.”

  Kosh glared at her. “It was not yours to make.”

  Emma, who had been standing by with a bewildered and stricken expression, suddenly turned and ran out of the barn.

  “Perhaps not,” said Iyl Rayn, “but it is done, and now you have choices of your own to make. You have a woman who may love you as I once did. And you have a son.”

  Kosh clenched and unclenched his fists, then closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. When he opened his eyes, he was looking at Tucker Feye.

  TUCKER DIDN’T THINK THAT ANYTHING COULD SHOCK him more than finding out his mother was a Klaatu, but he was wrong. Kosh was his father?

  Neither of them knew what to do. All Tucker could think was, My mother is a ghost. My uncle is my father.

  Still, looking at Kosh’s bright blue eyes, at his long, stubbly chin, Tucker realized that deep inside he had sensed for a long time that Kosh was more like him than his father — than the man he had thought was his father.

  Kosh, looking as stupefied as Tucker felt, slowly reached out and placed his hand on Tucker’s cheek, as if to make sure he was real.