She didn’t expect the automated vehicle to care, but it sank back to the ground and the doors opened. She wanted to get home, but what if Melissa and Ryan waited for her, ready to pounce on her with more accusations or even violence?
Without groceries she might have been able to dart past them, but the bags were heavy and she dragged her feet, unwilling to face another confrontation.
Maybe I should get a bike. I don’t like all that pedaling, but it would probably be good for me. Hard to carry groceries on. Maybe I should get a backpack.
Drawing a deep sigh, she lifted her eyes. Whatever waited, she needed to meet it head on. Showing fear would only make things worse.
A tall figure walked up the street and her heart skipped a beat when she recognized her new friend. He didn’t quite look like he was waiting for her, but maybe...
Peter nodded a greeting, and a hint of a smile tugged at his lips.
“May I walk with you?”
“Of course. You may even carry this bag.”
He lifted an eyebrow and his eyes glittered, but he took the bag without complaining. Seeing the large man in uniform, armed to the teeth, carrying groceries looked funny. The bag was a burden to her, but he didn’t even seem to notice he had it in his hands.
She wouldn’t have to worry about anyone stealing her food when she had an armed guard.
After a few steps, he said, “I had a good time last night.”
“I did too. You’re mean at Scrabble.”
“I apologize. May I come back and try again?”
His eyes were mesmerizing, chasing all thoughts of the resistance movement away. At that moment, she would have agreed to anything.
“You’re welcome any time.”
“I look forward to it.”
So do I, probably a little too much.
She changed clothes three times to make sure she was her prettiest but still looked casual. The cat sat on the bed, watching her with indecipherable green eyes.
“What do you think, Bonbon? Is it too much?”
Her feline friend offered no advice. The cat turned her head away and licked a paw.
“Well, you’re no help.”
By the time Peter knocked on the door it was already dark outside, and the house filled with the aroma of chicken and creamy potato au gratin.
“What’s that scent?”
Sometimes you look just like a little boy. Even if you just stop by for the food, it’s okay, I’m still happy to see you.
“That’s dinner. I hope you’ll like it.”
The cat trotted out of the bedroom, stared at him, and froze. A moment later it fled across the room, seeking shelter under the sofa.
“Bonbon?”
Peter sighed.
“She knows I’m not of this world. Animals never like us.”
“Really? They know?”
Maybe the intruders were different on a level so deep only an animal’s senses could detect it. Her first instinct was to try to soothe the cat, but if he was right, nothing she did or said would help.
“I’ll go look at the food.”
Because looking at it will make it better. Duh.
She was still relieved to be in the kitchen, away from both the alien and the cat. There was too much to think about at once, and she needed a moment to collect herself.
A soft murmur drifted in from the living room, and she glanced out. Peter crouched by the sofa, looking in under it, and the cat’s bright eyes peeked out. She couldn’t hear the words at first and told herself not to eavesdrop, but she was too curious. Straining her ears, she could make out, “Come on, Kitty, I’m not going to hurt you. You could really help me out. I want your person to like me, and it would be easier if you’d like me too.”
By the time dinner was ready, he had coerced the cat to come out. She didn’t sit on his lap, but she tolerated him.
Why do you want me to like you?
She shrugged it off and decided to regard the cat’s acceptance as her own. Whatever would be would be, whether she worried about it or not.
After dinner, she curled up on the sofa and set up a Monopoly board while Peter read the rules.
“Is this what people on this planet normally do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Get together and play games?”
“No... Well, maybe, in the past. I think most people watched TV and played with their computers, but these things don’t work anymore.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe someday they will again.”
Rachael shrugged.
“I guess it’s for better and for worse. We were so used to entertainment being served to us we didn’t have to talk much to each other anymore. I still miss it. What do your people usually do in the evenings?”
“There are many worlds, it varies.”
“What about you, on the ship?”
He averted his eyes.
“It’s hard to explain. Life on the ship is so different from life here.”
“But...”
“Maybe someday, if everything settles down, I can show you.”
Oooh, I hope he’s not just saying that to shut me up.
“That would be amazing.”
A part of her loathed the imposition of new rules and mourned the world as she knew it, but another part yearned to learn more about both him and his people.
Their arrival might be the most exciting event in the history of the planet.
“Okay, stop me if I ask too many questions, I’m just so curious. How many planets have you visited?”
“I have no idea. Many.”
“Where do you live? I mean, what does it look like?”
The question didn’t seem funny to her, but he chuckled.
“It’s functional.”
He lifted the tiny Monopoly dog between two fingers, looked at it, and frowned.
“I’m glad you’re not afraid of me.”
“Me or the Monopoly dog?” She reached out to touch his arm. “Honestly, I think with you might be the safest place on the planet. I’m afraid of my neighbors, but that’s just because they’re so scared.”
His frown deepened.
“I’ve seen them watch you. Do I need to worry about them?”
“I don’t know.”
Did I just betray my own people?
*****
Every day, Rachael thought she’d never see Peter again, but he kept coming back, and they spent every evening that week together.
A part of her thought she must be breaking some unwritten law, maybe committing treason against her very species, but she still couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Maybe he just comes for the food, or maybe he’s as lonely as I am.
It was a secret too dangerous to share with anyone, and she kept all her fears and excitement bottled up inside.
Their time together appeared innocent enough. She taught him Earth customs, like using a can opener, and the tool fascinated him. They avoided most serious subjects, and once they went through all her board games and returned to Scrabble, he beat her with over two hundred points, interweaving words in a way she never thought of.
Every day, she thought he would make a move, kiss her, do something, but he kept a proper physical distance.
Maybe he’s into boys. Or robots. Who knows what these people do.
Melissa and Ryan stayed out of sight. They surely watched her house with great interest, keeping track of the alien coming and going, but she avoided them.
Should she confront them?
Maybe they reported her whereabouts and actions to their nutcase friends?
She did her best to ignore them, but her luck ran out one day when she stepped off the bus. Her neighbors stood right on the edge of her yard together with a stranger.
Crap, they’ve already seen me, and there’s nowhere to go but forward.
She cut over the grass in a futile effort to keep her distance.
Ryan called out, “Rachael, come over here for a minute.”
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“I’m really tired. I want to go home.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Just come over here.”
She took a few steps in their direction, but kept a good distance between them.
“This is Martin. He wants to talk to you.” Melissa’s voice wavered.
Martin grinned and showed tobacco-stained teeth.
“Hi Rachael, I’ve heard a lot about you. You’ll be safe with me.”
His way of saying, “Safe” made her skin crawl.
Safe because I’ll be dead?
Strange, they never appeared crazy until the world ended. Now they seemed as emotionally stable as a monkey on crack.
If I go over to them, they’ll kill me. I wish Peter were here, and where are all the troops when you need them?
“No thank you, I have a lot to do. Maybe some other time.”
Ryan pulled out his hand from a pocket, and her eyes widened when she saw a pistol. It was so small it almost looked like a toy, but could probably shoot people just fine.
Maybe it’s too small to be accurate? Maybe he’d be lucky to hit me, and I could just leave? I saw a Facebook post saying it’s difficult to hit people who run, if that’s true, maybe I can make it around the corner? What if he just has the gun for show and no ammunition? I read someplace that ammunition was in really short supply before the aliens arrived.
She took a step backwards and Ryan’s eyes narrowed.
“C’mon, Honey, what do you have to lose? You don’t even have a gun.” Melissa sounded close to tears.
She probably didn’t want violence, but didn’t know how to make it stop either. Where were all the people? Had Ryan figured out the patrol schedule so he knew when it was safe to misbehave?
A soft whirring noise pulled her back to reality. It was eerie, and clearly not from this world. A calm voice behind her spoke.
“Well, I have a gun. Rachael is a nice woman, and I think you should leave her alone.”
Maybe I wanted him to come save me so badly I’m hallucinating his voice?
It was difficult to rip her eyes away from the pistol in Ryan’s hand, but once she glanced in the direction of the voice, she wanted to sob with relief. It was Peter and not just her imagination.
He walked toward them. The rifle in his hands looked big as a bus, and he kept it fixed on Ryan.
The small pistol appeared to amuse him.
“What are you going to do with that? Put it away, and go inside the house.”
None of the humans moved.
Peter stepped in front of her and she fought down a wave of irritation. His back hid her view so she couldn’t see the trio anymore, and she wanted to know what they were doing. Then, she realized he put himself between her and danger, protecting her with his own body. She had never known anyone who would do that for her.
“Go inside the house. If you don’t obey, there will be repercussions. If anything happens to Rachael, or even the cat, I will know, and I will come after you in person. Am I making myself clear?”
She couldn’t resist the temptation. She peeked around him, too curious not to see.
Ryan glared at Peter’s weapon and made up his mind. He tucked the pistol back in his pocket and backed toward the house. Martin followed, with Melissa trailing behind them, crying openly.
Poor woman, she doesn’t have the backbone for weapons, blood, and death. She probably wants to sit at home and drink tea, and collect plates and cups with roses.
A rhythmic sound of footsteps broke her paralysis. A group of six soldiers, led by a seventh, marched down the street. When they saw Peter hold his weapon, they spread out on a line and trailed their rifles on the group on the lawn.
“Sir, do you require assistance?”
“No. It’s just a misunderstanding. There won’t be any more, will there?”
Ryan was very pale now and shook his head.
“No, Sir, no more misunderstandings.”
They would probably curse and rant at great length once they reached the relative safety of the house, but for now, the insurrection was stifled.
Thank you for not giving them up, or killing them. You spared their lives for me, didn’t you?
The soldiers remained alert until all three humans were out of sight.
Peter murmured, “Go inside.”
Good advice. She was more than happy to obey, but peeked out through the blinds. Peter walked over to the troop leader and gave his head a slight shake.
I wonder what they’re saying. Probably that it’s nothing to worry about.
The group marched off, but they would be back, no doubt.
He turned toward the house, and she bounced back from the window.
I hope he didn’t see me. Not that he doesn’t know I’m curious, but anyway...
The familiar knock on the door rang out seconds later, and he grimaced when she let him in.
“I’m sorry, it’s my fault.”
All of a sudden, she didn’t feel so good. Her hands shook, and her legs wanted to fold under her. An analytical, reasoning voice in her mind said, Adrenaline is a survival mechanism, fight or flight, but knowing the problem wasn’t the same as handling it.
Peter hurried to support her.
“You’re pale. You need to sit down.”
His arm around her was good. Too good. Maybe she should faint more often.
“Sit down here. I’ll get you some water.”
She should probably obey. She didn’t have anything better to do anyway. When he returned, she took the glass gingerly, needing both hands to keep it steady.
“It’s not your fault. This started before you came over the first time. I don’t want war, and they think it makes me an enemy.”
He crouched next to her and looked into her eyes.
“There is no way a war could end well for this planet. You are right to resist it.”
I don’t want us to be on different sides in this, but that’s exactly what an invader would say to stifle rebellion.
Still, he had never been anything but kind to her, protected her with his own body even, and she didn’t think he was lying.
“I have to go. Take this...”
He pulled out a small weapon from a pocket and put it on the sofa.
“You have the right to defend yourself.”
“Won’t you get in trouble for giving me that?”
He shrugged. “If I get in trouble for protecting someone I care for, I’ll deal with it.”
He left before she could answer or ask any questions, and she heard the front door close. Her fingers reached out to stroke the weapon. It was dangerous in itself, but also in more ways than the obvious. When her hand closed around the handle, she whispered, “You care for me?”
*****
The weapon was smaller than Peter’s and almost looked like a toy in his hands. When she held it, it had substantial size and weight. She turned it over, both curious and afraid.
I wonder about that rifle. How big is it, really?
It didn’t look all that large slung over his chest, but to her, it would probably be gigantic.
The pistol didn’t come with instructions, and she didn’t see a trigger. It had a coarse, silvery surface, and the upper part was arched with a green, glimmering stripe.
“I bet that measures energy level, or something.”
I wish he’d stayed long enough to show me how it works. Is it so easy I’m supposed to just get it?
She closed her fingers tighter around the handle, and the weapon vibrated.
“What the hell?”
“Attuned to cerebral commands.”
The voice rang in her head. She was certain she hadn’t heard it with her ears.
Cerebral commands? What rubbish. Guess I made that up... I mean, it wouldn’t blast a hole in the wall just because I thought it, would it?
She looked at the gun with certain expectation, but nothing happened. It didn’t move, and it didn’t shoot.
“Blast a hole in
the wall. Not too big, but enough for me to see there’s a hole.”
Nothing.
Dammit, blast a hole in the wall at eye level!
The thought no more than crossed her mind before a thin beam of light came out of the muzzle. A second later, light shone in from the bedroom.
“Shit! Oh shit!”
Every instinct screamed to drop the gun, but if she did, it might go off and shoot her. She put it down, carefully, and mumbled, “No shooting of anything. Absolutely no shooting.”
As soon as she no longer held it, she heard the voice again.
“Contact broken. Cerebral command link terminated.”
She kept an eye on the weapon as she approached the wall. It didn’t move, didn’t glow, didn’t do anything.
Weird. I could have sworn Peter’s weapons had triggers. Didn’t they?
The hole was small, round, and perfect. It was big enough to peek through, but too small to poke a finger into. Not for lack of trying...
Maybe a peephole between the bedroom and the living room wasn’t such a bad idea. Why hadn’t she thought of having one installed years ago?
Oh Lord, now what do I do? He’ll laugh his alien butt off when he comes back and sees I shot my own house, and it wasn’t even threatening me. Maybe he’ll take the gun back.
Taking a couple of steps back, she scrutinized the wall with a frown. The hole was fairly centered. Could she put something over it for now?
She moved a painting a little to the side. Good enough.
The hole was just as perfect in the bedroom, and for a moment she worried the beam might have continued, ruined the outer wall, and killed someone on the other side. The wall above the bed was unscathed, and she exhaled with relief.
She asked for a hole in the wall, and she got a hole in the wall.
The bedroom wall was a problem easily solved. She moved a small plaque with the text, Home is where my cat is. She could fix the wall later, if the world ever returned to a state where a problem like this counted as a real problem.
It was easy to imagine Peter peeking in under the plaque, smirking at the damage. She’d just have to keep him away from it.
Returning to the living room, the gun was exactly where she left it.
“Crap. What do I do with this thing? I can’t have a weapon going off every time I think about shooting something.”
Operation Earth Page 5
