Operation Earth

by Maria Hammarblad

  “Will you come back?”

  The question sounded needy, but she couldn’t keep it in.

  A smile lit up his face.

  “Of course. It shouldn’t take more than three or four days.”

  That’s not too bad. It’ll be a long three or four days, but at least he’s coming back.

  “You’ll take care of yourself, won’t you? Is it dangerous?”

  He grimaced, but sounded amused.

  “Everything’s dangerous to some extent. But yes, I will be careful. I’m not worried about me though. I’m worried about you. You still have the gun, don’t you?”

  Good point. Without his protection, she was an easy target. Who should she fear the most? Aliens or humans?

  “It’s in my jacket.”

  “Good. Keep it close, just in case. I have to go.”

  He looked like he wanted to say something more, and she pressed her lips against his cheek, hoping to encourage him. He didn’t speak. He just took her hand and headed for the front door.

  “Please take care.”

  He kissed her softly and whispered, “I will. I love you.”

  This time, her heart leaped with joy. Hearing the words almost made up for his leaving. Not quite, but almost.

  She stared into his enigmatic golden eyes and told the truth.

  “I love you too.”

  Everyone knew once you confessed a thing like that to a man you would never see him again. It was a magic trick that made them disappear into thin air, but he said it first, and the words rolled out of her mouth without effort.

  Peter smiled, a real smile this time, one that reached his eyes.

  He stole one more kiss and murmured, “I’ll be back, I promise. Be careful. Please, be careful.”

  Then, he was gone, and Rachael stared at a closed door.

  *****

  Peter pulled his hovercraft up outside a low, gray stone building and rolled his shoulders.

  This was not a good assignment. Too much depended on it and he was out of his league.

  He had expected June to lecture him, but she just frowned.

  “Theirs is a patriarchal society, and they will be more comfortable with surrendering to a man. You’re apparently fond enough of them to engage in carnal relations, so you deal with them.”

  Surrender, sure they will.

  Sarcasm might not help him, but he couldn’t keep it down. He was a soldier and good at many things, but diplomacy was not one of them.

  Negotiations shouldn’t be his job; it was June’s specialty. Lately, she was more interested in keeping the time schedule than the common good. He didn’t think it was his fault, but it might have been.

  Isn’t that why we were out here in the first place? To learn from other worlds and exist in unity?

  Maybe the original purpose got lost somewhere along the way. In that case, re-assimilation was an exercise in futility, and it might be time to quit.

  June might be right. If he was the only one who cared, he was the right man for the job. Dammit.

  Funny thing about the brain-sticks; even cursing came naturally in the new language. Could he still speak to people back home if he tried?

  Once they left this planet, when they moved on and he got new languages and knowledge of a new world, would he forget all about this one too? Would it fade just like all the others?

  And Rachael?

  No, a personal relation he would remember. People weren’t associated with the implant, and even if he had to leave her, forgetting her was unthinkable.

  Stop procrastinating and get in there.

  He stepped down from the vehicle, but paused with a hand resting on it. Why did the thought of leaving her behind hurt so much? It was inevitable, wasn’t it?

  There’s a way around it. You know there is.

  No. He wasn’t willing to submit his fate to the hands of someone else, not even to Rachael.

  He pushed the thoughts away and walked toward the building.

  This wasn’t a good time for worrying about the future. He needed to save her and her way of life in the present.

  A heavy steel door opened to a concrete corridor and a room without windows. A small group of human men and women sat around an oval table. They all looked tired, and were surrounded by human guards with human weapons.

  Gunpowder and projectiles. How quaint.

  Besides the humans, the room held a number of soldiers in uniforms just like his. He didn’t know them personally, but they would be good at their jobs. They always were.

  One of the humans stood up, and Peter reached out his hand. Rachael had taught him how to be polite. When meeting strangers, Earthlings shook hands. The man looked surprised, but took it.

  “I am the secretary of defense for the United States of America.”

  America, that’s my territory, but we’re not there now. We’re in... France?

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir. I’m Peter.”

  Rachael had also told him people on this world had a first and a last name, but here he came up short. No last name, just Peter.

  The other humans also shook his hand, albeit reluctantly. They all had similar positions for other countries, but he didn’t think he’d remember their names.

  Honesty would be the best strategy. He stood with his hands on his back and nodded to the humans.

  “Thank you for agreeing to meet me. I know you consider us an enemy and riots are escalating every day in a number of nations. Let me assure you, I have not planned this visit to your planet, or the re-assimilation, but I do know you can’t win a war against us. It will lead to nothing but destruction.”

  A woman with gray eyes, brown hair and freckles leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.

  Where’s she from again? Canada? I haven’t heard about disruptions there.

  “Well, Peter, what do you expect us to say? You can’t just come here, take the planet, and mold it into something of your liking.”

  Sure we can. We already did, but I can’t tell them that...

  He forced himself to relax.

  “I’m here because I know a human woman. Her name is Rachael, and she said something I think you should know. We’re more similar than different. We were one people once, a long time ago, and we will be again.”

  The woman kept his eyes fixed on him, and he focused his efforts on her. If he could win her over, maybe the others would follow.

  “Our reasons for coming here might not seem crystal clear to you. Half the time I wonder too, but there is a plan behind it. It’s time for the people on this planet to step up and take your place in the universe.”

  They did not look convinced. Who could blame them? Smiling didn’t come easy, but he did his best.

  “So, my Rachael says if she and I can get along, even care for each other, others can too. It’s just a matter of daring to get to know someone different. A matter of focusing on similarities instead of differences. She says you used to have something called TV that spread information. Maybe we could have TV again, and show similarities. Isn’t that better than going to a war you cannot win?”

  “We would have had TV if you hadn’t EMP-d us,” a sarcastic voice called out.

  Good point.

  He wanted to cross his arms, but remembered June’s lesson in Earth body language, and forced his hands to hang down by his sides.

  “I understand that it is an inconvenience, but the EMP is more for the host world’s protection than anything. If we had not hampered your communications and weapons, would you not have launched all your troops against us? Again, you cannot win a war with us. It’s better for everyone if the war never starts.”

  A man, he couldn’t remember the name, shifted his weight in the chair.

  “I hate to say it, but he has a point.”

  “We can rebuild everything that was lost in the EMP. You can have all the benefits of our technology, and all the benefits of yours. The planet can have peace and prosperity. You have a lot to offer an
d a lot to gain.”

  The urge to cross his arms became too strong. He had to.

  “It will happen anyway, but it will happen faster if you cooperate.”

  Canada frowned and glanced over at America.

  “He makes it sound like they’re doing this for our own good. Like when the world police enters poor countries to turn them into democratic allies.”

  One of the men with the same accent as Rachael said, “Shut up.”

  The secretary of defense, whatever that might be, ignored the other humans and tapped his fingers together.

  “Say that we were to cooperate, what do you want from us?”

  “All attacks on our personnel must cease immediately. If skirmishes continue, my superiors will order us to strike back. That will not end well.”

  Another voice cut in. “Maybe we should consider his offer.”

  Something moved at the edge of Peter’s vision. The long row of human bodyguards could have been carved in stone. All but one.

  A muscle in the man’s face twitched. Stress? It could be, or, it could be something more. The man’s fingers twitched too.

  The voice added, “We don’t have much to lose anymore.”

  Peter barely listened. Instinct told him to pull out a weapon and aim at the security guard, but waving a gun around a room filled with politicians would be counterproductive.

  We might have a problem.

  He didn’t have time to say anything. The human was quick. He saw the guard’s hand move to the pistol on his hip in slow motion, but still didn’t have time to act. The man’s lips formed the words, “We will never surrender,” and deafening shots echoed in the room.

  It only took a second or two for Peter to react, but it was too late. By the time his hands found his weapon, the secretary of defense was already dead. The other man who seemed inclined for unity slumped over the table. A few of the other guards had thrown themselves between the killer and their protégées and others fumbled with their own weapons. They would be too late. He already aimed at the woman.

  Peter’s men were apparently as stunned as he was.

  Maybe I should have expected them to turn on their own, but I didn’t.

  His body finally reacted, and the energy beam from his weapon hit the assassin. There was one more bang from the projectile weapon, and the woman screamed.

  Am I too late? Well, if she’s screaming, she’s not dead.

  There was no time to investigate. The wall to his right exploded, sending a shockwave and debris through the room. It was a small explosion, carefully calculated to break through the wall without killing everyone inside.

  The building shook from more explosions, but he couldn’t hear them. He saw people’s mouths move, but the world was quiet. Even through the chaos, he saw a trickle of dust fall down from the roof.

  A lifetime of training took over. Women must be obeyed and protected. This had been true for generations and was imprinted in his very DNA. He jumped over the table, grabbed the woman, and shoved her in under it, protecting her with his body.

  She’s probably yelling right now, good thing I can’t hear it.

  Screams or deafness no longer mattered. The roof caved in, and the table protected them for a few moments. Then, it gave in and the entire weight landed on his back, pressing the air out of his lungs. The world faded to black.

  Chapter Eight

  To Rachael, every night and day without Peter was endless.

  He would leave for good one day, and then what would she do? She tossed and turned on the bed, and every time she was about to fall asleep she thought she heard someone at the door or in the house.

  When she did sleep, nightmares haunted her. In her dreams, Peter died over and over again, and she woke in a matter of minutes with his name on her lips. She sat up in bed and forced herself to breathe slowly.

  “He can take care of himself. Stop being such a wuss.”

  Bonbon stretched out on her lap. “Meow.”

  “Are you agreeing with me or calling me stupid?”

  The cat purred.

  “Well, you’re no help. I’d know if he was dead, wouldn’t I?”

  As usual, her furry friend offered no advice.

  Churning thoughts didn’t make time pass any faster.

  He’s alive. He has to be alive, but what if he doesn’t come back? He’ll have to leave for good one day, when the fleet leaves. That time he won’t come back. Then what will I do?

  Strange how all her hopes and dreams were focused on someone who wasn’t even human.

  Maybe she didn’t have a life of her own anymore. Had her own identity disappeared to the point where she only lived through him?

  Was her no-longer-functional gadgets, job, and car all that defined her?

  The neighbor’s house mocked her. Were they still watching her, or had they given up? Had they noticed Peter was no longer around, and if so, what did they make of it? She probably kept her eyes as much on them as they did on her, and in less dire circumstances the situation would have been comical.

  Bonbon wanted to go outside, and Rachael followed the cat into bright morning sunshine.

  It’s a fine day. I wish I had coffee. This would be a good day for having morning coffee on the porch.

  She glanced over toward Melissa’s house. They had a window open. Interesting. Before she knew what she was doing, she pulled her hairclip off and tossed it into their yard.

  “Oops, I must have dropped it there that one day I went over to see them. I’d better go get it.”

  Setting foot on the other side of the hedge seemed dangerous, but she had Peter’s gun tucked in a pocket, and the hairclip glittered in the grass, close to the open window.

  How did she become so bold?

  Walk casually. How the hell does one walk casually? Do I whistle? No, make as little sound as possible...

  She strolled, doing her best to look normal. Just an ordinary woman going over to pick up something ordinary she dropped on an ordinary day.

  Seconds later, she crouched under the window. At first, she couldn’t hear anything, then Melissa’s voice drifted out.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “Of course it is. We need to show them what we’re made of.”

  That was clearly Ryan. She didn’t know his voice all that well, but the feisty attitude gave him away.

  A third voice followed. It must be Martin of the tobacco-stained teeth and bad breath.

  “It doesn’t matter what you think, Hon. The missile is ready and will be launched.”

  Missile? What the hell are these people up to? Do they know I’m out here? Did they leave the window open to see if I’d overhear and tattle, or do they feel safe now when Peter isn’t around?

  Either way, overthinking wouldn’t do her any good. She strained her ears and heard Melissa speak again.

  “I didn’t think missiles could go into space.”

  “It’s complicated. I’m worried about the guidance system, we’ve scraped together bits and pieces, but nothing is as good as it should be,” Martin answered.

  Another long silence followed, and Rachael dried her palms on her clothes, immediately scolding herself for doing so. Her mom would have had a field day with that behavior. Maybe they were coming out, and she should hurry to leave.

  “You know, the guy next door, he doesn’t seem so bad.”

  Something heavy fell to the floor and Rachael imagined Ryan’s chair toppling over. His voice was anything but patient.

  “Don’t be such a goose. Rachael’s just as bad as them and should burn with them. If she chooses to stand with them, she will. With any luck, that guy is on the ship when we bomb it and we can talk her back to the right side. If not, well, we’ll just have to kill him anyway, won’t we?”

  Is that so?

  Knowing they wanted to kill both Peter and her washed away any guilt over spying on them and planning to tattle.

  Martin snapped, “No one cares about your neighbor r
ight now. Big picture.”

  Thank you. Big picture. I’d appreciate if you didn’t shoot me in my sleep.

  She couldn’t stay under the window much longer, someone would come by and see her, but it would help if she knew where they had this weapon of mass destruction.

  Chairs scraped against the floor, and the sound shook her out of her indecision. She snatched her hairclip and ran.

  *****

  When Peter regained consciousness, he saw pale daylight through a curtain of dust. There were noises of scraping stone at a distance.

  At least I’m not dead, and I can hear to some extent.

  The woman under him moaned. She was still alive. Good.

  “Sir, are you okay?”

  Who spoke? He couldn’t turn his head to look.

  “Sure.” It wasn’t entirely true, but good enough.

  A young face entered his field of view. “Alain and I jumped out through the wall when the roof caved. Sorry we abandoned you, Sir. I thought you were dead there for a minute, it was hard to wake you up.”

  I don’t care, just get these fucking rocks off me.

  The soldier reached the same conclusion. He disappeared out of sight, and the load on Peter’s back lightened. They soon lifted the remains of the table off, and he sat up.

  Goddamn that hurt. Guess the table protected my head, or maybe it’s too thick to break.

  This wasn’t a time to feel sorry for himself. The woman’s face was pale, she was unconscious, and blood gushed from her shoulder. A bullet must have grazed her. “Do we have any more survivors?”

  “We will search, Sir.”

  “Wait, what’s your name?”

  “Jean.”

  “Jean and Alain, good job. Be careful, the terrorists might still be out there.”

  The men nodded and disappeared, and Peter swallowed a groan. His left arm barely obeyed the commands from his brain, and he fumbled when he pulled out a medi-kit from a pocket. The woman had weak, rapid pulse, and cold, moist skin.

  She might be going into shock.

  He fumbled a cylinder into the automatic syringe and pressed it against her neck. A moment later, her breathing steadied. Her face morphed into Rachael’s for a moment, but it was just his mind playing tricks on him.