by Greg Curtis
Often he missed the small parts of daily life he’d come to expect. The coffee for breakfast, the trip down to the town on a Friday for fish and chips. Their own fish tasted somewhat strange and gave him the runs though their sausages, now they were something else. Fishing, hiking or just mucking around on the lake were also absent, but then he was living in a city and Cyrea had promised to take him out to the country soon.
He missed his house and his lake, and even his neighbours. He’d hardly ever seen them when he lived there, but just knowing they were there was something that had slowly sunk into even his jaded soul over the years. Now of course if they returned he would have new neighbours, as the Leinians had already built fifty apartments on his thirty eight acres, so that the embassy staff, especially those with families, could enjoy a proper home by the lake. He quite liked that. Even if he never returned.
The Leinian equivalent of the TV was beyond his understanding, something to do with having over four hundred channels, and no decent viewer guide. But on the positive side their new apartment had a nice view, a major swimming pool on the roof, pleasant neighbours who nearly all now spoke English, and a whole new city to explore. He didn’t really need to watch the idiot box.
The reactions of the locals were a shock as well. On Earth he had been a nobody for his whole life. Intentionally so. That was no longer true. Here he occasionally felt like a rock star. Everyone, and it actually was everyone, knew him. They knew his life story, had witnessed the most intimate details of his love life, which still made him turn red, had cheered as he fought by their side, and celebrated the birth of Hope with him.
Every day he was met by people who wanted to shake his hand. It appeared that they were adapting to that particular Earth custom quite well. And the children; from time to time they just mobbed him, clamouring for his gene print. It was strange and embarrassing, especially for an agent, but it was also warm and welcoming. Sooner or later he knew, or at least hoped, it would ease off and he would return to some sort of normal life, whatever that might be. But for now it was quite pleasant and also useful as he found himself never short of guides to his new world.
He was adapting.
In truth his greatest problem wasn’t trying to understand the larger features of their society. Many of them were similar enough to those at home. It was the little things that kept tripping him up. Finding doors and door handles on buildings, working out how to use their gadgets, catching the right floating bus, even reading street signs. The language tapes were still a long way from ready to be tested on humans, and his linguistic abilities were constantly being tested. In fact when they were finally developed he understood it would be his linguistic knowledge that would form much of the basis of them.
Sometimes it all became too much for him, and he needed to take a little time out, just sitting on a park bench or staring out over the city from the balcony of their apartment. But that was only occasionally. More often he felt much as the great explorers must have when they first found their new lands. Overawed and nearly stunned with wonder as he kept making discovery after discovery. New people, new food, art, music, in fact an entire world. He was like a travel drunk tourist.
He wasn’t alone in that though. Doctor Hayes was having a blast as he put it. Sarel was taking him around the planet on a sightseeing expedition, which unsurprisingly included the various hospitals. Apparently the Leinians had over a hundred different types of hospital. They kept getting reports back from them most evenings. Being only seven or eight months along, she could still go out for a day trip and as a result they were also enjoying the local night life. Another strangely human activity which the Leinians had their own family friendly version of.
The same was true for Heather and Dafi, and Rebecca and Ayer. All were quickly finding their feet in this new world and he suspected none would want to return in a hurry. And who could blame them? The world was strange but still a paradise.
“What would you do? I mean on Earth you’re rich, or independently secure, or whatever you call it. Here there’s no such thing. You’re as poor as the rest of us. Your money is useless. We don’t use it. We don’t have stocks and shares you can invest in. We don’t even have a stock market.” Which had taken some getting used to. They had money, sort of, but no real concept of interest, finance, companies, or any of the other economic realities of Earth. It was a nice world to live in, but not one where you could become rich. They didn’t know what rich was. But neither did they have poor. Instead they had an allowance which everyone got no matter what they did. David himself was receiving it, as were the other humans.
“And you’re too young to be retired. At least seventy years too young, so you’d have to find a job. We wouldn’t want you to do nothing. Everyone is expected to work until they’re no longer able. Besides you’re at least as fit now as you were ten years ago, and you’ll stay healthy for a long time. You’d be bored doing nothing.” She probably had a point, but he figured he could keep himself occupied in this strange and wondrous land for at least a few more months at least.
“I know. So what sort of work could I do?” The funny thing was he wasn’t even upset at the thought of no longer being a man of leisure. Cyrea was right. He did feel fitter than he had in years, and was appalled at the thought of being a lotus eater. Besides, he didn’t want to be the only unemployed human on the planet. He’d be letting the side down.
The others had all quite quickly found their places. John was updating his medical training with Sarel while they waited for their daughter to arrive. He planned on returning to Earth in a year or so, and spreading the new knowledge, or as much as he was allowed to. Rebecca had returned to her studies and despite her coming from a less advanced culture, was doing well. In three years, give or take, she’d be qualified with a local degree in comparative history. Even now with only a single year of college behind her, she was being asked for her opinions on a wide range of historical arguments. Meanwhile Heather had gone bush with Dafi, in preparation for starting her advanced training in ecology. Who knew she’d already had a PhD in zoology? Not David. Either way, she too was carving out a new life for herself. It was only him, who was stuck in no man’s land. Unable to do the only thing he’d ever been trained to do.
Then again, when he thought about returning to the work force, he discovered that an emotion long since departed from him had returned without his noticing; hope. Then again maybe it wasn’t really hope. Maybe it was faith that had returned. Faith in the Leinians. Faith that they were people he could work for. Perhaps even trust. He didn’t know exactly where or when it had returned. Probably it had been gradual. But still something deep within him had changed. For the first time in years he felt as though he wanted to do something for Cyrea and her people. To contribute. Without the fear of his work being perverted. Of doing wrong.
These people simply didn’t have any concept of subterfuge, and their vices and crimes were for the most part kindergarten type mistakes. They had alcohol and some basic stimulants, but thanks to their medical knowledge, no actual chance of addiction. Their nightlife had a complete lack of the sleaze he was used to from the large cities, but then when they almost exclusively mated for life, a concept he was still coming to terms with, there was no value in pornography, and prostitution was an unknown crime. And of course with only a simplistic concept of money and no chance of extreme wealth or poverty, gambling and theft were petty crimes at best, while blackmail and extortion were unheard of.
Theirs was a society where police were almost unnecessary, though of course they did occasionally have other problems. People still failed to get on with one another occasionally, and there were sometimes fights, especially when egos were on the line. Just like humans many Leinians did have surprisingly fragile senses of self-worth, though usually it was around who’s latest book or play was the best, a critique of a sculpture or a piece of music. With half the planet devoted to various artistic endeavours, perhaps that wasn’t so surprising. What was s
urprising was how generally simple such disputes were. These people had never developed the concept of a feud or a really good act of revenge, and punching someone in the face was about as complicated as they got.
This was a world where a man like himself wasn’t just obsolete, he was irrelevant, and he loved that. This was a world where when people said something, they actually meant it. Where there were no hidden agendas, no secrets and no agents.
This was a world where a man like him could dream of working again. If he could find a job.
For the longest time he’d done nothing, not truly because of the injury, or the things he had seen and done, nor even because he had the money to live comfortably. It had been because everything he’d done before had been twisted. Polluted by politics and evil. Contaminated by secrecy and fear. Or it had been done for the wrong reasons or for the wrong people. Even when they had told him it was right, even when he knew he’d saved lives, it had all been tainted. But now Cyrea and her people could give him the one thing he’d been missing; a feeling of righteousness.
He discovered he was looking forward to doing something again; anything. He was looking forward to doing his duty as he hadn’t done since his first days when he had joined the army. But there was a problem too. It was simply the reality of what he was actually qualified to do. Not only was Leinian society a totally alien world, it was centuries more advanced, and he was completely out of date. There was nothing he could actually do. He shared his doubts with her as he had before, and got the same answer.
“I don’t know, actually Love, I really don’t. Ayn Lar would love to have you advising the Earth mission about security. He’s said so any number of times. But you won’t go against your people, a view which we respect though it is silly. Your training in languages and culture is redundant here. We have only one language, one culture, and we learn new ones through machines. Your genius for unarmed combat is unparalleled, but something we simply don’t want. It’s just too dangerous, and we don’t want our people to be that deadly.”
Yet whenever David trained these days, enjoying his new found fitness, he had an audience in the billions. They might not want it, but her people were still fascinated by the concept of full contact combat. And he was getting better, having now beaten every version of a ten made. Not that it was easy, but with preparation and study, they could no longer surprise him. He knew their moves, their strengths and weaknesses, and with two good legs, plenty of practice, and full fitness he could take them. Moreover his own skills, his style and moves were being built into a new form of android, which naturally enough was already one of the most anticipated models in years. He carefully didn’t remind her of that however. Cyrea disapproved both of his taking such risks and the extent to which he was still training in killing. For him it was simply a challenge. For her it crossed the pale.
“Nor are we interested in undercover work. We act openly or not at all. You could move into security in non-Earth related areas, but you’ll need years of training to understand our technology or that of the peoples you’d be dealing with. Though the same is true for every other occupation. But at least security is something you have a background in.” Which about agreed with his own analysis. Cyrea was trying to be as gentle as she could, but he still knew he was redundant here. A dinosaur. Worse, a carnosaur. A primitive killing machine. And everyone knew it.
The Leinians were still far from happy about the way he’d dealt with Dimock, and there’d been a large number of calls for him to face justice. Some still considered his acts as murder. Trellin was one of them as he repeatedly called for him to face trial from his punishment cell. That was one alien who would never like him. Most though simply viewed them as far too violent. But holding them back was the knowledge that had he failed, millions, even billions of people, perhaps including them as well, could have been killed, the fact that he had warned them of what would happen when they refused to let him kill him, and the fact that they had failed to restrain Dimock, leading to the nightmare in the first place. Then of course there was the fact that at the time he was an Earthman. As had been Dimock. And on Earth, he was a free man.
The US government had immediately sanctified the killing, at least for the moment, because they didn’t want the stench of their involvement in Dimock’s past crimes now being displayed to the entire universe as having anything to do with the current administration. Heads were going to roll and they didn't want them to be theirs. So they had to show their public support for Dimock’s death. He guessed that hundreds of other secret projects were probably also being quickly and quietly shelved as well, while those responsible for any of them were surely being retired, even sent out of the country. The US was washing its hands of them, blindly unaware that the Leinians knew many of the details of them anyway.
The UN was likely to endorse his actions too, even as they publicly condemned the US for carrying out such monstrous research. But half the Security Council members had already known and tried to deal with Dimock even as they had tried to steal the technology in him, and they were desperately trying to keep that secret. The other half were simply glad to be alive, and even happier to have something to blast the US with. David’s evidence was their weapon, and they wanted him free to testify. Besides, as his self-appointed lawyers pointed out, he couldn’t have killed anyone, since Dimock had already been executed. Three times.
As it was, the press back on Earth was still having a field day with Dimock as they kept tallying up his crimes. Thus far the body count was put at something over seventy thousand, nearly all of whom they laid the blame for at the CIA and DOD’s feet. Already heads were rolling at the highest levels and at least a dozen had now been fired or sent out to early retirement. More were likely to follow, while the endless succession of doctors who had experimented on Dimock, at least those that still lived, were being sent for trial. Faced with a prosecution fuelled by the righteous anger of hundreds of thousands of victims' relatives and the outrage of billions, they weren’t likely to ever leave jail, though most still had no understanding that they’d done anything wrong.
David, having been granted a presidential pardon and immunity for the shooting, was likely to be the prosecution’s chief witness in the trials. One of the few still living. Several of the Leinian doctors who had removed Dimock’s implants, had also been asked if they could give evidence and had kindly agreed. For them it was both their civic duty and a chance to spell out exactly why such experimentation had been outlawed among the stars and they were looking forward to it.
In time David knew that if the calls from the Leinians to try him grew loud enough, his righteous status would be rescinded and he would be sacrificed. It was simply politics in their brave new universe. Yet the Leinians weren’t so much clamouring for his arrest as they were worried both about and for him. A strange people, they didn’t consider him so much a murderer as they did a victim. A victim of both his training and the events that had shaped his world.
They had a point, and though David wouldn’t have wanted to admit it publicly, since killing Dimock he’d suffered an endless series of nightmares as his subconscious tried to make sense of the fact that the monster was truly dead. He had lived in fear and shame for so long it was difficult coming to grips with the fact that he was finally free of his demon. It was difficult to let go. Thus far though, only Cyrea knew the full extent of them, and he hoped she would keep it that way, though she repeatedly suggested his seeing a therapist and in a world with no true privacy, some of her concerns had become known more widely.
The Leinians wanted to help him. In fact it had gotten to the point where they now actually had shows on the box where learned professionals discussed his condition and treatment. How quickly they forgot the walking obscenity that had called himself Dimock.
In any case, since he had decided to become a Leinian officially, their justice was something he would have to face sooner or later. It didn’t scare him though. If he’d truly done wrong he would accept his puni
shment as a man. Besides, he suspected it would likely be some form of therapy knowing them. They considered him not so much a criminal in this matter, as mentally ill. Hopefully only temporarily, and only so far as Dimock had been concerned. Maybe they had a point too. He could accept that now that he knew Dimock was dead.
“Actually. I don’t think that’ll be such an issue.” They both jumped as Lar’s voice came from somewhere out of thin air in front of them. He himself was nowhere to be seen. That was one thing David thought he might never get used to; the complete lack of privacy. No doubt Lar had been monitoring them for some time, letting the computers analyse the conversation until they heard what he wanted to hear, and then getting them to notify him so he could speak his piece. He didn’t waste any time.
“David, you know our mission, and you know your people. I don’t think you actually have any objection to helping keep our people safe while they deal with yours. Not anymore. Especially when you and I and all the rest of us now know that we are all the same people. It’s not an us against them situation. And in any case David even if it was, you are both us and them.” Which was true, David realized. Sometime in the last few months his outlook on things had changed.
