by Mark Zubro
Mike relented. Rosemary hadn’t changed from putting her needs before anyone else’s since his earliest memories. Ajax was her latest in a long string of true loves and passions that would last forever.
Mike said, “He’s doing fine. I sent you the link so you could watch his wrestling matches. I sent you his latest report card, and you saw the quarterly report that we submitted to the judge.”
“I got a package of stuff in the mail.”
Which meant, Mike was sure, that she hadn’t perused any of it. Rosemary said, “I’m scared, Mike, my ex threatened me, and Ajax doesn’t want trouble.”
“Jack’s your son. Who’s more important?”
She began to weep. When she regained control she said, “Mike you’ve got to help me.”
He didn’t say, “No, I don’t, you silly twit.” He held his impatience in and said, “Your significant other of the moment won’t protect you?”
“I don’t want any trouble. This guy is perfect for me.”
“They’ve all been perfect for you.”
“Don’t be mean, Michael. I’m scared.”
“Go to Mom and Dad’s. Call the police if necessary.”
They talked for a few more minutes. At the end of their conversation Rosemary said, “Tell Jack I love him.”
“I will.” He hung up and gave Joe the news.
“Is there anything to be done legally?” Joe asked.
“I doubt it, but I can call my lawyer when we get back to Chicago. We’ll just have to be vigilant. If Kazakel shows up and tries something, we call the cops.”
Joe spent the evening tapping keys on his computer, monitoring his warning system and the progress of the approaching probe. Meanwhile, Mike practiced performing simple tasks with his communicator. One out of every ten times he tried to make the thing work, he was able to get a faint blue glow for about three seconds.
After an hour Mike gave up and tried to follow what Joe was doing. As he often did when watching Joe, he felt like a precocious five-year-old left out of adult activities. Joe never set out to treat him as such, but the feeling was almost inevitable. After a few minutes of watching, Mike picked up one of the books he’d brought along to read. One was an Agatha Christie mystery and another a copy of Advanced Astral Mechanics that Joe was helping him to understand. Both books had an equal ability to put him to sleep. Agatha because she was safe, enjoyable, and familiar; astral physics because it bored him to tears. However, Mike felt having an alien for a lover required him to make some sacrifices. Reading astral physics was one.
About quarter to eleven he walked over to Joe and put his hand on his husband’s shoulder. The computer screen did not show a thing in any known Earth language. Mike saw a vast series of dots that seemed to be floating in milky liquid.
“Is that the latest news?” Mike asked.
Joe pointed at a cluster of dots in the upper portion of the screen. “That is. The probe hasn’t passed the outer boundaries of the solar system. It has slowed down. I don’t know why.”
“Can anything on Earth detect it?”
“I doubt it. Certainly not that far away. Even if it appeared on Earth radar, it wouldn’t do any good. It’s a fairly simple drone, but it is still far beyond anything the technology down here could inhibit. It would be done with its detecting long before it came within range of anything Earth could do about it.”
“They detected your ship when you first arrived.”
“Barely, and that was more my mistake than their ability. I underestimated what your planet could do.”
“But they did spot you. Maybe you could help them detect this new one. They could send bombs or the space shuttle and try and capture it or shoot it down.”
“It could have a self-destruct or a self-defense mechanism. Why would they shoot it down?”
“Paranoia? Stupidity? Remember the FBI couldn’t prove anything, but they had suspicions about you. They probably still keep us under surveillance. Are you going to be able to stop that thing?”
“I don’t know. Your suggestion about somehow letting Earth detectors know about it isn’t all that bad. They couldn’t destroy it and would have a tough time even capturing it, but they might be able to hinder it in a way that would not raise the suspicions of my planet.”
“But if you’ve got technology more advanced than Earth, couldn’t you do it more efficiently?”
“Efficiency is not our problem yet. I would have to be very careful. I don’t know what the probe is programmed to do as it gets closer to Earth. Like I said, I don’t want to do something to it that would alert the people on my planet to my continued existence.”
“I thought these were simple tracking probes.”
“That’s what they would be normally. This is more than that.” He tapped the keys on his computer for another few moments, then shrugged. “I can’t do anything more from here. I need to be at my ship.”
Joe’s ship was buried hundreds of feet under the bottom of Lake Michigan. It could be summoned to the surface by using the communicator. That maneuver was one of the first Joe had taught Mike who had asked, “What the hell am I supposed to do with a ship I’ve summoned that I can’t get inside of and if I was inside of, couldn’t make work?”
Joe had said, “I’m teaching you some basics. Your physiology seems to be the largest barrier to the use of the communicator rather than any lack of ability. It’s a combination of physical touch and mental ability. You’ll get the hang of it.”
Mike doubted if he ever would. He said to Joe, “Do you need to get back to your ship tonight?”
“We’ve got a least a week before the thing gets close enough for me to need to take any drastic action. I’d have a hard time doing something subtle from this distance. Maybe I could just lead it on a merry chase for several light years.”
“How long would that take? Would you have to leave?”
“Not long. My ship can go a great deal faster than any probe, and you could come with, see a few sights in the universe.”
“We could open a travel agency. Charge money for intergalactic bus rides. Hell, if people are willing to pay millions for a ride in the space shuttle, think of the kind of profit we could make on trips to Mars, Jupiter, or the next solar system.”
There was a tap on the door of their suite. Joe disconnected his communicator from the computer and slipped it in his pocket. The screen returned to a neutral pastoral desktop screen. He shut the lid. Moments later Jack walked into the room.
“How come you knocked?” Mike asked.
“I didn’t want to accidentally walk in on you guys making out.”
Meganvilia burst in behind him. Ray strode in with his hands in his back pockets. Meganvilia was in an evening gown. “We found the boy in the lobby. He was ogling presumably non-lesbian women.”
Mike said, “I thought you were studying videos and going over possible moves.”
“Coach and I worked for a few hours. You can only do so much. I wanted to relax for a few minutes. I think he did, too. You know how the coaches get together and party after lights out. Meganvilia scared away this girl who I thought might be interested in me.”
Meganvilia harrumphed, “You can’t be spilling sperm the night before a match.”
“I didn’t read that in the rule book,” Joe said.
“It’s common knowledge,” Meganvilia said. “Studly athletes don’t screw before a big game.”
“That’s a myth,” Jack said.
“How would you know?” Meganvilia demanded.
Mike said, “We are not going to discuss Jack’s sexual activity, solo or with others. Also not open for discussion is the state of his virginity, or the sexual prowess of athletes, or anything else concerning the physical activity involved in a relationship.”
“Prude,” Meganvilia snapped.
Jack smiled. “I know enough. You guys have been in locker rooms. We talk about sex all the time. We compare techniques, experiences, stuff.”
Mike held up
a hand. “I do not want any more information.”
Ray said, “Meganvilia’s just jealous because he’s afraid anyone might be having more sex than he is.”
Meganvilia said, “I’m going to set the record for sexual prowess that will last for the entire millennium.”
“Well, good luck,” Mike said.
“I’m going to bed,” Jack said.
Ray said, “And if we’re going to be setting any records we’ll have to get to our own room.”
Meganvilia linked his arm with Ray’s and swept toward the door. “Good night, good sleeping.” He glanced at Jack, but whispered to Mike and Joe, “Good S-E-X, and see you in the morning.”
“I can spell,” Jack said.
“They teach you far too much in school,” Meganvilia declared. He swished his torso so his cape swirled about himself, squared his shoulders, and marched out. Mike thought that only Meganvilia could make walking out of a hotel room in downstate Illinois into a grand operatic gesture.
Mike said, “Jack, your mom called. Your dad’s out of prison. He knows we’re down here for the tournament.”
Jack said, “Fuck him. I hate him. If I see him I’ll...” He paused. “I don’t know what I’ll do. I’d like to hurt him. I don’t want him near me.”
Mike said, “Why don’t you leave him to Joe and me? You concentrate on the tournament. We can alert the tournament officials just in case he does show up. With all the snow, he might not even be able to make it. We can deal with him when we get back to Chicago.”
“I wish you wouldn’t have even told me.”
Mike said, “I thought about that, but I believe people who keep these kinds of secrets are arrogant fools. How you choose to handle the information is your decision. Of course, we will do everything we can to help you with whatever you decide. You know we won’t let any harm come to you. I think you can handle this. You’ve had time away from him. You’re a good kid. I think you have good instincts. You’ve got support and confidence you didn’t have before. You’re also physically bigger, smarter, more aware of yourself. I don’t think you need to worry.”
“He’s the one who should worry if he gets near me.”
Mike let it drop. Joe and Mike retired to their room in the suite. As they began to undress, Mike said, “You look exhausted.”
“This probe is awfully powerful.”
“Are you sure we don’t need to leave?”
“Yes, I’m fine, just a little tired.”
In bed, Mike held his husband. He felt Joe’s body relax and fall asleep. He enjoyed the closeness with his husband. With Jack in the apartment, they’d had to schedule their love making around the child’s absence as all parents did. The sex with Joe was the best he’d ever had. He caressed and held Joe until he himself fell asleep.
Mike woke late into the night. Joe, who most nights slept little, was dozing in a chair next to the bed. Being as quiet as possible, Mike slipped into the living room of the suite. He found Jack sitting in an arm chair. He wore bright yellow and gray boxer shorts and white athletic socks. The boy was staring out the window at the parking lot ten stories below.
Mike walked over and stood next to him. Jack nodded at his uncle.
“Can’t sleep?” Mike asked.
“I’m a little nervous,” Jack admitted.
“Worried about your dad?”
“Some, I guess. Most of the time I don’t think about him. I’ll always know what he did to me, but I can get past that. The memories still sting once in a while, but it’s fading. No, I’m just thinking mostly about tomorrow. That’s fun and exciting and absolutely the best.”
“Anything I can do?” If the boy asked, Mike would do whatever he could to hold him and protect him and save him.
“You’re great, Uncle Mike, but there’s nothing. It’s just the night before a match. I didn’t get this far in the tournament last year. I kind of wanted to enjoy the feelings of the night before a possible championship. It might be the only time in my life that this happens. Tomorrow is going to be one of the biggest days of my life. It feels kind of weird, like I’m on the edge of something, maybe on the edge of being an adult, but I’ve still got a major kid thing to do.”
Mike put his hand on his nephew’s shoulder and kneaded the muscle. “No matter if you win or lose, you’re a good kid. You’ll do fine.”
“I just don’t want to embarrass myself.”
“How would you do that?” Mike asked.
Jack shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You lost last year, and you survived fine.”
“I didn’t get this far last year. The pressure is different. Last year was my first time at this level at all. I guess I’m a little more confident and a little more scared.”
“You’ve got a good coach, been ranked all year, gone to camps, wrestled free style in the off season. You’ve exercised and watched your weight as much as anybody could. No one could possibly put in more hours of practice. If there’s a book printed on wrestling you haven’t read, we haven’t been able to find it. What more could you do? You’ve done your best up to now. You’ll do your best tomorrow. We’ll all be there to cheer you, and no matter what happens, we will love you.”
Jack put his hand on Mike’s. “Thanks Uncle Mike.” He nodded towards Joe and Mike’s room. He said, “I’ve never known Joe to look tired.”
“I’m sure he’ll be all right.” Mike wished he could be as confident as he hoped he sounded. “Even if we had to cart him off in an ambulance, I’m sure we’d wait until after the match.”
Mike knew Joe couldn’t afford to let an Earth doctor examine him. While the alien looked human, his interior differences would be evident to even the most ill-trained medical person.
“Don’t stay up too late,” Mike said. “Try and get some sleep. Win or lose, we’ll celebrate as much as you want.”
“Thanks Uncle Mike.” He stood up and unexpectedly hugged his uncle. Mike returned the brief embrace. Four years ago, before Mike and Joe’s intervention in Jack’s life, the boy would seldom permit anyone to touch him, and he never initiated any contact. The years of therapy and the consistency of Mike and Joe’s love had brought about a great change in the boy.
After Jack had been wrestling for a few months and having been in therapy for almost a year, Mike had asked, “If you don’t like to be touched by anyone, how come you can be in wrestling?”
Working with the therapist, Jack came up with two reasons. One, they were his peers and so not a threat. Two, when he felt he might be losing, he just remembered how much he hated his dad touching him, and his anger would most often carry him to victory.
His coaches had said that Jack wrestled with a rare intensity. He managed not to lose his temper yet invest more emotion than most of the other guys on the team.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next day Jack was whisked off by his coach a few minutes after finishing a hurried and minimal breakfast. After Joe made a last check with his communicator and computer on the advance of the probe, they left for the assembly hall.
Snow had continued to fall throughout the night. So far they’d had at least six inches with that much more predicted. Chicago had a foot of snow on the ground with even more expected. Mike hoped the roads would be clear by the next day. Mike didn’t relish the idea of being snowed in at the university. Nor did he look forward to driving through a raging blizzard to return to town. At the moment the roads and sidewalks around the university were well-trodden mush.
The first match Jack had was late in the morning. He had to weigh in first, as all wrestlers still in the tournament were required to do. The match ended in a fall in under a minute. Jack seemed as surprised as his opponent that he caught him in a spladdle, an advanced move.
Meganvilia went nuts. Today he wore a bright yellow tuxedo, a ruffled, pink paisley shirt, a pale blue bow tie, and a red handkerchief in the vest pocket of the jacket. His fur-lined purple cape and matching boots rested in an empty seat next to them. Mike
wondered if perhaps they shouldn’t have let Meganvilia do full drag to the event. It probably would have been less noticeable. Then again the only thing more noticeable than what he was wearing would be if a herd of flaming dragons ridden by wild tigers had rushed in.
After the first match Mike, Joe, Meganvilia, and Ray stood in a long line in one of the concession areas. Mike and Joe purchased hot dogs and sodas then stepped to the side. At the moment when Meganvilia was at the head of a line purchasing an excess of junk food and Ray was in the washroom, Mike asked Joe, “Are you influencing the outcome of this?”
Mike was confident that he knew Joe would not be interfering in Earth activities with his mental powers. He also knew that the alien’s ability to control minds could alter the course of all Earth history if he so wished. He’d asked him once why he didn’t go to war zones in different hot spots around the world and zap a few brains into acting rationally. Joe had repeated one of the prime rules controlling his behavior on less developed planets, that they were not allowed to interfere. “Wouldn’t this kind of interference make sense?” Mike had asked.
