by Mark Zubro
Mike sat next to Joe. He felt his husband’s leg pressed against his throughout the meal. Mike cast numerous glances at him, but Joe gave no visible sign that anything was out of order.
When they were almost finished, Jack said, “I want to thank all of you. I love you guys.” Jack put his arm around Mike’s shoulders.
Mike got teary eyed.
After they were finished eating, Meganvilia and Ray left for a nearby drag bar. Meganvilia had been invited to perform his famed “Dance of the Toreador.” Mike had seen it before. He was not eager to witness his friend in black stretch pants and a jacket encased in excess glitter and dripping with golden fringe. For his act Meganvilia sang two songs from famed girl groups of the early sixties. His voice was awful, his phrasing inaccurate, his ability to be on key erratic. Crowds loved him. Mike was unable to figure out why. They did seem to be laughing with Meganvilia and not at him.
Because of the storm, he doubted if anyone would show up for the performance. A foot of snow, however, was not enough to deter Meganvilia. Mike doubted if snow drifts twenty feet high would stop Meganvilia. The drag queen could smell an audience from miles away.
Jack had tentative plans to join a few of his peers for some teenage celebrating. Mike had heard of past tournaments with furniture bashing, drinking, food fights, plain old fights, stuff thrown out windows, and wrestling in rooms, halls, lobbies. Darker stories told of violence and rape.
Mike knew the streets were crazy after finals, but he didn’t think anyone would be leaving the hotel in this kind of weather. The seventeen-year-old had proven himself responsible numerous times. At some point he had to trust him.
While in the elevator going back up to their suite, Joe draped an arm around Mike’s shoulders. Mike felt the heaviness. He knew something was still wrong.
When they entered the suite, Joe didn’t break the contact. Jack went to the washroom to clean up before going out. Mike heard the sound of the shower start up, a sure sign that people of the opposite sex would be part of the celebration.
Joe said, “We need to...”
He didn’t complete the sentence. He collapsed to the floor.
CHAPTER SIX
Joe was unconscious. His body trembled and shook with spasm after spasm. Mike wondered if he was having an intergalactic seizure. After a minute the quaking eased to occasional twitches. Joe’s skin was a sickly white, and his breath came in shallow gasps. Mike tried calling Joe’s name. He knelt on the floor and cradled Joe’s head in his arms. His skin was cold and clammy. Mike pleaded, “Come on, Joe, wake up. Please. Come on.”
After a few seconds he realized that chanting his unconscious husband’s name was not a help. He didn’t have even a modicum of a notion of how to cure him. Mike considered calling 911. Maybe an Earth doctor couldn’t figure out what was wrong, but maybe the Earth doctor would be less helpless than he was. Mike couldn’t let Joe lie here and die.
Mike leaned back on his legs. Jack would be out of the washroom soon. What would he tell his nephew? How would he explain to him not calling 911?
Joe’s eyes began to flutter open. The twitching had been reduced to occasional tremors. His face remained ghastly pale. The familiar tingle was almost nonexistent.
“I’ve got to get to my ship,” Joe gasped.
Mike continued to hold him in his arms.
“It hasn’t stopped snowing,” Mike said. “I don’t even know if the Interstate is open.”
Joe said, “We’ve got to get to my ship. I don’t know if I can survive another attack like that.”
Mike asked, “What’s wrong with your energy field?”
“I don’t know. This thing is truly powerful.”
“I’ve got that implant. Should it be affecting me?”
“I don’t think so.” With Mike’s help, Joe managed to sit up. He took out his communicator and began taping on the front. Minutes ticked away. Mike heard Jack’s shower stop. The boy would be out soon.
An intense blue glow filled the room. Joe’s finger whirled over the front of his communicator. The blue aura flickered out. Joe screamed, slumped to the floor, and dropped the communicator. This time he did not lose consciousness. Mike knelt next to him. When Joe began moaning and swaying from side to side, Mike held on to him as best he could.
“What’s happening to you?” Mike asked.
“The probe is sending out psychic waves tuned to the frequency of the police implants in my brain. That must be how it is circumventing my automatic protection.”
“Can’t you destroy it?”
“That’s what I tried a few minutes ago. You saw the result. I don’t know what I’m going to be able to do.”
“Because you tried to destroy it, does it know for sure you’re here?”
“Yes.”
“Will your attempts alert your planet?”
“Probably.”
“Is it going to kill you?”
“Not if I can help it.”
Joe took in deep gasping breaths for several moments. When his breathing was back to normal, he said, “I had no idea probes had such power. The authorities don’t tell a low-level detective such as myself about everything they have in their arsenal.”
Joe picked up his communicator. This time he only tapped a few times. He gazed at the read-out. He tapped again, waited for the new read-out. Four times he repeated the maneuver then he shook it violently and tried a fifth time. “I can’t do any more with this,” he said. “I have to get to my ship.”
“Why didn’t they send a probe like this to find the criminal alien in the first place?”
“Sending out probes is only good if you’ve got a pretty specific sector of the galaxy to send them to.” For several seconds Joe’s back arched, and he moaned in pain. His body trembled for a few moments, then stopped. “If we can’t get to the ship, we’ve got to block the psychic waves. That will help, I hope.”
Joe fumbled with his communicator. His hands trembled so badly, he dropped it. As Joe reached to pick it up, he screamed in agony. He fell sideways. His body twisted. He rolled onto his back and arched himself off the ground. He seemed to hang suspended from his heels and tip of his head.
Jack walked out of his bedroom. He saw what was happening and hurried over. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “I heard noises.”
“Communicator,” Joe mumbled.
Mike picked it up and handed it to him. Joe dropped it and screamed again.
Mike held the communicator. He tried putting it into Joe’s hand and holding it there, but the alien was shivering uncontrollably.
“Defense,” Joe mumbled.
“Jack’s here,” Mike said.
Joe’s eyes met the kid’s. “Can’t be helped. Blue defense. Hurry.”
“Should I call 911?” Jack asked. He dashed to the phone and picked up the receiver.
“No!” Mike ordered. “Not 911.” He took the communicator from Joe’s hand. Mike took the device and tried to remember what Joe had told him about how to make the defense mechanism go into effect. He fumbled with the front, letting his fingers race over the simple-looking instrument in the pattern Joe had taught him.
The alien had figured teaching Mike how to use his defense was one of the simplest things he could learn, and one of the most essential if something went wrong. Mike tried to focus his mind on the mental exercises Joe had taught him to use simultaneously with the manual manipulation on the face of the communicator. Mike felt his fingers as clumsy appendages compared to the delicate and knowing touch Joe used.
Again and again Mike tried the combination of movements he remembered and that he’d practiced just the night before. Nothing happened.
Mike realized Jack was kneeling next to him on the floor. “What are you doing, Uncle Mike? What’s going on?”
“It won’t work,” Mike said. He was near tears with frustration as Joe’s body continued to tremble. His skin was cold to the touch.
“Use yours,” Joe mumbled. He screamed again. Mike wonde
red if the screams were going to draw people to their room. He grabbed his communicator from his pants pocket and put Joe’s on the ground. Joe had told him that the communicators were designed specifically for their users. Joe had been forced to modify Mike’s to coincide with his Earthling physiology. Because he’d had to improvise with Earth tools and materials for those he lacked from his own planet, he wasn’t sure of its power and effectiveness.
Mike tried to concentrate on everything Joe had ever taught him. After several minutes he thought he noticed a meager blue flash.
“Yes,” Joe said. “Yes, do that.”
Mike repeated the sequence, his mind tuned out everything else in the room. His thoughts seemed to merge with the piece of metal in his hand. A blue glow spread out from the communicator. First, it reached toward Joe’s. The connection held, wavered for several moments, then began to revolve and grow. In seconds the luminescence encompassed the three of them. As the blue glow steadied and solidified, Joe’s body seemed to relax.
“Uncle Mike?” Jack asked.
“It’s going to be okay,” Mike said. He had no confidence in the platitude, but it was all he could think of to say. First, Joe had to be saved. Dealing with Jack would have to wait.
Jack looked at his uncle and Joe. “What’s going on, Uncle Mike?” The boy’s voice had a squeak in it Mike hadn’t noticed in several years.
Mike looked at Joe. The alien’s eyes were closed. The body was warmer, and the trembling was almost nonexistent.
Joe opened his eyes for several seconds and muttered. “Ship. Sleep.” He closed his eyes. In moments his breathing became regular and the trembling stopped. He was deeply asleep. With simple experimentation, Mike discovered that he didn’t have to concentrate every instant for the energy field to remain intact.
Mike thought that it would be great if he could just beam his nephew to another location, but Joe had told Mike that beaming people from place to place was an Earth movie fantasy.
Mike drew a deep breath. He felt that truth was his only option. He said, “Joe’s an alien.”
Jack sat back on the floor and crossed his legs in a lotus position. He eyes locked on Mike’s.
“He’s what?”
Mike sighed. “He’s from another planet.”
Jack glanced at Joe then back at his uncle.
Jack began, “I’m not sure I...”
“I don’t expect you to believe...” Mike began.
“Really?”
“Now is not the time I would begin to lie to you.”
“I guess I was more expressing astonishment than trying to say you were lying. Actually, this would be the perfect time to lie to me. I’m in the middle of a huge secret here.”
“Yeah,” Mike said. “I just hope it doesn’t get us all killed.”
“Could that happen?”
“We won’t let anything harm you.” Mike hoped that was possible. He didn’t know if his assurances allayed his nephew’s fears.
Jack had all the braggadocio and machismo and self-confidence of a cocky seventeen-year-old who’d grown up too fast. He also had the insecurities and doubts concomitant with his age in addition to those lingering from his ugly childhood. He could still be a kid at times. Mike was glad of that. He would sacrifice himself before he let anything bad happen to Jack.
“We’ve got to get Joe back to his ship. He’s being influenced by a probe sent by his home star system. It could kill him. Earth has no medical facilities that can help him. Being at his ship will also explain a lot and help you understand and believe. The blue light you see is an energy field that is protecting him for the moment.”
“Aliens don’t just show up in Champaign-Urbana,” Jack said.
“Well, actually he showed up at my job in Chicago. I’ll explain more on our way. He could be dying. We’ve got to get moving now.”
“Where is his ship?”
“In Lake Michigan off Chicago.”
Jack pointed to window and the storm outside. “We’re not going to be able to drive ten feet in that, much less back to Chicago.”
“I’ve got to make the attempt. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how long this force field will hold. I’m dealing with interstellar forces I have only the slightest notion of how to fight or influence.”
“Why did he tell you about himself?” Jack asked.
“It’s a long story,” Mike said. “I’ll tell you all of it on the way to Chicago. We’ve got to get started.” With Meganvilia and Ray out in the storm and Lennon Kazakel a looming menace, Mike didn’t want to leave Jack alone in the hotel. He was worried about the boy’s psychological state and the damage his monstrous father might inflict on him by his very presence much less some vile physical assault, but he was also a little worried about what Jack might do. Mike hated Jack’s father, but he didn’t want the teenager, in a moment of rage, to make a mistake that would haunt him for the rest of his life. All of seventeen Jack might be, but he was still a child, and he needed psychological as well as physical protection from his father.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mike dressed the alien and himself with hats, gloves, scarves, boots, and heavy overcoats. Jack wore a fur-lined leather jacket and black leather gloves. He’d explained to Mike that wrestlers were too macho to, “Wear all that other stuff.” Mike figured if the kid wanted to be cold that was his problem.
“We don’t have time to pack,” Mike said.
“This is unreal,” Jack said.
Every few minutes Joe woke for a few seconds at time. He had no new attacks, but he was not awake long enough to assist them in any substantial way.
As they approached the door of the suite, Joe propped between them, Mike asked, “How the hell are we supposed to hide an ethereal blue glow from anyone we meet?”
“Why don’t I bring the car around, Uncle Mike? We’ll have less distance to take him.”
Mike thought it was a good idea, but he was a little afraid to let his nephew out of his sight. He trusted the kid, but this was immense news. How many people upon hearing it would take it with any degree of equanimity? How many would be able to keep their mouth shut?
“We better call Meganvilia,” Mike said. “If we just vanish, he’ll invoke the gods themselves to find us.”
“He doesn’t know?” Jack asked.
“Nope. Just me and you.”
“He’d be cool about it,” Jack said.
“If I ever have a need to tell him, I hope so.” Mike called. Meganvilia and Ray did not answer their phone. Mike was relieved. He could leave a message about having an emergency and not have to deal with Meganvilia mentioning that driving off during the height of a blizzard was nuts.
After Mike hung up, he asked his nephew, “Are you scared?”
Jack nodded.
“You believe me?”
“Yeah, I do. First, why would you lie? Second, there’s nothing on Earth that could cause that glow.”
“The idea took me a while to get used to.”
“I’m not used to it yet. Are you afraid I’ll run off and tell someone and not come back?”
Mike decided to go with honesty. “A little.”
“I thought of that, but you’ve been more than a dad to me for four years. I trust you.” He gulped. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Can we let that aura around him die?” Jack asked.
“I don’t want to risk it. Let’s try this. It’s after midnight. We can take the stairs down instead of the elevator. It’s more likely to be in use than the stairs, and there’s more of a chance someone could randomly get on at any floor. We’ll use the side exit nearest the parking lot. We can avoid the lobby if we go that way.” Mike figured that at the very least the more public areas of the hotel would have employees behind the check-in desk and a possible security guard lurking nearby, or a random hotel employee doing his or her nocturnal job.
Mike thought about taking the time to check out. He’d given them his credit card
so it wasn’t as if they were sneaking out without paying. He could call the hotel back and straighten everything out if he ever had time again on Earth to do so.
They had to wait several minutes before the hallway was clear. Mike and Jack each took one of Joe’s arms and draped it over a shoulder. They were about to exit the room when the elevator binged, and they heard the door open. They retreated back into the room. They heard footsteps approaching and then passing their location. The treads stopped a few seconds later. They heard a door open and close.
