Variations on Humanity

by Paul Eslinger

  “That’s wonderful,” Nanda said. She stepped closer to the bed and made eye contact with Samantha. “Are your eyes working better?”

  The woman tapped her cheek with her finger. “I can even see again without glasses. I’ve worn glasses since … since I was thirty-two. I got them three months after Michelle was born.”

  Nanda glanced at the daughter and raised one eyebrow.

  “I believe that’s correct. The old family pictures show her wearing glasses starting about then.”

  “Good.” Nanda turned back to Samantha and started asking more questions. The old woman coherently answered most of the questions.

  Michelle followed them out into the hall when they finished. She jerked her thumb to indicate her mother. “How long will these improvements last?”

  “She still has seven more treatments. She should continue to improve,” Nanda replied. “The benefits should last years, even decades.”

  Michelle looked dumbfounded, and then tears streamed from her eyes. “Thank you, thank you,” she gushed, grabbing Nanda in a fierce hug.

  Rhona had to look away to keep from laughing at the look on Nanda’s face. Nanda loved helping people physically, but she avoided physical touches.

  They visited five more patients including the man Rhona had seen playing checkers. All of them had shown phenomenal improvement.

  They returned to Linda’s office, and the administrator slumped in her chair. “Do you have more medicine? I can use it for the other six patients.”

  Judith set her briefcase on the desk, opened it, and spun it around. “Here are seven more sets of medicine and dietary supplements. The patients should start taking the supplements today.”

  “Seven more sets of medicine.” Linda made the statement into a question. “I only have six more patients.”

  “Correct.” Judith shrugged. “You can decide what happens to the final set. We hope to start marketing them in two months.”

  * * *

  Linda sat in the office looking at the briefcase after the visitors left. Nanda had deliberately brought one extra set of medicine. Why?

  Her thoughts flicked to her brother, Caleb. He had been virulently anti-Abantu after news reports about their presence had started circulating. The sight of Ceres in the night sky had seemed to push him over the edge into incoherent hatred.

  He and several of his buddies had just joined a new group. She could still hear his strident voice blasting out in what she had hoped would be a soothing dinner meeting. “We have to keep the human bloodline pure. Pure, that’s a good word. PURE–People United to Remove Extraterrestrials–will save this planet from those damned aliens.”

  Linda sighed as her thoughts returned to the office. She reached for the briefcase and removed one treatment pack. She looked at it for nearly a minute longer and then slipped it into her purse. There wasn’t any inventory control on this medicine.

  She would administer the other treatments to the patients starting in a few minutes. She would decide what to do with the other one. Maybe she would keep it concealed for two months. It certainly wasn’t going to Caleb…

  * * *

  At the airport, Gary Dye came in from tying down his Cessna 140 and marched to the desk manned by Matt Levitskaia. The airport had one 5,500-foot runway, but it was too small to have a real tower. Gary gestured towards the outside and his voice was hard. “That’s an Abantu shuttle out there.”

  Matt shrugged and held up his hands. “Yes, it is. It landed here about an hour ago.”

  “How many people got off?”

  “I don’t know. I talked to the pilot just before they landed. They paid the landing fee electronically.”

  A rancid expression settled on Gary’s face. “What are they doing here?” he demanded.

  Matt was starting to get irritated. “I don’t know. All I know is that their shuttle is approved by the FAA and they paid the landing fee.”

  “Licensed?”

  “No.” Matt shook his head. “How would I know? President Leek declared them approved for transport.”

  Gary’s eyes narrowed to mere slits. “They don’t need to be here,” he snarled.

  “Hey, Gary,” Matt blurted, somewhat taken aback at the vitriol in the voice of the man he had known for more than twenty years. “Take it up with them if you have a problem. Leave me out of it.”

  “Pigmy,” Gary snarled as he turned away. He muttered curses all the way to the door and then he looked back. “I’ll do something about it and I’ll remember you’re an alien lover.”

  Chapter 31 – Contested Embassy Decision

  “Are you hungry?” Nanda asked when the three women were all back in the pilentum.

  “Yes,” Rhona answered. Breakfast was four hours behind them and she consumed a huge number of calories every day to fuel the changes occurring in her body.

  “Me too,” Judith added.

  Nanda issued an instruction to the pilentum before turning to look at Rhona. “Hurit says we ought to get soup and a sandwich at the Odd Fellow’s Bakery. They make all of their own bread and soup.”

  “Sounds great. Is it far?”

  “Right here in Salmon.”

  Judith looked around when they exited the parking lot and turned north. She then focused on Nanda. “Did you see the improvement you expected in those people?”

  “Physically, yes.”

  Rhona noticed the nuance of Nanda’s expression and asked, “What does that mean?”

  “I’ve done a huge number of simulations on the physical response to this treatment. Everything I saw looks as I expected, although I would like to take a couple of them to our infirmary for more complete checks. It’s much harder to predict the recovery rate for memories. Other people are the experts there, not me.”

  “Michelle said her mother was recovering her memories.”

  “That’s right,” Nanda agreed with a polite nod. “The medicine seemed even more effective with memory recovery than I expected. However, I don’t really know how the mind stores memories.”

  “Interesting,” Rhona mused. “Do any of your scientists know how memory storage and recall works?”

  “A few people claimed to be making progress, but they had to focus on evacuation activities. I lost touch with them because they went to another starship.”

  The conversation lagged for a few moments and then Rhona had to smile at Judith’s next question. “Nanda, have you forgotten a lot?”

  The ancient Abantu harrumphed. “Unfortunately, yes. Oh, we have very good memories, compared to humans, but we do forget things with the passage of time. We have compact storage devices that can record conversations, personal information, still pictures, and video for a lifetime. I spend half an hour reviewing it every day to refresh my old memories.”

  “Is that a common practice?” Judith asked.

  “Recording is a common practice. The amount of review time varies greatly by individual.”

  “We’re there,” Judith said when the pilentum pulled off the street and parked in front of a two-story tan brick building. A dark red awning with the number 510 written in white hung over the door. A thin plume of smoke drifted from a tall chimney.

  They all stopped beside the small reader board sign sitting on the sidewalk beside the front door. Rhona pointed to one of the items. “I’ll have the cream of mushroom soup with a side salad and sourdough bread.”

  There were two customers in the small store when they went inside. Rhona glanced at them before watching a young man slide two loaves of bread into the open front of a wood-fired oven. Coals glowed yellow and red in the deep recesses of the oven.

  Judith gestured at a rack holding half a dozen different kinds of bread. “They do good work. None of the bread has a burnt crust.”

  “Sure smells good,” Nanda agreed.

  They wer
e sitting at a table enjoying soup and bread when a wall-mounted TV switched from an entertainment show to a breaking news story. The news anchor seemed excited as he began speaking. “Earlier this morning, the Supreme Court ruled on the case brought by the State of Kansas seeking to overturn the establishment of an Abantu Embassy in Kansas.”

  Rhona tapped her mother on the shoulder. “Brian hasn’t been willing to second-guess this decision. He and Laura made me produce two press releases. One for each possible decision.”

  “Neither has Dulcis,” Nanda added. “Apparently the judges wrote out their decisions using pen and paper, rather than word processors.”

  The diners waited for two long minutes while the anchor rehashed the issues and lines of argument. Finally, he sighed. “In one of their worst rulings since the Dred Scott decision of 1857, the judges, in a 5-4 split decision, rejected the arguments of the State of Kansas. They affirmed that the president has the authority to establish the embassy. The only point the state won was that the federal government must pay the state fair market value for public buildings, land, and roads inside the embassy.”

  “That’s good news,” Rhona said and then went quiet when her own face appeared on the newscast. The twenty-second video clip conveyed her pleasure on behalf of the Abantu that the court had ruled in favor of the president.

  The teenage waitress had ignored them since serving their food and setting out drinks. She perched on a padded stool behind the counter and looked out the window rather than watching TV. She glanced at the screen when Rhona began talking and her eyes grew wide. She swung around to look at the three diners so quickly she fell off the stool. She stood, turned her back on them, and pulled out her smartphone. Moments later, she started tapping out a message.

  Judith gestured at the TV screen. “I wonder what Senator Rucker will do next.”

  Rhona slapped her hand over her mouth and then lowered it. “I didn’t tell you, but Keene called and said the senator put up half of the money to start the new group called PURE. We’ll discuss it more in tomorrow morning’s security briefing because General Breneman is also involved.”

  “Okay.” Judith nodded. Either she or Charles attended the briefing every day. She pointed at a display case. “I still have room for a blackberry scone.”

  “Me too,” Nanda added.

  “I’ll get them,” Rhona said and bounded to her feet. The waitress had finished sending her text message and she quickly served up three scones.

  Rhona was heading back to the table carrying two of the scones when the throaty rumble of a big diesel engine caught her attention. A heavy haul truck carrying an immense caterpillar with the numbers D10T pained on the cab moved slowly along the street. She could just see the tail of the trailer when it turned the corner from Main Street onto North Center Street.

  The waitress reached the table a couple of steps behind Rhona. The waitress set down the plate of scones, looked at Rhona, and gestured at the TV. “Was that you on the news?”

  Rhona smiled. “Yes, that was me.”

  “Then, then… You must be…” The waitress seemed at a loss for words as she waved her hand back and forth.

  “Yes, miss,” Nanda said, after picking up a scone and taking a bite. “I’m Abantu. By the way, please tell the cook these are excellent scones.”

  “Uh, s-s-sure,” the waitress stammered. “Can I take your picture?”

  “Go ahead,” Nanda said. She took another bite of scone as the waitress scurried back to the counter to retrieve her phone.

  The photo op was just finished when Rhona’s phone vibrated with Keene’s special sequence. She tapped her earpiece and spoke. “Go ahead, Keene.”

  “The driver of the truck is unloading the cat on the street just around the corner. The truck is registered to the biggest contributor to PURE.”

  Rhona paused and cocked her head. She could hear the rumble of a second large diesel engine. The sound moved from an idle to a full roar as she listened. She slapped her hand on the table. “Let’s move!”

  They rushed outside and moved towards the pilentum. Rhona spun and looked up the street when an immense caterpillar moved around the corner and turned towards them. The blade was taller than she was and at least twelve feet wide. The tracks made a clanking roar on the pavement. Behind her, she could hear Nanda and Judith ordering the pilentum to open the doors.

  Rhona grabbed Nanda by the arm and pushed her towards the passenger door. “I’m driving!” she shouted as she dived through the open driver’s door.

  Commands spilled from Rhona’s lips almost faster than she could think. The inertial dampers were already active and she ordered maximum strength on the protective force field. Wilda had told David Beganovic a 20 mm cannon couldn’t breach the body but she didn’t know what would happen if a 65-ton caterpillar ran over them.

  The pilentum had just started to move when the blade of the cat came down across the top of the cab. Lights on the dash flared red, but the roof didn’t flex. The cat engine roared and the front of the tracks rose in the air as the operator tried to cut the pilentum in two with the blade.

  Anger kept Rhona focused and she ignored the squeals from Nanda and the shrieks from her mother. She ordered the pilentum to move towards the caterpillar. For a moment, nothing happened, and then the pilentum began pushing the cat sideways.

  The 670 hp diesel belched smoke while the cat operator tried to regain control, but it was badly outclassed. The cat treads dug deep gouges in the pavement as the pilentum pushed it back. One set of treads caught on the edge of the concrete sidewalk and chunks of concrete flew in all directions.

  The cat slowly tilted up on edge as Rhona continued her advance. Moments later, the cat slammed down on one side, unable to move.

  Rhona backed the pilentum away and turned down the street. She glanced back and saw the waitress standing in the store doorway. Her mouth was hanging open and her eyes were so wide the white dwarfed the rest of her face. However, she was holding her phone up to her face, apparently taking a video of the action.

  Judith peered out the back window while they accelerated down the street. Her voice was shrill. “How did you do that?”

  The adrenaline high was already starting to fade and Rhona felt her hands shake. “Abantu engineering and a lot of luck,” she muttered.

  Nanda didn’t say anything. Rhona glanced over her shoulder and saw Nanda leaning back in the corner of the rear seat with her arm over her face. Rhona reached over and tapped her mother on the shoulder. “Mom! Please check on Nanda.”

  Rhona heard her mother take a quick breath. The AI was doing the driving, so Rhona turned around completely while Judith reached for Nanda. “Nanda, are you okay?” Judith asked.

  The limp Abantu didn’t respond. Rhona half dived over the seat and reached for Nanda’s arm. To her relief, she found a slow steady pulse. She let out a long sigh. “I think she just fainted.”

  “Why?” Judith asked with a snort. “I’m mad. I wouldn’t think of fainting.”

  “Some humans faint under duress,” Rhona replied. “Instead, you and I turn into banshees.” They were already halfway to the airport and talking calmed her nerves.

  “People usually faint for just a couple of minutes,” Judith shot back.

  “It’s only been a couple of minutes,” Rhona replied when they neared the airport entrance traveling nearly four times the posted speed limit. The pilentum slowed once they were inside the airport fence.

  Judith pointed forwards as Rhona looked back to check on Nanda again. The Abantu hadn’t moved.

  “What’s that?” Judith asked.

  Rhona squinted and then the scene came into focus. Two men and a bobcat were next to the hatch on the cargo shuttle. The men were trying to use the concrete punch on the bobcat to break in.

  Unsure what to do, Rhona dialed Keene. “Are you watching?” she demanded.
>
  “We are,” he replied. “You’re doing well and we already have the police coming to both places.”

  “How do I keep these yahoos from scratching the paint on the shuttle?”

  “Just a moment,” he replied. Seconds later, he continued. “Sam just killed the engine on the bobcat.”

  Irritation loosened Rhona’s control over her tongue. She knew she talked more–babbled, really–when things got tough. “Couldn’t you have killed the cat engine?”

  His voice came back in an even tone. “They caught us flatfooted. We were ready for military equipment, even a main battle tank. We weren’t ready for ordinary construction equipment. We figured out how to shut it down just about the time you tipped it over. Good thinking.”

  “What do I do here?”

  The men with the bobcat looked at the suddenly quiet equipment and then at the approaching vehicle. They both took off at a run.

  “Push the bobcat aside with the pilentum.”

  “I can do that, but I can’t fly the shuttle. Nanda fainted.”

  “Laura already checked the medical sensors. She says Nanda will come around.”

  “When?”

  Laura responded this time. “It takes time. A half hour, maybe an hour.”

  Rhona nosed the pilentum against the bobcat and gave a slow, irresistible, push. “What do I do until then? Sit here and twiddle my thumbs?”

  “No. We’ll open the shuttle hatch remotely. Park the pilentum and then fly the shuttle back here. Dulcis says you’re ready to fly solo.”

  Chapter 32 – Military Problems

  Rhona and her mother left Nanda slumped in the rear seat of the pilentum and headed to the shuttle’s small control room. A police car with flashing lights turned in the airport gate just as Laura informed the AI Rhona was an authorized pilot.

  “I’m in no mood to talk to the police,” Judith said as she pointed at the display showing the exterior scene. “What good is diplomatic immunity if you don’t use it now and then?”