by Rae Knightly
He had almost reached her when the office door swung open and Connelly stepped out.
Both men stiffened at the same time.
Connelly closed the door slowly, never taking his eyes off of Hao, then took a few steps in his direction. He pointed at the crutches. “Not planning on using those on me, are you?” he smirked.
Showtime! Hao told himself, but he merely shook his head.
Connelly glared at him for a bit, then said, “You’re late. The meeting was moved to 8:00 am. Didn’t you get the memo?”
How could I, if no-one sent it to me? Hao fought to keep his inner fire contained. He’s deliberately keeping me out of the loop, Hao realized. As normal as possible, he answered, “Nope. Must’ve missed it.”
Connelly nodded without smiling. “Well, seeing as you are currently…” he pointed at Hao’s broken leg, “…indisposed, High Inspector Tremblay has made it official that I take over the case. I will be answering to him, now.”
There you have it! Hao pressed his lips into a fine line. “I see,” he said.
The bald man studied him for a bit longer, then passed him by without another word.
“Hey, Theodore!” Hao called after him.
Connelly stopped and turned around.
Hao braced himself, fully expecting to receive a punch in the face. But there was no reaction, so Hao said, “Look, I owe you an apology, you know, for the way I acted the other day in the infirmary. I don’t know what got into me.” He shuffled on his crutches. “I gotta tell you, I thought I was living my final hours under that avalanche. I even hallucinated. I…I guess fear got the better of me and I took it out on you. It was very unprofessional on my part, and I apologize.”
Connelly nodded without a hint of emotion.
Hao wanted to break his nose. “So,” he continued instead. “Well done on your raise.” He lifted one of the crutches off the ground. “And you’re right, of course, it’s not like I can do much right now.”
Connelly offered him the tiniest of smiles, making Hao’s insides twist. Was it a smile of acceptance? A smile of glee? A smile of victory? Hao had no clue.
Both men turned their backs on each other after a minimal salute, but then Hao stopped and called after him once more, “Oh, and one last thing.”
Connelly cast him a furious look, which Hao thoroughly enjoyed.
“What now?” the bald man snapped.
“Give my best wishes to Kyle.”
“To who…What?”
Hao frowned, “Today is April second, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So,” Hao continued. “It’s your son’s birthday today, isn’t it?”
Connelly’s eyes narrowed, but only for a fraction of a second.
Jeez’, he’s good, Hao thought in wonder.
“Right,” Connelly said without intonation.
“Sooo,” Hao repeated. “Wish him a happy birthday for me when you call him.”
Connelly’s mouth shut tight, his fingers twitching at his side. He nodded, then spun around and distanced himself from Hao with large strides.
Hao, his brow knitted, bounced unsteadily on his good leg until he had turned a corner. He sagged against the wall and let out a shaky breath. For goodness sake, the guy doesn’t even know his own son’s birthday! Tamara had told him that Kyle’s birthday was on April third. Today was April second. And Connelly hadn’t known the difference.
Then there was the Theodore issue. Connelly hadn’t flinched at hearing the name. Whatever was happening, the Connelly he had just spoken to did not match his wife’s description of a loving husband and father.
Hao should have felt elated at having caught his partner in a trap, but he didn’t. Something was fundamentally wrong, but what was it, exactly?
He only knew one thing for sure–a thing confirmed by the internal alarms that were screaming at him from his entire body. There’s a traitor at the heart of the CSIS.
***
Ben stepped off the bus and waited patiently for the pedestrian light to turn green. As he crossed the street, he was reminded once more that it was the first time he had returned to school without Tike. His heart weighed so heavily he wondered if he was going to be able to carry it.
He pulled open the door to Uncle Bob’s bar. It was early afternoon, and the place was empty, except for a person vacuuming at the back. The atmosphere was dim and minimalistic, a bit like Uncle Bob’s apartment.
“Hi, Ben!” A cheerful voice greeted him. Pearl appeared from under the counter, her hands full of wet glasses. She placed them on the long counter and headed over to him. “Oh my! Look at you!” she exclaimed, holding him at arm’s length to admire him better. “Is that a uniform you’re wearing?”
Ben blushed crimson and nodded.
Not long ago, the prospect of wearing a uniform to school would have unchained a monumental confrontation with his mother. But that was the other Ben, the Ben from before The Cosmic Fall. This new Ben hadn’t given the grey trousers, white shirt and red tie more than a passing thought. His mind was on other things. His mind was on Tike who had died, on Mesmo who was on the point of leaving forever, on Beetrix whose species was in danger of dying out… This new Ben was far removed from the trivialities of what clothes he was wearing. That was, unless Pearl mentioned them.
“I’m so glad you’re attending school in the neighbourhood and that your mom’s decided to help us,” Pearl gushed, squeezing his hand, then returning to her position at the counter, where she began to dry a glass with a kitchen towel. “Bobby says you might even settle down in the area.”
He thought he glimpsed a tightening under her eyes, but she smiled cheerfully. “We’d love for you to stick around.”
Ben nodded again, the theme of where they were going to live a murky question in his mind, then realized he should probably say something. “Thanks. Hum, is my mom here?”
“Yes, just head up the stairs to your right. That’s the office. Oh, and Ben…” She reached out behind the counter and reemerged with a pile of mail in her hand. “Take these with you, would you? She’ll be opening the business mail from now on.”
Ben took the envelopes from her.
“And come down when you’re done,” she added. “I’ll teach you to make a mint-orange juice cocktail. You’ll see, it’s the best in town.”
“Ok,” Ben said, grinning, then sprinted up the stairs so he could regain control of his burning cheeks. He shoved open the office door, his backpack slipping to his elbow in the process.
He found his mother at a desk with a pile of documents around her.
She placed a pen behind her ear and glued a phone to the other one. She waved at him and signalled for him to wait until she was done. Placing her hand over the speaker, she mouthed, “How was your day?”
Ben gave her a vague thumbs-up. It wasn’t as if there was much to say: new buildings, new faces, new teachers. He had been left alone most of the time, which suited him fine. He was far from ready to start making new friends. He had waited all day just to be able to join his mother so they could visit Mesmo. Ben’s biggest fear was the alien would take off without saying goodbye.
He dropped his backpack on the floor and rearranged the stack of envelopes from big to small while he waited for Laura to finish her call. Then, he frowned.
Why is the wrong name on the envelopes?
The name printed on them was: ROBERT MANFIELD.
Laura hung up, and he reached out to give her the mail. “That’s weird. Why is Dad’s name on all the enve…” he started, before breaking off. His frown deepened, and he pulled back the mail before she could take it.
“Mom? Why is Dad’s name on the envelopes?”
Something clicked in the back of his mind, something he should have noticed ages ago, but had been too busy to notice.
“Wait a minute! Robert…” he said with difficulty. “…and Bob. Aren’t those names one and the same?” His mouth went dry all of a sudden because he already knew the answe
r.
He watched his mother’s face turn ashen.
“Mom?” he croaked, engulfed in fear. “Is Bob short for Robert?” The envelopes slid from his hands. His voice shook, and he could not believe the words that came out of his own mouth. “Is Bob my dad?”
Laura got up from her chair as if a huge weight crushed her back, and she had to hang on the edge of the desk for support. “I need you to listen to me, Ben,” she said slowly.
Ben’s eyes bulged.
Why isn’t she answering?
“Mom?” he yelled. “Is Bob my dad?”
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Ben didn’t want to hear the answer. He didn’t want to listen to her confirm her lies.
“Yes,” she said.
Ben’s hand flew to his face as if she had hit him with a bat.
“There’s something you need to understand…” she began, reaching out to him.
Ben recoiled.
There’s nothing to understand!
“You lied to me?” His voice rose a pitch.
“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, breaking apart before his eyes.
“My dad’s alive, and you lied to me all this time?” he shouted, unable to help himself, knowing that every word cut her deeply.
Memories flashed before his eyes–things that hadn’t made sense before, but did now; moments that he should have spent with his dad, but hadn’t. Years of lies. He backed into the door.
“No, wait, Ben,” Laura begged. “Don’t turn away from me.”
He whirled, pulled at the door and bolted down the stairs, ignoring his mother’s calls.
“Hey, Ben, are you ready for that orange ju…” Pearl’s voice came from behind the counter, but he was already through the door of the pub and out into the bustling street.
He ignored shouts of anger as he bumped into pedestrians. He dashed down the street, zigzagging among afternoon shoppers and office people, putting as much distance as he could between himself and his mother, his heart thudding with each step.
The one person I trusted with my life…
His feet took him to the park, and he kept running even though a stitch nagged at his side. He welcomed the pain. Maybe it would drown his grief. He dropped to the ground at the edge of the lake, sobbing.
Tike! I need you!
He wrapped his arms around his legs and bit into his knee. He shut his eyes tight and screamed into his trouser leg.
Ben rocked back-and-forth, sobbing his heart out, releasing the pain of Tike’s death, trying to make sense of his mother’s lie, wondering if he could ever face her or Bob again.
The sun reflected a soft orange on the city buildings, which reached for the sky from behind the trees. The lake was a calm greyish-blue, and a couple of ducks swam by.
A hand touched him on the back. He jumped and laid eyes on Mesmo with relief. The alien sat beside him, and Ben sank his head against his shoulder.
“What happened?” Mesmo asked.
Ben told him.
Mesmo remained silent for a long moment.
When Ben calmed down somewhat, the alien said, “Has your mother told you her reasons? I’m sure there must be an explanation as to why she hid your father from you.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want to hear it.”
Mesmo paused, then said, “I’ve noticed that people sometimes lie to protect their loved ones from painful truths. There is usually a reason behind it. I think you should give her a chance to explain herself.”
Ben watched a passing motorboat make ripples on the surface of the lake that slowly trickled to shore, thinking about Mesmo’s words. But he felt mentally exhausted and couldn’t come up with any reason to go and listen to his mother. “I want to go with you,” he said numbly. “There’s nothing left for me here. Grampa, Tike, Kimi, I’ll never see any of them again. And now you’re going to leave, too.” His eyes filled with tears again. “You’re the only one left that I can trust.”
Mesmo wrung his hands together. “I think you’re overreacting right now.”
“No, I’m not. I could be your co-pilot. I could learn, you know?” He glanced hopefully at the alien.
Mesmo wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders and squeezed them without responding. He didn’t need to.
Ben’s shoulders sagged. “What should I do, then?” he asked, kicking with his heel at the sand.
“Make peace with your mother and father,” Mesmo replied. “Bob has offered to help you settle here. You’d be safe here, and you could live close to both your parents. Does that sound so terrible?”
Ben considered it. He had never dared dream of such a thing: to have both a mother and a father in his life. And now it was suddenly a real possibility. But it would be a life without Mesmo. “You stay, then,” he riposted. “Teach me how to use the skill! Help me protect the animals! And–by the way–you love my mom. I saw you kiss her. So you can’t go!”
I sound like a little kid.
“Ben, I…”
“Yes, I know!” Ben interrupted. “The Toreq won’t allow you to marry twice or something stupid like that. But you’re not on your planet. You’re on Earth.” He glanced pleadingly at the alien, knowing his reasoning was futile. “What? Does that sound so terrible?” he pressed on anyway.
His words made Mesmo grin. “You are quite a special human being, Benjamin Archer,” he said. “And I’m not saying that because of the skill.” He fell silent and stared at the lake. When he glanced at Ben again, his smile had faded. “But no, I can’t stay.”
Ben’s head drooped.
“Come,” the alien said gently. “I will take you home, to your father. And then I must leave.”
They walked side by side through the park, Ben with his hands in his pockets, the red tie of his uniform loose around his neck.
“You know,” Mesmo said, “I like it better when you cry from happiness.”
Ben smiled sadly and put an arm around the man’s waist. “I’m going to miss you,” he said.
Mesmo placed his own arm around Ben’s shoulders. “I’m going to miss you too, Benjamin Archer.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Treason
The elevator to Bob’s apartment pinged, and the doors slid open. Ben found his dad pacing along the kitchen counter with a plastic water bottle in his hand.
“Ben!” he said with some surprise as if he hadn’t been expecting him. He stepped forward, but his face fell as soon as Mesmo exited the elevator. Bob licked his lips and drew back.
Ben decided to ignore his father’s unwelcome reaction to the alien but felt reluctant to enter the apartment further. His parents’ lie loomed like an insurmountable wall before him. “I need to talk to you,” he said in a dull voice.
Bob placed the bottle on the counter, then pulled at his collar. “Yes, I need to talk to you, too.” His eyes were fixed on Mesmo while avoiding Bens’.
“There’s no need. I already know the truth,” Ben said glumly. “You’re my dad. Mom told me.” The words sounded foreign to his ears.
Bob cleared his throat. “I know, she called and told me what happened. She’s looking all over for you.” He rubbed at the middle of his forehead with his eyes closed. “Look, she made me promise not to say anything. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. We were going to go out, the three of us, have a nice dinner, then talk about it–together. But then, this happened.” He made a gesture that seemed aimed at Mesmo.
Frustration surged within Ben.
Why’s he on Mesmo’s back?
Bob’s eyes darted across the apartment. He waved the boy over. “Can you come on over here?” he said.
Ben and Mesmo took a step forward.
“Not you,” Bob snapped at Mesmo.
Heat flushed through Ben’s body. “Will you stop that? Mesmo’s my friend. He came to help.”
“Just, come on over here, squirt!” Bob demanded irritably, his voice calling for obedience.
Ben approached him, a little
apprehensive. He noticed small pearls of sweat on Bob’s forehead.
What’s up with him?
A reflection on the kitchen fridge moved, making him spin towards the living room. But too late.
From behind a wall, Connelly stepped out with a gun in his hand.
Ben yelped, shrinking into Bob in fright.
“Sh! It’s ok! This is a police officer,” Bob said, wrapping his arm around the boy’s chest.
“No, wait!” Ben shouted, struggling to free himself from Bob’s restraining grip.
“Calm down!” Bob urged. “He’s here to protect us.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Listen to me!” Bob insisted as Ben squirmed. “This Mesmo is a dangerous felon. The police have been chasing him all across the country.”
“So you went and called them?” Ben shouted in disbelief, lunging from Bob’s grasp and whirling to face him.
“Relax, will you? I recognized this criminal the minute I laid eyes on him in the park. You can’t hang out with people like that! Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. They’re dangerous!”
Ben was on the verge of a breakdown. “You have no idea what you did!” His skin crawled at the shapeshifter’s proximity. “He’s going to kill us!”
“Don’t be stupid. Let the man do his jo…”
Connelly bellowed, “That’s enough!”
Ben whimpered.
The shapeshifter hadn’t taken his eyes off of Mesmo for a second. His enemy stood poised like a prey backed into a corner, near the elevator.
“This show has gone on long enough,” Connelly growled. “Time to wrap up.”
To Ben’s horror, the bald man aimed the gun at him without taking his eyes off of Mesmo. “Let’s go,” he said, talking to the boy.
“Wait a minute,” Bob protested. “Ben’s not going with you. And point that thing elsewhere. Somebody could get hurt.”
The bald man turned his head and followed the direction of the gun. Even from where he stood, Ben could see his eyes switching from green to honey-brown. “I won’t say it again,” he hissed.
