by Rae Knightly
He turned slowly to face Mesmo, who stared at him with intense eyes. The alien’s subdued voice sounded far away. “I didn’t know you were on the vessel, Benjamin. If I had known…”
Ben closed his eyes as dizziness grasped him. He opened them again and knew instantly that he and Mesmo were sharing the same, overwhelming thought.
One of us is never going home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Return
The doorbell chimed through the dark house. Laura, who lay fully clothed on the sofa where her father had placed an unconscious Mesmo so many months back, pulled herself upright with difficulty. Her hair was in a mess, and dark pockets cradled her green eyes.
She forced herself to the door, pulled the knob and squinted at the sunlight. She hadn’t opened the curtains in three weeks.
Inspector Hao stood before her, his car parked in the driveway of her father’s house. A black-and-white English Shepherd tugged at its leash, its tongue lolling in excitement. “Sit still, Buddy,” Hao said.
The dog sat obediently, grinning at his master.
Hao’s eyebrows knitted together as he glanced at Laura.
“Any news?” she blurted, unable to contain herself.
Hao shook his head.
Even though the sun was shining, she pulled her cardigan closer about her and sunk her chin into it so he wouldn’t see it quiver. She sniffed and moved aside. “Come on in.” Her voice sounded tired.
Hao cleared his throat. “Actually, do you mind joining me outside? Buddy has been cooped up in the car far too long. I think he’d like to go for a run.”
Laura nodded and stepped outside reluctantly, closing the door behind her.
They walked side-by-side–Hao limping somewhat–until they reached the fields where young corn crops reached shoulder length. The late morning was crisp and clean, and Laura could see across the valley to the mountains on the other side. She swallowed a lump in her throat and almost headed back inside, but Buddy sprang before her, barking excitedly and asking to be patted. Laura obliged. Then, the English Shepherd took off down the fields happily.
“I was at a funeral in Chilliwack this morning,” Hao spoke gently. “We combed the Dugout from top to bottom. And we found something…or more accurately…someone,” he explained.
Her eyes widened.
Hao sighed. “We found the remains of Agent Theodore Edmond Connelly. The real Connelly. We think Bordock must have kept him in the spaceship all along, then dumped him in the Dugout in the end.”
Buddy came back for a pat, then broke away again.
“He was laid to rest this morning with great honours. His wife, Tamara Connelly, will receive government compensation. Hopefully, she will find some peace knowing her husband didn’t abandon her but died a hero.”
Laura continued to cover her mouth with her cardigan. She knew he was watching her.
“I’m sorry,” he continued. “I wish you could have that kind of closure.”
She nodded in thanks, unable to speak, but now tears popped into her eyes.
They watched Buddy for some time, then Hao said, “I have been named Head of the National Aerial Division of the CSIS.”
“I heard,” Laura managed, sniffing. “They said on the news that the former High Inspector was arrested on money laundering charges. Something to do with Victor Hayward.”
Hao nodded.
“Congratulations,” Laura said, trying to sound sincere, but her voice sounded hollow instead.
“Thank you. The point is, I came to tell you that my colleagues are convinced only one alien survived The Cosmic Fall, and that he took his deceased companions and escaped Earth in the remaining spacecraft. They don’t know about Connelly, or what happened to him. They have no clue there was an alien shapeshifter involved.”
He paused. “All this to say that I cleared you and your son’s name. You won’t be bothered by anyone, Laura. Any contact with the CSIS in the future must pass through me.”
He glanced at her meaningfully. “There is much to do if we are to prepare for the return of the Toreq. Convincing governments to prepare for a possible alien strike in a distant future is going to be an impossible undertaking–what with governments squabbling and so few people knowing the truth. But I have to try, and I may need your help when you feel up to it.”
Laura glanced at the ground.
I don’t feel up to it.
“Take your time,” Hao said gently. “It’s just something for you to consider.”
She nodded.
“I…um…,” Hao continued. “I also have another request.”
Laura glanced at him questioningly.
He gestured toward the dog. “This new position is going to keep me busy. I’ll be travelling a lot. I won’t really have time to take care of Buddy. So I was wondering…you know…would you be willing…?”
The English Shepherd sat beside Laura, gazing up at her lovingly.
She forced a sad smile. “Yes, Inspector, of course. I’ll take care of Buddy.”
Hao’s stance relaxed as if a weight had been removed from his shoulders. “Thank you,” he said. “And it’s James. None of that Inspector business between us, after what we’ve been through.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I wanted to apologize, for your son’s dog. I would have liked to tell Ben myself, but…”
Laura looked at him in surprise, then said, “It’s ok, James. You don’t have to apologize. It was Bordock’s doing. You were just trying to protect yourself.”
Hao nodded grimly. “I’d better get going, then,” he said. “I fly back to Toronto tonight.” He glanced at her. “Will you be all right?”
No, I won’t.
She nodded silently.
They headed back to Hao’s car and said their goodbyes.
***
Hao glanced in his rearview mirror as he sped off, Laura becoming smaller and smaller. He set his jaw.
How does one get over the loss of a son? he thought sadly.
He didn’t think anyone ever could. And he didn’t think Laura could, either.
Before driving to Ryan Archer’s house, he had checked in with NASA for the hundredth time. He had asked the US space program to point their satellites at Saturn, but the search hadn’t turned up anything unusual. A search of the Solar System hadn’t revealed any sign of alien life.
He feared the worst for the boy, who, he realized, had become victim to a war no-one knew anything about.
Reaching a curb, he slowed down to read a sign that said FOR SALE. The house depicted on the sign was Victor Hayward’s. The bankruptcy of the billionaire’s Airliner was forcing him to sell all his properties.
Hao pressed on the gas pedal, but his motor sputtered. He pushed it again, and the car lurched a few feet, before dying. Turning the key in the ignition several times only strained the motor.
Drat!
Hao hit the wheel in exasperation. Shielding his eyes from the bright sun, he skimmed the area, hoping to find someone who could help, but the hillside was empty of life.
He stepped out of the car, lifted the hood, and checked the motor. At first glance, there was nothing wrong with it. Squinting back the way he had come, he wondered how long it would take him to walk back to the Archer house.
Hao sighed and returned to the driver’s seat, then grabbed his mobile phone. The line was dead.
What the heck? he thought as he tugged angrily at his sweaty collar, the sun illuminating his dashboard brightly.
He froze. Wait a minute, that’s not the sun!
He tensed in his seat, then leaned forward to squint through the front windshield. The fake sun dropped from the sky and glided smoothly towards him in a dazzling light.
His jaw dropped as the radiant object dimmed and turned into a black craft that floated soundlessly over his car.
***
Laura sat on the steps leading to the kitchen. She watched Buddy sniffing at the ground in the back yard, then uprooting some yellow dandelion
s with his paws.
The dog straightened suddenly, his dirty snout sniffing the air, and remained poised like a statue with one paw lifted.
“What is it, Buddy? Did you smell a rabbit?” Laura said, twirling a dandelion between her fingers without much interest.
She heard the dog bark once from far away.
Laura blinked and stood slowly. “Buddy?” she called, suddenly realizing he had dashed off without her noticing.
There was no sign of him.
She left the stairs and glanced at the driveway to check if James had come back, but it was empty of cars.
“Buddy!” she shouted at the fields, stretching her neck.
The dog appeared at the end of the path that cut through the cornfields, running wildly towards her. She cocked her head and then shook it, wondering whether she had made a mistake in accepting a dog that she would have to chase all day.
She was about to turn back when a form appeared behind the dog. The person was walking up toward the house, and it was a boy.
Laura clutched her stomach.
It can’t be…
She watched, expecting the illusion to disappear in the time of a blink.
But the boy continued to walk down the path. He saw her and waved. “Mom!” he shouted.
Laura lifted her hand to her mouth, afraid to acknowledge the feeling of extreme happiness surging through her body. She took a step forward, then another, and before she knew it she had broken into a run, crying “Ben!”
They met in the middle of the path and landed in each other’s arms so hard that they fell over, laughing. They hugged tightly, giggling and crying at the same time. Buddy sprang around them, barking. Laura wiped a tear off of Ben’s cheek, leaving a trail of dust.
He grinned at her. “You’ll never guess where I was!”
A shadow fell over them and Laura raised her hand to shield her eyes. Mesmo glanced down at them in amusement.
She took Ben by the hand and pulled him to a standing position, then faced the alien. “You came back!” she said breathlessly.
Mesmo smiled. “I had to,” he said.
She tilted her head, not understanding.
“You see, you didn’t answer my question,” he continued.
“What question?”
He bit his inner lip, then said, “Now that you know the truth, knowing what you know, could you still love me, Laura Archer?”
Laura opened her mouth, her bulging heart making her giddy. “Yes,” she replied. “Yes, I can!”
They stared at each other, bewildered at seeing each other in flesh and blood again. Then they both grinned, and he pulled her into his arms tightly.
Before long, Ben latched on to them as well, and the three of them hung onto each other like a single pillar rooted to the earth.
***
The giant Maple tree spread its branches. Its leaves danced to an afternoon breeze, while the cornfields reflected a setting sun.
Mesmo crouched by his daughter’s grave and made delicate flowers of ice flow out of a clay jug. When he was done, he sat on a thick, protruding root, leant his elbows on his knees and placed his head in his hands.
Ben and Laura bowed their head in silent respect.
Crickets chirped and the first star appeared.
Laura placed her arm around Ben’s shoulders, and he intertwined his fingers with hers.
“Mesmo sent Bordock’s body, as well as that of his companions through the wormhole,” Ben whispered. “But he wanted Kaia to return to Earth with him.”
Laura remained silent beside him, then said, “He can never go back, can he?”
Ben shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he whispered. “It was him or me.” He bit his lip. “He chose me.”
Laura shut her eyes as she squeezed his shoulders.
They stood together for a long moment, until Laura tugged at his arm, indicating they should head home.
Ben knew she wanted to give Mesmo some space, but he wasn’t quite ready to go. “I’ll come in a minute,” he whispered.
She nodded in understanding and headed back to the house with Buddy in the lead.
Ben stared at Kaia’s grave for several minutes, thinking about the past events and about the girl he would have liked to know better. How much could she have taught him about the skill? Now that knowledge was lost.
His hands glowed, and Beetrix landed in his palm. She fluttered her wings.
I will begin a new hive here. It is a good place. You can count on me for help, Benjamin Archer. You will need it.
She buzzed off and disappeared into the branches of the tree.
Ben sighed and went to sit beside Mesmo without saying a word.
The alien lifted his head from his hands.
“Thank you for bringing me home,” Ben said softly, struggling under the weight of knowing what that meant for the alien.
Mesmo remained silent for a minute, then replied, “There is nothing left for me, back there. This is where I belong now.”
Ben pursed his lips. “But what did you tell the Toreq? What was on the seven keys?”
“More bad than good,” he said. “But I didn’t transfer the data contained in the keys. Without the data, the Toreq Arch Council couldn’t draw conclusions.” He clasped his hands together. “Thus making it impossible for them to decide whether or not to send their best military ships through the wormhole before it closed.”
Ben blew air out of his puffed cheeks.
“Plus, I told them something you told me,” Mesmo continued.
Ben tensed. “R-really?”
Mesmo nodded. “An Observer is not chosen at random. He or she is elected by the Arch Council after much debate and from a large pool of candidates. The one considered the most apt for the mission carries a lot of weight in the decision for or against the human race.”
He paused. “You said you forgave your father because at least he had tried to make things right, even if he made bad choices.”
Ben raised his eyebrow, trying to get his point.
“So I, as the appointed Observer, recommended to the Toreq that they should apply the same thought to humans. Humans make bad choices sometimes, but at least they’re trying.”
Ben stared at the ground.
“Not to mention,” Mesmo continued, “that you chose the life of a bee colony over your own…” he broke off, and his voice dropped. “That gives me hope.”
Ben blushed and smiled shyly, considering his words as he drew a shape in the dirt with his shoe. How could humans ever come to understand the minds of the Toreq? If ever the A’hmun and the Toreq had once been like brothers, that time had long evaporated from human memory, lost in a blurry prehistory that stated the human race originated on Earth.
“So, what’s going to happen now?”
“Well, I finished analyzing the data contained in the seven keys. I will seek advice from the Wise Ones–some are favourable to the survival of your species, even if their data isn’t. Then I will have to convince your leaders that they must act before it is too late. Humans will have to learn to change the way they live, to respect the land and other animal species and to create and nurture instead of take and destroy. Only then will the Toreq truly consider pardoning the descendants of the A’hmun.” He paused, then added, “It’s going to take many years of convincing and a lot of travelling. Two centuries is not as long as you might think.”
Ben bit his lower lip and stared at his feet. “That sounds like an awful lot of work,” he said.
“It is. But it can be done. I have to try.”
Ben pouted and studied a particularly interesting blade of grass.
Mesmo nudged him.
The boy lifted his head and found the alien smiling at him.
“Will you help me?” Mesmo asked.
Ben broke into a grin. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said.
EPILOGUE
Day turned into night. Shadows chased each other across the land. City lights came on, mirrorin
g the stars. Coyotes scavenged for prey, hawks settled into their nests, and whales sank deep into the ocean.
The Earth drifted in space, oblivious to the sounds of laughter, conversations and bustling cities that dwelled on it.
Its faithful companion, the Moon, spread its white blanket over the sleeping souls, while beyond, all was silent.
The planets of the Solar System danced around their radiant king, as they had done for billions of years, and all was well in the Universe.
Or was it?
A low humming reverberated in a corner of space. Upon closer inspection, one could pinpoint the origin of the sound to a ghostly moon that belonged to the ringed planet, Saturn. Its unusual proximity to its massive ringed neighbour caused friction deep within its icy surface, resulting in giant geysers of water vapour that ejected into the vacuum of space, feeding Saturn’s rings with its material.
It was somewhere in between these two celestial companions, in a blind spot from prying human eyes, that the friction was at its strongest, and water vapour from Enceladus swirled into a pinpoint of nothingness.
This hole, the size of a needle in terms of space measurements, collapsed in on itself, yet not before spewing out five dark spacecraft at the last unit.
The impressive ships came to a complete standstill, only visible because their shapes hid the stars behind them.
Crackling sounds like static bounced between them, while sophisticated equipment would have caught the sound of low, metallic voices.
Within the largest spaceship, a tall man with white hair combed to the back and attached in a thin, waist-length braid surveyed the progress of the fleet. His small, honey-coloured eyes were hard and his cheekbones, pronounced.
Word spread that the suicidal wormhole crossing had been successfully completed in the nick of time.
But all in all, this minuscule event represented a mere ripple in the fabric of the cosmos.
