Essentially Human Page 7

  “Our sensors registered you were disturbed, but then you settled down.” T’talin stated. “Would you like to see Milaar?”

  “No. I’m fine now. It’s gone. I am hungry and would like to go eat.” She took a deep breath. “Thank you, Sam. I hope I didn’t interrupt your sleep too much.”

  “We need to talk, Ria.” His voice held a formal tone to it.

  “Aren’t we talking now?” She began to braid her hair, then stopped. He’d asked her to keep it lose so her nudity wouldn’t distract him. A flush rose up her body as she realized she’d been tight against him while sleeping. He’d touched her. The idea caused a pleasant sensation. She knew about sex and remembered enjoying it. Biology held a drive she wasn’t immune to. At least she used to find sex attractive, now, she wasn’t certain. His next words snapped her back to the present.

  “I mean a real conversation.” He turned his gaze to the side of the bed. “What do you need, T’talin?”

  “I will be speaking to Hammer in less than an hour and seek your guidance in regards to strategy.”

  Sam slid free from the bed and pulled a new pair of loose shorts up past his hips. She focused on them a moment, they were too big for him. Where did he get them?

  “She needs clothing and I’m also hungry. How long did I sleep?”

  He certainly took control of a room. Why did she need clothing?

  T’talin pointed to a length of fabric draped over her table. “One of the recyclers kept that, wanting to examine the color further. Ria, do you wish to be clothed?”

  She stood and walked to the garment. “I have no objections, T’talin and I understand Agent Montgomery’s concerns.” Her fingers slid along the lovely fabric. It might be silk, or some fabricated substitute. And she completely agreed with the technician who wanted to save the color. Her tongue suddenly recalled the taste of cream, real rich cream, like the sort they once filled donuts with. A hint of yellow, so faint that it barely existed at all. Not white, almost vanilla. She lifted the beautiful cloth and held it up. A slip, with narrow straps, a gently shaped bodice and quite a lot of fabric making up the skirt. No, not a slip, a negligee.

  She turned to show it to Sam. “Will this suffice?”

  He swallowed, then nodded to her.

  She slipped it over her head and smoothed it down over her body, pulling her hair free. “I can braid this as we go. Shall we?”

  Leading the way, she finger combed her hair and easily wove the strands together. Ever since she’d woken up, her hair grew to these thick, rich tresses. She recalled having long hair in high school, but never like this. The braid slid into place as if working on its own.

  Her brain kept busy, processing how it felt to wake up being held by another human being. It had been so long since that had happened. Her husband died seven years before she’d jumped from that ship.

  Ria took a deep breath. His death hadn’t been the reason she jumped. It certainly didn’t contribute to her mental stability, she supposed. She’d handled discovering he had a son from another woman. That situation had been sad. He’d spent one week with this woman and didn’t even know about the boy. She never told him. Only when his son fell ill, and his mother couldn’t afford the medical bills, did desperation see her reach out to the author she’d been reading for decades.

  A smart author who understood how scams worked. But the DNA test showed young Leonard came from Phillip. That didn’t really surprise Ria once she saw the photograph. He resembled his father so strongly. She’d already cut a check to help with the hospital bills before the DNA results. When they came through she set up a trust fund and turned control over to the mother.

  Phillip would have wanted that. She remembered the woman’s words. “He swore he’d never touched another woman and made sure I understood he loved his wife. I didn’t know you were his wife. I’m sorry to….”

  Ria hadn’t let her finish. “It doesn’t matter. Take care of your son.”

  “Ms. Aster, please. Did you stop writing because….”

  “I didn’t have anything else to write about.” She’d patted the outstretched hand and walked away.

  And it was true. She had no more stories to tell. She’d felt dry, without hope. No reason left to write about love or life. Her remaining energy went toward the fight to save the oceans. And that had been enough for a while.

  She finished her braid and dropped it to sweep behind her. How ironic that nearly three decades later, she found herself living beneath the water with the only beings who might actually be able to protect the seas, if only she could remember how to help them do so.

  Sam struggled to keep his attention on T’talin’s words. But the swaying body of Ria walking in front of him, in a silky nightgown proved hard to ignore. He shook his head and deliberately turned to keep his eyes on T’talin. He paused, starting back slight.

  In the brighter light of the hallway, he noticed something had changed. “What did you do to yourself?”

  “Hammer doesn’t know how far we can mimic human appearance. It isn’t something I’m ready to share.” The commander of the ship took a deep breath. “You may find the appearance of my staff startling. Ria has grown accustomed to them.”

  “I get it, hiding what you can do from him. I’ll be fine.” Sam swallowed, wondering how strange they might look. From what he could gather, Ria found them terrifying in the beginning. He sighed, eyes darted to Ria, then quickly away.

  He wouldn’t eat much in case the sight proved too disturbing.

  Once she sat across from him, the distraction faded. Feeling that nightgown sliding against him would have been difficult to ignore. Why did he think clothing would help?

  Milaar joined them with a bowl and offered suggestions. As they ate, T’talin’s appearance continued to change. His eyes expanded to take up more than half his face, his nose flattened to a bare protuberance. He’d never had hair, just a speckled scalp, the shape changed, as it narrowed, coming to a ridge traveling from the front to the back. Tentacles were sprouting from where his ears had been. Sam glanced at Ria. “Is this what you saw when you woke up?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  He found that reply less than satisfying and cocked his head.

  Milaar commented into the silence, “We attempted to look familiar, but I fear it only served to frighten her more. The only humans we’d seen had been immersed far too long to appear reassuring.”

  Ria shuddered. “Oh, yeah. They looked like melting zombies. I’d rather not recall, to be honest.”

  “You’d seen Hammer.”

  “Yes, but he did not inspire imitation.” Milaar grimaced.

  Sam thought it interesting that he could detect irony in the Aleena’s voice. They were learning fast. He’d been on board less than a week and he occasionally saw personal gestures in those around him.

  “T’talin is our most gifted mimic.” Milaar spread her hands, tentacles wide. “This is as far as I will attempt. I need immediate access to my tools and equipment.”

  “How far will you go?” Ria looked up the commander.

  “Not much further. He only views me from the midsection up.” He turned his gaze to Sam. “What do you suggest?”

  “He is tapped into national security. You know he’s already heard about Ria. How do you think he’ll react to that?”

  “He’ll demand we kill her, or give her to him. The same with you, I believe.” T’talin pushed his food bowl away. “Is it possible he is ignorant and will only ask about the treatment for the Shakes?”

  “I doubt it, though I’m sure he still wants that. I need a computer, a way to communicate. I’ve seen the tech he uses to communicate with you. Very elegant. One channel, no way to shift it, locked up tightly. In all your foraging, you haven’t found a useable laptop.”

  “They’ve found a great many, but I don’t know enough to see them function and he’s kept them deliberately ignorant of computer technology,” Ria volunteered.

  “Can you ascertain wha
t is newest?”

  “No. I know what is strangest to me, but I have no idea how far design has progressed. When I died…” She looked away a moment, “…when I died, they were very thin, almost flexible and growing smaller and smaller. I don’t know if I’d recognize a computer from a wrist watch now. If they even have wrist watches anymore. The device I took the tests on wasn’t very familiar.”

  “You have a point.”

  He noted the small smile that danced across her face. Fascinating.

  “Can I listen in to the conversation?” Sam wanted every edge he could get.

  “You will sit close by and hear it all. You can offer suggestion on a keyboard and T’talin will see what you write. Hammer will not. Stay with me, his viewing area is limited. Ria, do you wish to observe?” Milaar reached across the table and Ria took her hand.

  “Yes. I will stay calm.”

  “You will likely need to lie if you want to protect her.” Sam stated bluntly. “Can you do that?”

  “Yes. It is against our nature, but I have skimmed the surface often enough I can do so without betraying my species. I will not allow her to be hurt. Or you, Agent Montgomery.” T’talin stood up. “Milaar will escort you. I will request of the winnowers that they make available the latest mechanical items recovered.”

  Milaar watched him leave the room. “He is a good leader. His predecessor proved unable to accept that Hammer misled us.”

  Sam shrugged. “Times often require of us actions we are not accustomed to, but able to adapt to.”

  Ria scowled. “I remember who said that. Bastard.”

  Her reaction made Sam chuckled.

  She glared at him. “Just an excuse to violate the constitution and invade the privacy of citizens!”

  Before he could reply, she pushed her seat away and stormed from the room.

  Milaar tilted her head. “You push her memory. Excellent.”

  “Not a fond memory, obviously.”

  “To what does it refer?”

  “The Supreme Court’s ruling regarding the right of the office of Homeland Security to access what had been considered private communication between citizens in order to better protect the state from terrorist actions.” Sam recited the justification without thought. It had been drummed into him in school. As a younger man, he thought it logical. Twenty years of watching the system he’d swore to serve invade and abuse the very concept of freedom had tempered that enthusiasm. He sighed.

  “Ah, you believe her rational is justified?”

  “Partly. Now, explain more to me of how this meeting will take place, please.”

  “It will be easier to show you. Shall we?”

  Glad to be done with a topic he didn’t want to consider in depth, he followed her. She led him to a large room, pointing to a bench off to the side. Ria already sat at one end, fiddling with her hair. Milaar sat at the other, leaving him to perch between them.

  She spoke clearly to him. “If Ria attempts to rise, restrain her, please.”

  Sam glanced at her. “Been in trouble before?”

  “I can hear how he lies, but can’t explain why.” She sat her hands in her lap, letting the braid drop to one side.

  Her reply communicated little. Sam just snorted and turned to Milaar.

  She tapped the side of the bench left open and it shifted to a position slightly in front of her torso. “I can swiftly communicate with T’talin on this. “

  Ria pointed to the wall at their left. “Hammer will appear there and only see what is directly before him. He cannot see or hear us. Behind T’talin you will see a control room.”

  “The control room?” He wondered aloud. “The bridge?”

  “I suppose so. I’ve never been there. It’s immersed.”

  “Does Hammer know you can function in an oxygen environment?”

  “Yes, his grandfather found our adolescents outside their scout vehicle.” Milaar calmly replied.

  “Must be time.” Ria stated. “Here we go.” She reached out and clasped his hand, tightly.

  6

  The room darkened, and the wall to their right gradually lightened. The illusion of dimension impressed Sam a great deal. The bridge, or the appearance of the bridge, put him in mind of a submarine’s control room. There were bulges and lights, screens and levers. And floating amidst it all were what he assumed were earlier versions of the Aleena. He blinked, trying to see clearly. Definitely put him in mind of octopus, but with a more defined torso. They manned the controls diligently.

  T’talin entered and stood in front of their bench, facing the wall to the left. A loud hum filtered in and as he watched, the wall the commander gazed at grew lighter and slowly came into focus. Alfred Hammer the Third sat on a wooden chair before a paint faded wall. He wore an open necked shirt as if he’d just stepped from a walk on a beach.

  Subtle, Sam thought. He leaned to Milaar, speaking softly, “He found the kids on a beach?”

  “Yes, and sheltered them in that structure behind him.”

  “Reminding you.”

  “Yes.”

  The audio crackled and then the man spoke, “T’talin, I am very disappointed in you. Where is the woman you risked exposure to rescue?”

  The commander bowed his head. “She is recovering from trauma.”

  Hammer tilted his head. “Really? Why did you disregard my father’s advice in the first place? No, that doesn’t matter. Is this the same woman or did you replicate her?”

  “Replicate, sir?”

  “Don’t toy with me, T’talin. I can set the entire military might of this nation on your pitiful ship. And I will if you continue to be obstinate. What sort of trauma? I’ve seen the tapes of her interrogation. She never spoke, is she mute?”

  “There were elements of her brain that were damaged beyond repair. Speech centers were compromised.”

  “They were!” Ria hissed. “But I recovered.”

  “Is she the same woman, made younger, or is she replica?” Hammer spoke slowly, as if to a child.

  Sam noted how T’talin’s back tentacles tightened. Those were new and a definite clue regarding the tension the commander labored under.

  “Tell him she is part replica, part original.” Sam stated to Milaar. Her finger tendrils played across the surface in front of her and writing appeared below Hammer. T’talin repeated Sam’s words.

  “Her DNA tested as human.”

  “They must have taken a sample from the original tissue only.”

  Painstakingly, Sam led T’talin through a simple path of deception. At last the man seemed satisfied regarding Ria’s abilities. He asked if the security man taken with her survived.

  T’talin bowed his head and recited Sam’s lie. “Unfortunately, the head injury proved very severe. He lives, but remains unconscious. My medical personnel tell me he will not regain the ability to think or function.”

  “Fine, use his body to test the Shakes treatment. Better that he simply disappear.”

  Ria’s hand shook in his.

  Sam had to admit, that was very cold blooded, but not unexpected.

  “I want the woman. Bring her to the beach.”

  Sam looked at Milaar. “How long can he be put off? What is reasonable, as long as possible?”

  Milaar tapped on the screen and T’talin improvised.

  “We are far the southern hemisphere; it will take three weeks, at least, to meet you. What will you do with her? She is our responsibility.”

  “No, she is mine. You should never have disobeyed my father, but since you did, I’ll take care of the mess. I want her and I want the treatment for the Shakes, in three weeks. If you do not cooperate, I will suggest testing of a new military weapon that will see you crippled. My father destroyed San Diego to make a point, do not force my hand.”

  Ria tried to pull free of Sam, almost shrieking. He hauled her into his lap and wrapped arms around her.

  She stared at him. Hoarsely she whispered, “What does he mean, destroyed San Diego? Sam
?”

  “I’ll explain, let T’talin finish!” Shit, he didn’t realize she didn’t know about the San Diego disaster. She’d lived in San Diego, he remembered that detail from her funeral coverage. But how was Hammer involved? He shook his head, holding tightly to Ria as T’talin concluded with humble and contrite negotiations.

  The image on the wall faded and the lights grew. Ria jerked from Sam’s hold and stalked over to T’talin. “San Diego?”

  The Aleena commander bowed his head and led her back to the others.

  “What do you know of San Diego, Agent Montgomery?” Milaar turned to face him.

  He sighed, wanting to somehow warn Ria first. “You have the right to be furious, remember that.” He closed his eyes before speaking. “In 2041, a massive oil rig fire occurred in Mission Bay, at the first rig allowed close to the shore. The fire spread a toxic plume across the city and millions died. The bay filled with a deadly sludge that was partly cleared by the compound Dr. Fredericks developed. But it’s still bad. San Diego is a wasteland, Ria. I’m sorry.”

  Her face flushed, she swallowed. He actually saw sweat break out, then she froze. Her eyes glazed over and she turned to T’talin. “Why would Hammer want to punish you by destroying San Diego?”

  “I wanted to return you, in a coma, to this San Diego after he admitted to that place being your home. An open act of defiance, he swore to stop me from entering the bay or even getting close. We approached to find what Agent Montgomery described. I haven’t openly defied him since. I am sorry, N’sila.”

  “How could he do that?” Her attention, cold and indifferent, turned to Sam.

  He noticed her hands were clenching, then relaxing, only to return to fists. He reached out and took her arm, lifted her hand and held it closed. “He’s a bastard and I don’t know, but I will find out.”

  “This happened the year after I died. I still knew people…there…” She shuddered.

  He felt her hand flex in his.

  She studied his face. “Why did he hate me so much?”