And What of Earth

Chapter 3



Barb showed up at precisely 5:54, as always. She noticed Jennifer's change in demeanor, but understood what caused it when Jennifer told her that the army had visited twice. She gave the younger girl a hug and told her that everything would be okay. Jennifer gave her a weak smile, wished her a quiet night, and left.

"Buck up, Jenn," she told herself, as she approached the first houses on Main on her walk towards home. "Smile like you always do. Reassure them. Let them know that nothing horrible is happening." She forced her chin up, drew her shoulders back, and put on what she hoped was a confident smile. The walk home took longer than normal, as she gave her neighbors the same message she had given the world the night before. Just visiting. Curious about us. Nothing bad is happening. It's going to put Jewel on the map (at last).

Left onto Emerald. The black barrier's presence had a jarring effect. A platoon of soldiers now stood at attention about 6 feet from the barrier. As she approached Briar, one of the soldiers turned and stuck up his hand. "Sorry, Ma'am. No one is allowed any closer."

She slowly walked up to him. "Except for me, Corporal. I live behind that barrier. The Wakira let me leave this morning with the proviso that I return this evening once my shift at the clinic was over."

"Bailey!" A man with sergeant stripes hurried over. "You lunkhead! That's the woman from the broadcast. She goes in, she comes out without hassles. Understood?"

The corporal didn't take his eyes off of Jennifer. "She's the one?"

"Yes, she's the one. Let her pass."

A hole in the line opened and Jennifer stepped through. "Thank you Sergeant. Now, boys, in a moment, one or two hands will reach out through the barrier, take my arm and pull me through. It's the only way anyone or anything can get to the other side. So, don't be shooting at what you see." They all murmured in agreement, and Jennifer moved to within a foot of the barrier. "I am Jennifer Hodges," she said to the black wall. "I have returned as promised."

A hand appeared and grasped Jennifer's forearm. She allowed the unseen alien to pull her through the barrier. "I thank you," she said to the Wakiran still holding her arm. Another came alongside of her and grabbed her other arm. "What's going on?"

"You will come with us," one said, tugging on the arm he held. "The mission commander wishes to speak with you immediately."

"Tell the mission commander that I will be there as soon as I take care of my father." She gave a slight jerk of her arms to see if the mild resistance would be enough to set her free. It was not. They grasped her arms even tighter.

"No. You will come now." They tugged harder now, and she lurched forward two steps.

"Release your hold on my arms and I will go with you. Otherwise, you will have to stun me and carry me there. Do you wish to carry me down those stairs?" she asked, pointing to the 130 stairs down to field level. "Or would you prefer having to carry me down the hill to the school, then up the small hill to the ship?" She waited for a response. "Let go of me, and I will go there voluntarily. The choice is yours." The two sets of hands let go almost simultaneously. "I thank you," she told them, not meaning it in the slightest. "Let's go see what Myka wants." She went on ahead of them and they scrambled to fall in behind her.

Her mind raced as she trotted down the steps, deliberately racing ahead of the aliens who were supposedly dragging her to the mission commander. She had done what she had promised -- what had caused him to turn on her like this? At the bottom of the stairs, she headed straight for the open hatch of the ship. In front of the hatchway stood a lone guard. She purposefully walked up to him, and brusquely said, "The mission commander wishes to see me." The guard walked her to a room near the rear of the ship.

"Where are the guards?" Myka asked her coldly.

"They're coming. Not only are they having problems with the gravity, they definitely don't like stairs. What's going on, Myka? Why am I being treated like an enemy?"

He pointed to a chair, and she sat down without protest. He stood over her, trying to intimidate her. "We analyzed the broadcast last night. You used a second language at the end of it."

"Klingon" they both said in unison.

"How do you know Klingon?" she asked, suddenly pleasantly surprised, despite the frostiness of his demeanor.

"We know of Klingon. Our understanding of the language is minimal. Who were you sending the message to? And what did it mean?"

Jennifer tilted her head in confusion. "Myka, it's an artificial language. It was invented for the Star Trek television and movie series. Why does my speaking Klingon bother you?"

"We have not yet determined where these Klingon are located. We believe they might be a client species of the Kendarit."

"Where they're located? Myka, they're not real. They are a fictional species, just like the Romulans, the Vulcans, and all the other characters. Who are the Kendarit?"

The two guards huffed and puffed their way into the room. "We are sorry, Mission Commander."

He spoke harshly to them for a brief second and they slunk back out into the corridor. Turning back to Jennifer, he asked, "What are fictional characters?"

Again she tilted her head in confusion. "Fictional characters? You don't know what fiction means?"

"All we know is from the broadcasts that were picked up by one of our ships 12 ninedays ago. We have been trying to determine who these aliens are and where they are based."

Jennifer rolled her eyes and stared at him in stunned amazement. "Myka, they are not real. They do not exist. None of them do. They were created for several different entertainment series. The shows have been around for over 50 of our years. You don't understand what fiction is?"

The alien leader's facial expression changed. "They are lies? Why would you transmit lies, unless it was to deceive other species?"

"Why would we try to deceive real aliens when we didn't even know that real aliens existed? Some of us believed that we were the only sentient lifeforms in the universe."

"I do not understand."

"I can see that. What do your people do for entertainment?"

He was taken aback by the question, but answered anyways. "Music. Sports. Recreation. Challenges. Travel."

"That's it? No fanciful stories of your past? Stories invented to entertain or provoke thought or introspection?"

"Invented stories? Why would anyone wish to create stories that are clearly untrue? It is irrational. It is even more irrational to wish to watch or read such stories." He backed up and perched himself on the corner of his desk.

"Then call us irrational," she told him. "Oh crap, Myka. That means almost all of what you think you know about us is based on fictional TV programs!" She stood slowly and walked over to him. "When you reached orbit, didn't you wonder why our space station is so primitive? Didn't you wonder why you could detect no shuttlecraft flying about? If I remember Star Trek correctly, there should have been several spacedocks in orbit either building or repairing starships. Didn't anyone notice the discrepancy?"

"We were unable to reconcile the facts as we knew them and what we discovered. We considered that this planet was actually a colony world and that your species homeworld was located elsewhere."

"Nope. This is it. This is all that we've got." They were silent for a moment. "The message in Klingon was 'I bet you wish you were me'. Another way of saying it would be that I felt confident that there were people like me in the world who wished that they could have been the first people to interact with the Wakira. That's all."

"I wish that I had proof of this 'fiction'".

An idea popped into Jennifer's mind. "You want proof that the Klingon language and everything regarding Star Fleet and warp drive is not true? Then come with me next door to the school. There are things there that will prove to you that I have not betrayed you in any way, and that the Wakira are the only aliens we have encountered so far." He looked at her but said nothing. "Myka, I have been falsely accused of acting dishonorably -- of betraying the trust that you and the Empire have given me. I deserve the right to an adequate defense. Do you wish to learn the truth, or are you going to execute me for a crime that I did not commit."

He blinked twice. "Execution was not an option that I had considered."

She looked hard into his eyes. "I deserve the opportunity to prove my innocence. I promised to never betray you. I have not. I will not. Let me prove it to you."

He stood, his eyes never leaving hers. "I cannot see how going to the second level educational facility will prove your innocence. Or, for that matter, prove that this 'fiction' exists." He stopped, obviously trying to make a decision. "Why is it that I find myself breaking every rule for you, Jennifer? Let us go. However, I expect this excursion will fail to produce the results you seem to be hoping for."

"Then be prepared to have your expectations overturned." She turned and walked out of the room, with an obviously displeased alien commander following close behind.

Upon exiting the ship, they turned left and went behind the stern of the vessel, and headed towards the slope that led down to where the school building was. The slope ended in a 5-foot high concrete wall, about 8 feet from the brick-clad building. Jennifer lithely jumped off the wall, and started searching through the tall grass that had grown quickly since the school year had ended. "There it is!" she called out victoriously. She stood, holding a metal pipe that looked to be almost 12 feet long. She changed to a two-handed grip and waved it about. Myka, still standing on the wall, slowly moved his left hand toward his sidearm.

"Relax, Myka! I'm not going to hit you with this. Geez!" She changed her grip again, holding the pipe staff-like and waded through the tall grass to the corner of the building. Upon reaching the corner she turned back towards a very confused Myka and started marching back, looking up and counting the windows as she went by. "Lounge. 201. 203. Fire stairs. 205. Here it is, room 207." She double-checked her count and nodded. Very carefully, she pushed the end of the pipe up into the wooden sash of the lower pane and gently pushed up. Moving the pipe more towards the middle of the window, she pushed again. And again, after placing the pipe at the far end of the window. It popped open about an inch and a half. "They still haven't fixed the window lock after all these years."

She climbed up onto the wall beside Myka and carefully poked the pipe through the narrow gap she had just produced. Very gently, she pulled down on her end of the pipe. Using the brick window ledge as a fulcrum, the window jumped open another 3 inches. She looked at him and smiled. "I haven't tried this since I was 15." She placed her end of the pipe down on the wall, jamming it into a gap caused by the forms that were used when it was poured. "Let's see if I can still walk a beam." She pulled her sneakers off, and started walking barefoot up the angled pipe to the window ledge. Despite a couple of minor bobbles, she made it up the improvised walkway on the first try. Grasping the underside of the open window, she eased her butt down onto the ledge and pushed the window fully open. "C'mon, Myka. Your turn."

His mouth hung open. After a moment, he confessed a reluctance (or inability) to imitate her walk up the pipe. Jennifer then suggested that he grab hold of the pipe and go hand-over-hand. Even this idea didn't appeal to him, but duty (and a not-so-small portion of pride) forced him to try. He crossed the gap relatively easily but found himself stuck once he had reached the wall. A little bit of coaxing, several suggestions, and a mighty pull of his arm by Jennifer got him through the window and into the deserted classroom.

She gave Myka a brief personalized tour of the school, showing him which locker had been hers, and sticking their heads into the gym where she had practiced her gymnastics. Myka stopped her as she tried to hurry him past the trophy case. He had noticed a newspaper photo of her along with her rival and teammate Candy Underhill. Aside from the photo and attached article, the only other thing in the case was a ribbon, dating back to the winter of 2013, that had the names of the high school's girls gymnastics team from that year: Jennifer, Candy Underhill, and Lynn and Lori Winters, aka the Limber Twins. The team had finished 5th in an 8-team small-school division. Jennifer didn't look upon the ribbon as something to be proud of -- for her, it meant that the school had gotten a reward for being slightly less than average. She stared at it while Myka read the article, but she hurried him along once he had finished, pretending not to hear his questions.

She uttered a wistful sigh after jimmying the lock to the library and opening the door. "My home away from home," she told him, thus adding to his confusion. She waved towards the shelves on the far wall and told him that those books were all fiction. "I think I've read at least half of the books there," she confessed. Next were the four bays of non-fiction, including the 12-year old encyclopedias. After a few seconds of thinking, she remembered that the Star Trek non-fiction books were in Dewey number 791. There they were, all in a tidy little row. She grabbed the three she wanted.

"This one," she said, handing him the smallest and thinnest of the books, "was the original Klingon-English dictionary. It has some information on how the guys behind it came up with the structure and pronunciation rules. This one," she handed him the next largest book, "is an expanded version of the dictionary with a lot more words and more details. And this one," she handed him a large hardcover book with color photos, "describes how they came up with the sets, the costumes and the special effects, and in some cases, how they came up with the story and plot." She subconsciously dusted her hands in her mind. "That will prove that the Klingons don't exist, and will prove that what I said in Klingon was exactly what I told you I had said." The look on her face was purposeful. She turned back to the shelves and hunted for whatever almanac was there. "Here," she said, giving him yet another book. "An almanac for 2011. Unfortunately, it's the most recent we seem to have here. Anything you think you know about us that isn't in this book, is probably fiction. If you'd like, if your people have any problems deciding between the two, I can help them. Now, don't lose these books. They belong to the high school. We probably shouldn't even take them out of the room."

The look on Myka's face was one of complete bafflement. "You illegally entered this building, and this room, and now we are leaving with property that does not belong to us, in order to prove your innocence?"

Jennifer started feeling annoyed. "Have I snuck in here in the past? Yes, many times on the weekends. Just to get away from my mother's yelling. Have I ever damaged anything in doing so? Never. Have I ever taken anything from here in the past? Never. But, you need to know that you can trust me. And you need to know which of your preconceived notions are true and which are not. Short of flying to the Library of Congress and requesting the books from a reference librarian, this is the only way I know how to do it. Don't lose or damage the books, and we can put them back."

"Won't those in authority be aware of our subterfuge? Have we not already triggered multiple alarms?"

Jennifer barked a laugh. "Alarms? There are no alarms in this building. Otherwise I would've been caught 8 or 9 years ago. And Mr. Stone, my neighbor, is the only local authority for this place. And I suspect that he already knows that I was sneaking into here when I was a student."

The alien looked as if he was going to do one of those double-blinks, but didn't. "Do you mean to say that on Terra, it is considered acceptable to commit illegal acts in order to accomplish a goal?"

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "No, I didn't say that. I suppose that we could've gone to Mr. Stone's house, and asked him for the key. Assuming he has the key and that the custodian doesn't have it. Because he lives 18 miles away on his farm. Expediency. It doesn't necessarily excuse illegal acts. If you feel guilty about it, go see Mr. Stone tomorrow and tell him what we did. Tell him I swiped your weapon and forced you at gunpoint to be my accomplice if you need to. He can reprimand me if he wishes." She turned and headed out of the library. "Let's go. The sooner we get back to your ship, the sooner you can deal with me as you wish." Once again, Myka dutifully followed.

They exited the same way they had entered. Once Myka had gotten his feet firmly on the ground, Jennifer hooked her feet under a desk, and leaned a long way out the window to hand Myka the books. Once the transfer was made, she pulled herself back in, climbed out onto the brick ledge, and closed the window behind her. A quick slide down the inclined pipe and a short drop to the ground, and the escapade was done. She carefully wrested the pipe out of the gap, and put it back where she had found it. Retrieving her sneakers, they walked the long way around to the football field without saying a word.

She sat back down in the chair she had been in just before they had left the ship. Myka read the introduction to the largest of the four books, while she sat quietly fuming. Crap Jenn!, she thought to herself while she watched his eyes move across the pages. Why are you being so spiteful? Like, you've never made an honest mistake? With that, she dropped her eyes and stared at the floor.

She heard the book close but didn't look up. For some reason, she couldn't shake her anger, her feelings of being hurt. Immature, she screamed inside her head. You're being fricking immature!

Finally, he spoke quietly. "I --. I am at a loss for words. We --. I -- I seem to have misjudged --."

"Happens all the time, Myka," she interjected, without a touch of warmth. "Can I go take care of my dad now? He's probably worried sick."

"Oh. Yes. Yes, of course. Jennifer, I --."

Once again, she cut him off. "I'll be back in an hour for sentencing." She left the ship quickly. Myka started trying to figure out what he had done wrong.

A very sullen, defeated Jennifer returned to the ship 63 minutes later. She walked on board without acknowledging the sentry and walked to the room in the back where she had been escorted to just 2 hours earlier. She stepped through the open door and moved over to the same chair she had sat in earlier. Her arrival startled Myka. Her eyes were downcast, so she didn't see him stand and walk softly over to where she sat. "I want to apologize --" they both said simultaneously.

She lifted her eyes up. They were puffy and red from the crying she had done on the walk back to her house earlier. Despite her alienness, Myka knew that whatever the wound was had dug deep. He said nothing, allowing her to proceed.

"I want to apologize for the way I treated you earlier. It was childish and mean-spirited. I have never been accused of betrayal ever in my life, and it was -- well, it hurt. But what stung more was the realization that I have been cavalier with rules and laws when they have failed to suit me. I had honestly never considered that my going to the school library during non-school hours was wrong or illegal. And rather than acknowledge my guilt, even if just to myself, I lashed out at you." She dropped her eyes again. "I wouldn't blame you if you stopped being my friend. If you hated me."

"Jennifer, I was not hurt by your words or your attitude. I was merely confused. And I probably used wrong words to express my lack of comprehension regarding the unauthorized access to the building. I am sorry that those words have caused you so much pain." He lowered himself to one knee, and very carefully lifted her chin off her chest. "I was the first one to wrong. I still don't understand the purpose of 'fiction', nor why anyone would produce it, but I now know that it does exist. And members of the security team have checked what you said in the broadcast with the dictionaries. You were honest in what you told us. We have dishonored you with the accusations. On behalf of myself, the mission staff, and in the name of our Father, the Emperor, I formally apologize for the wrong we have done you, and the hurt you have suffered." His grey-black eyes continued looking into her doleful blue ones.

Her face briefly screwed up as if to cry again, but stopped. After a sniff, she told him "You don't have to apologize. At least in your case, it was an honest error. I was just being spiteful."

"As I told you last night, honor is one of the pillars of our society. To wrongfully dishonor someone, as we did to you, is considered an abomination. I would not be surprised if you refused to continue to help us. If you hated us." Now, his eyes were downcast. "It is traditional that the guilty party offer something in payment for the harm caused. I do not know what it is that I can offer you. What you would want as compensation."

Jennifer was about to tell him that a gift or compensation wasn't necessary, but stopped. Perhaps she could use this to help ensure mankind's safety -- if it was actually at risk. Another sniff, and she said, "I don't know if you can offer me this. If you can't -- if it is forbidden or whatever -- then don't. For some reason, I keep thinking that the Wakira are not here just to find out more about us. I keep thinking that you are planning on judging us. So, if it is possible, I would ask that you not judge us on what we are, or what we have been, but on what we will be, when we are technologically ready to travel to the stars. If you compare us to the way we were 150 years ago, you'll see that there has been remarkable improvement in the way we treat one another. In the last 20 years, our rates of crime and murder have fallen. We have started programs to help those in the poorest areas to provide for themselves. We still are selfish and egotistical, but we are getting better. So, if it is possible, I ask that you judge us on what we will be like when we finally leave our star system, not on our current failings. Again, if you cannot -- if you are forbidden to do so -- then I will still consider the compensation paid." She paused and watched his eyes leave the floor and look into hers. "My religion dictates that I must forgive any wrongs before I go to bed at night. And to act as if they never happened. Come morning, it will be forgotten, and never brought to mind. This is my promise to you."

He blinked twice. "This is very generous of you, Jennifer. I offer you my personal gratitude. Despite your forgiveness, I shall carry the shame of what we did to you for a long time." He stood slowly, and backed up to his desk to once again perch himself on its corner.

After a long pause, she looked up at him and smiled. "So, what would you like to talk about? I seem to have forgotten what we were just discussing--."



At the same time that Myka and Jennifer were apologizing to each other, General Comiston was on a scrambled encrypted line to the President at the White House.

“What is the status, General?” the President asked.

“The cordons on the roads have been established, with closed circuit cameras at the checkpoints. We are identifying the people leaving the area, and providing them with secure IDs so they can return. Those trying to enter the area, unless they can prove that they belong inside the exclusion zone, are being denied access. She was right in her message last night – several dozen crazies have been stopped, all claiming to be surgically-altered offspring of the Wakira. We are identifying these individuals as well. The unoccupied lands around the town are being patrolled. I have additional men and support staff coming in to solidify the perimeters and to engage in frequent patrols of the empty lands. The NSA is providing frequent satellite images to ensure that no one gets past the perimeter into the zone.”

“What about evacuating the town? When can we start?”

Comiston frowned at the notion. “I have 55 trailers set up just outside the perimeter, enough space, if the people don’t mind being really friendly, for 700 people. That would be enough if we evacuate the town, except obviously for the people stuck behind the barrier. But I urge you, Mr. President, do not order an evacuation. It would be the worst thing we can do.”

The voice of the Secretary of Defence said, “You can’t protect them, General. We have to get them out of harm’s way, if we end up having to attack, or if the aliens decide to attack us. Get ‘em out of there, quickly. Every second you delay puts their lives at risk.”

“I have to agree with the Secretary, General. Civilians need to be removed from the danger zone as soon as is possible. I can’t see any reason to keep them in harm’s way.”

“I beg to differ, Mr. President. I can think of two very important reasons to keep them there. If we move them out, the aliens will notice and will undoubtedly assume that we are moving them so we can mount an attack. If Miss Hodges is correct, they’d be able to defeat us without much effort. Why provoke an attack by them, if the likelihood is that we will lose?”

“Go on--.”

“Even more important, though, is that if everyone not behind the barrier leaves, there will be no reason for the Wakira to allow Miss Hodges to leave the occupied area. She is our only eyes and ears on what the aliens are doing. If the people are gone, she won’t be allowed out. We’ll lose the one asset that we have. Now, normally I would agree with the notion of getting the civilians out of the way, but not in this case. We need them there. If a sense of normalcy exists outside the barrier, the Wakira will be less inclined to be wary. And, we will continue to have the advantage of Miss Hodges providing us with much needed intel on a near-daily basis. The people must stay in place. And we need to get them to continue on as if nothing much has happened. I could have men go door-to-door telling them that the aliens have promised to not attack the people in the town. And that their remaining in town will help prevent a catastrophic war from breaking out. We’ve severed communications in and out of the town already. The only calls that people in the town are getting are ones that have been pre-approved by my staff. We should be able to sit on the situation here in town. What happens outside the exclusion zone though, is the responsibility of others. I urge you, Mr. President, that you evoke a sense of normalcy in Washington and throughout the country. Even in the face of questioning from the press and Congress. Hopefully, the aliens will get the information they want and will leave in a week or two. We need Jennifer Hodges, Mr. President. We need continued access to her. She may be our only hope--.”