And What of Earth

Chapter 7



Friday morning's videoconference with his father did not go well for Myka. The news that his father was on his way to the Terran system confirmed the worst for the mission commander. He had been betrayed by his subordinates -- on his father's direct orders. His father had seen the raw data from the survey of the Terrans and of their history, and, along with certain excerpts of Myka's personal log, had determined, in the older man's opinion, that Terrans were an inherently dangerous species, and could not be allowed to achieve faster-than-light travel. They had to be destroyed while it was still ethically acceptable to the Wakira. Myka's protestations to the contrary fell on deaf ears. Despite his best efforts, Myka knew that the countdown to the extermination of the Terran species had started.

Friday morning at the barrier, Jennifer discovered that the male who normally manned the post wasn't there. She greeted the new person in her best Wakiran, and asked about the usual sentry. The answer that he was ill seemed to her to be rehearsed. She was tempted to probe further then decided against it. Something was happening with the Wakira, and it was getting worse. She thanked him and wished him a pleasant day in his language and approached the barrier.

As usual, she pushed one hand through and then the other then stuck her head out. The guard detail didn't startle as her bodiless head appeared through the black energy curtain. "Hi boys! Human female coming out."

"Hi Jenny," Rafe greeted her, while he checked his watch. "You're late today."

Jennifer finished stepping through the barrier. "Hi Rafe. Don't you ever go off-duty?" She brought her long ponytail forward and draped it over her right shoulder. "With hair as long as this, it takes forever to wash." She paused a moment. "Is that why you never washed your hair when you were in school?"

"Nah. I was too drugged out to care. What a waste of five years of my life!"

"Strangely enough, I felt the same way about high school too, but for a completely different reason. Gotta run. Don't want to make Bethy wait. Have a great day guys!" She hurried down Emerald and turned right onto Main.

The clinic, always critically short on supplies, ran out of latex gloves by mid-morning. Even the liquid soap dispenser seemed to be on its last legs. A number of people showed up at the clinic suffering from scrapes and bruises and suspected (but not confirmed) broken bones. All the patients paid using health insurance. None of them looked familiar.

General Comiston showed up at his usual time of 12:05, with lunch. Jennifer gave a mock squeal of delight when he pulled out cheese fries from one of the bags. "You realize, of course," he told her gravely, "that these will undoubtedly give me an early coronary."

There was little banter or conjecture for that matter while they ate. Jennifer reiterated her observation that something was happening with the aliens -- that they were becoming highly stressed. The fact that one of them was purportedly ill, when Myka had told her that the Wakira never became sick, no matter the planet they were on, intensified the concern they felt regarding the as-yet unknown stressor.

At the end of their time together, the general hinted that Jennifer would notice a change on her walk back. Despite her questions, he remained coy and unresponsive as to what his remark meant. "You'll see when you get back," was all he told her.



Some time after 4, a man wearing a dark suit (in August?!?!), looking decidedly officious in round wire rimmed glasses, walked into the clinic and started looking around.

"Can I help you?" Jennifer asked, for the third time. "Are you sick or hurt?"

"The shelves are almost empty," he said to his little voice recorder. "Only one staff member present."

Jennifer came out from behind the counter and confronted him. "Who are you? Why are you wandering around the clinic?"

He looked up at her (he was a good 4 inches shorter than Jennifer) and sneered. "Who am I indeed? I am from the county auditor's office. And who might you be?"

County auditor? Why would the county audit a clinic that they had clearly abandoned several months previously? "I am Jennifer Hodges. I'm a nursing assistant here."

"I wish to speak to the manager. There are irregularities."

"There is no manager. You guys laid her off over a year ago. You also chased away the only doctor within 40 miles."

"Then who is responsible for running this clinic?"

Jennifer didn't like the man's attitude. There was something quite pit-bullish about him. "There are three staffers left. Aside from me, there are two nurses who split the other shifts. We manage by consensus, though I'm the one who ends up having to call the county asking where our supplies are, or send nastygrams when I'm given the run-around. Why are you here?"

"Why indeed?" He stepped right up to Jennifer and smiled a most demonic smile. "I wish to see the billing files."

"There are no billing files," Jennifer responded, leaning forward so her face was practically over his head. "As I told you, you laid off the manager, who also took care of the billings and remittances. When we get a patient come in who pays by insurance, we send the whole thing to the county for processing. Just like we were told to do."

"The files are not here? The files are required to be here. They are to be made available for inspection at any time. You are in violation."

I'd like to violate your face, Jennifer thought, trying hard not to look angry. "The county told us to send them all the paperwork, when they laid off Mrs. Brown. They have the files. You need to inspect them there."

"No. I am required to inspect them here." He emphasized the last word.

"Well that's going to be slightly difficult isn't it, since we did as we were told and sent them to the county office. If you wish, you can sit down and wait for them to magically reappear."

"You are being obstructive. This too is going into my report."

"I don't care what you put in your report. None of us have been paid in over 9 weeks. So, what's the worst you can do? Fire us?"

"Where did you sell the supplies?"

"I didn't sell any supplies. We haven't gotten any supplies in 3 months. Don't start accusing me of stuff." Jennifer could feel her anger building to a crescendo.

"That's not what these bills of lading say. They say you were sent tens of thousands of dollars of supplies. What have you done with them?"

"There were no supplies. There haven't been supplies. Why don't you go back to the county office and audit them. Since that's where the problem seems to lie."

"No, Miss Hodges. The problem lies with you. Did you not think that there would be repercussions from your radio interview? Where you told a nationwide audience that you haven't been paid in months? Where you stated that the county had abandoned the clinic and this town?"

Jennifer glared at him. His smile grew more malevolent. "You owe the county a total of $22,501 for the missing supplies, and an estimated $19,000 in patient billings. We will be putting a lien on your property. If the sums are not paid in full in 30 days, we will pursue criminal action. Good day, Miss Hodges." He quickly walked out the door.

Jennifer staggered back to her chair. Forty-two thousand dollars? She didn't have $42,000. She had about $4 left in her bank account. How the heck was she going to come up with $42,000?

A sob came forth unexpected. Then another. "No. I'm stronger than this!" Then a third. "I will not cry. Words can never make me cry. Not anymore. I'm stronger than they are!" She sobbed again. "No one can make me cry with words. Never again!" Despite her declaration, she slumped in her chair and wept bitterly.



About 30 minutes later, Bethy showed up. By this time, Jennifer had stopped sobbing, but tears occasionally would stream down her cheeks. She told Bethy what had happened.

"You can't let them intimidate you, kid," Bethy told her. "You can't let them hurt you like this. This is so patently unfair! Rather than admit their mistakes, they sent an administrative goon to threaten you. To punish you. We did what they told us to do with the billings. And the bull droppings they gave you about the supplies -- they know perfectly well that they haven't sent us supplies in 3 months. If it wasn't for Wally and Steve 'forgetting' stuff here every time they picked someone up in the ambulance, we'd have run out of everything long before now." She lifted Jennifer's chin, and used her thumbs to wipe away the young woman's tears. "We'll show them, Jenn. Don't give up. Don't let bullies like that win. Any shipments that supposedly arrived since the Wakira showed up would have to have cleared the two cordons around the town. The army would have records of them. All we have to do is prove that one of the bills of lading is faked. If one of them is faked, then it'll be easy to force them to admit that they are all fake. You leave it to me. Now, go home."

Jennifer looked up at the wall clock. "It's not even 5 o'clock yet, Bethy. You're not supposed to start for another hour." She paused a second. "What are you doing here early anyways?"

"Trudy Jensen's boy saw you crying through the window. His mom got him to go to my place and tell me. Rob is finishing up the supper I had started. The kids are going to play next door until sundown. Rob will bring dinner here and he and I will have a quiet 90 minutes together. It'll be almost romantic." She laughed after the last remark. "Now, go home. Forget everything about the weasel, spend time with your alien friend and forget all about it. You have fun this weekend, understood?"

Jennifer looked Bethy in the eyes. "Back to giving orders, Lieutenant?" she said jokingly.

"Someone's gotta be the commander of our little outfit. Now go. Before Rob comes and you spoil the atmosphere." They both rolled their eyes. "Scat!"

Jennifer stood and hugged her friend. "I owe you, Bethy. Thanks."

The comfort she had gotten from Bethy's early arrival had evaporated before she had crossed Amethyst Street on her walk home. The feelings of fear and self-doubt came flooding back in, and she found herself weeping well before she reached Emerald. She was oblivious to everything around her, reliving the confrontation over and over again. She didn't notice a member of the guard detail ask her to stop for identification, nor did she notice the familiar voice of the sergeant telling him to let her pass. It wasn't until she bumped into a Wakiran male that she snapped out of it.

"I apologize," she said to him in his language. Then in English, "The barrier! What happened to the barrier?"

"Greetings Jennifer Hodges. The army has increased security in the area, and it was decided that the barrier would come down during daylight hours. You look troubled."

"I thank you for your concern," she told him, again in his language, stumbling over the prepositional clause. "I've grown used to having to pass through the barrier on my return. It seems strange not to see it in place. I wish you a pleasant evening, honorable male." She continued on her walk back to the house.

Her father wasn't there when she arrived. She found a note on the kitchen table telling her that he had gone over to a lady friend's house for the evening. She smiled at the news. If she could get her dad married off, she could go back to Brookings, get her job back at the VA hospital and rejoin the band -- if they still wanted her. If she wasn't in prison for the supposed theft and sale of the fictional supplies.

The confrontation flashed back again. This time however, instead of becoming depressed and weepy, she grew angry and determined to clear her name. To set the record straight. And to get proper funding for the clinic -- supplies, a manager, and a doctor. She was tired of making do. Tired of having to improvise. Tired of performing medical tasks that she was not permitted to do, just because the county had gotten rid of the only doctor around. She was tired of it all, and she wasn't going to put up with it any longer. Her eyes narrowed. The dullness that had been in her eyes from depression had been replaced with a hot burning flame of anger and indignation. Dammit, she had had enough!

She exited the house through the basement walkout out back, hopped the fence and walked down the gravel slope towards the football field.

"They're not going to treat me like that!" she declared vehemently. "I've been the fricking nice girl far too long. They're going to find out the hard way that you don't threaten Jenn Hodges and remain unscathed. I'm not called Tiger for nothing. I've got claws, and I'm damn well going to use them."

With every declaration, her anger grew. Her anger and her determination to redeem herself and to punish those who had foolishly thought that they could intimidate her. "I'll rip that little weasel's throat out personally!" Once she reached field level, she stomped up and down the western sidelines, ever increasing the vitriol in her self-talk.