When Aliens Weep: An Alien Apocalyptic Saga (Species Intervention #6609 Book 7) Read online

  Silence ticked by slowly as Dezi waited for an aura in response. Forbation cocked his head and stared into Dezi’s face. He raised a golden, crinkled hand and caressed the blank and crisp papers on the table. He nodded his head a few times and smiled at Dezi. Without sending another aura, he calmly patted the paper and left the kitchen, his wings clasped tightly to his back and his lion-like tail held high.

  What the heck was that all about? Dezi wondered.

  “Hey, Dez,” Cobby shouted from the kitchen entrance. He was shadowed closely by Abby.

  Dezi looked up. They certainly have been thick as thieves lately. “What’s up guys?”

  The couple hurried over, Cobby dropping a small, slender amber metal cylinder on the sheaf of paper Dezi had pushed aside. As it landed, it made a mark on the paper.

  “What’s this, a pen?” Dezi picked up the metal object. It sat in his hand just like a pen. He turned it to and fro, not seeing what end to write with. Quickly dropping it back on the paper, he rubbed his arm as a flush of warmth infused his skin and traveled up to his shoulder.

  “What’s the matter, Dezi?” asked Abby.

  Brushing the strange sensation off, Dezi resorted to his usual bravado. “Nothin’ babe. What could be wrong?” He gave Abby his best grin. “We’re all alive aren’t we?” Turning back to the metal object, he nodded his head toward it. “So what’s with that?”

  Cobby bent down and picked it up. “It looks like a pen but I don’t see where the point is.” He glanced at Dezi’s blank papers. “It made a mark.” He reached down and tried to scribble on the paper. The metal object left no marks.

  “So what’s the big deal about a pen that doesn’t work?” asked Dezi.

  I don’t know if it’s a pen, Dezi. Forbation didn’t say.”

  “Forbation?”

  “Yeah, He stopped us in the hallway and asked us to pass this on to you.” Abby’s brows drew tight, furrows on her brow causing her skin to tighten. “He also asked us to make sure you guard it with your life.”

  Dezi drew back. “What the heck is all the mystery about? Why can’t he just tell me straight out what he wants?” Dezi slapped his hand on the paper, causing the cylinder to roll off the table. Cobby caught it before it hit the floor.

  “I don’t know, Dezi, but I’m sure Forbation has a reason he wants you to have this.” Abby slipped her hand over Dezi’s.

  “He did say one other thing.”

  “Well, give, girl.”

  “He said you’ll be the one to make it happen. You’re the one with the recipes.” She looked blankly at Dezi. “What do you think he means?”

  “Damned if I know.” Rising, Dezi slipped the cylinder into his apron, rolling the papers and adding them to his bottomless pockets. “All I know is, ya better not be late for dinner.” Dismissing the subject, Dezi rose and headed to his new supply chest. There were chores to be done and dishes to prepare. And if anyone should avoid being late, he knew it was him. Not with this hungry crew on his hands.

  ***

  As evening wore on, Bonnie helped Dezi clear the remains of dinner. He was reminded of what they’d all lost as the noise level in the kitchen never rose above a decent decibel level. Quite unlike the tempo and riotous point that had been the norm back on Earth. Forcing the memory of the voices they’d lost from his mind, Dezi listened in to the gentle stories that circulated the table.

  Sidestepping a dancing Maya, he showed her back to her mother as he listened to Netty explaining her work to the others. “It was very rudimentary but it was life. My very first original life form.” She beamed with pride, reaching down to hug Echo. “We did it together. I can’t take all the credit.”

  “So where was Wil in all this?” asked Cobby. Abby gazed fondly at Wil.

  “It was Wil that understood that we shouldn’t try to create something that fulfilled too many functions. It eats, breathes and can multiply on its own. Yes, its life span is very quick but the original subject still lives after two days. Forbation promised that it will be sent to a sustainable habitat within the next month or so if we can get it to evolve a long lifespan. It needs some more study and a few more cell generations before it can be released. Just in case. We need to know everything about it. How it will survive, its limitations, its breeding capacity. Then we watch closely how it interacts with the new environment and the other life that resides there. We need to be ready to make an adjustment if any deleterious conditions evidence themselves.”

  From across the table Kenya commented, “It sounds like fun, Netty, but so much responsibility. What if you accidently created a monster?”

  “This is being done on a cellular level, hon. It is completely controllable. Although it hasn’t always been so. That’s how some diseases start. And I have it on good authority that some wondrous life has been created from mistakes.” Netty lowered her voice. “Like the Kreyvens . . . and us, Homo sapiens.”

  “But you were a different kind of mistake, Sister. A mistake to make all minions proud.” Echo’s aura included them all, suffusing the room with feelings of love and family.

  The night wore on as the remaining survivors chatted on. Raucous laughter, Dezi’s desserts and war stories about their new jobs all combined to help lift their spirits and give them hope that their lives could go on with satisfaction and comfort as long as they had each other.

  The lone dissenter sat back against the wall, careful to not touch the organic membrane that clearly lived, breathing rhythmically as the Womb oversaw their new sanctuary. Bonnie strummed her fingers on the table, torn between frustration and anger. She was learning to keep it buried until the right opportunity came her way. She glanced up briefly, wondering where Jose was. The time was well overdue for him to rejoin the survivors. Her eyes rested on a relaxed and happy Cobby and Abby. They sat chatting with Chloe as Maya strived for their attention, Netty and Wil looking on indulgently. She wondered if the new twosome had something to do with Jose’s absence. I need to start paying attention. Maybe it’s time to accept things as they are. Put some pain behind me and join the human race again. She snorted with bitterness at the inadvertent irony of her thought. Glancing around, she observed Dezi staring at her. She sent him a tentative smile.

  Growing bored, she rose and slipped away silently to her bedroom, completely missing Dezi’s answering grin and the moment Ivey stopped by shyly to ask for her. When told Bonnie had gone to bed, the vibrant minion quickly flitted away, her proud fire butterfly trailing flames and sparks behind her.

  ***

  Dezi cut a large piece of his mixed grain and red tulip flatbread. It didn’t look appetizing but it tasted like heaven thanks to the red berry-like beads that were cultivated to feed one of the captive species the minions were studying. It had been a great privilege to accompany Baby through the labyrinth hallways as the happy minion’s aura plucked away in Dezi’s brain, extolling the wondrous nature of their enormous and eclectic growing field.

  When they’d finally arrived at their destination a few days ago, Dezi was shocked to see not a drop of soil or the lush greenery he’d expected. Instead, he was met by rows and rows of shelves that featured thousands and thousands of enclosures. Some had plants growing out the top, some featured only an array of what Baby claimed was special agar that fermented the growth of nourishment, indigestible by humans. To Dezi’s surprise, a group of minions worked feverishly with tools to pummel what looked like green rocks into stones that were carried off to become delectable delights for another species.

  It was within these rows of strange edibles that Baby led him to a deep and low table that contained an enclosure of what resembled nests. On the nests sat dome-shaped creatures about five feet tall. They were covered with black and white scales. Each creature was surrounded by five or six smaller creatures that clamored for attention. The creature’s obvious young did not have scales. Red beads hung in clumps from their hides. The table top was littered with them from the offspring that had aged and matured into adolescence.


  Baby’s aura explained. “We call them tulips.” He stretched out his tiny hand and swept up a handful of discarded beads. “It only takes a few to produce a savory flavor and appealing color. Try it tonight, Brother Dezi. You will have a wondrous hit on your hands.” Baby’s wings fluttered with excitement, picking his body up off the floor. Settling down, he reached under the table to pull out a sack. Together, they collected a sackful of beads, the previous owners of the flavor beads ignoring them both.

  “I should warn you, though. It has a strange effect on certain people. Nothing big. Just . . . gentle. And distinct. You will see, my Brother.”

  Dezi’s eyes swept the room as he wondered what the heck Baby meant. As far as he could see, tables were piled with unusual living plants and mysterious objects that when combined with another strange item would produce a tasty confection for any number of species held captive for study or observation. Minions filtered in and out, harvesting as they went. Everyone needed to be fed regardless of species.

  “Will the gang like it, Baby? That’s all I care about.”

  Baby nodded his head, eyes big and gleaming. “Fear not, Brother.”

  Tapping his chin, Dezi got an idea. It sounded like the beads were special. Something had been percolating in the back of the lonely chef’s mind for a few days and the beads might just be the answer.

  His mind snapped back to the present moment, as Dezi scanned the kitchen. No one was paying him any attention. He quickly wrapped the fragrant piece of flatbread in a cloth and made his way from the hallway to the bedrooms, stopping in front of a doorway he’d had his eyes on for a few days.

  “Hello? Bonnie, mind if I come in?”

  Bonnie looked up from her bed with startled eyes. “Well sure, Dez. Come on in,” she welcomed him.

  Taking a seat, Dezi blinked as he took in the riot of colors and designs. “Yeah, this is what I would expect from you,” he said shyly.

  Bonnie glanced at him sharply, not missing the change in his behavior. “What’s up, Dez?”

  Dezi brought his hand with his offering out from behind his back. “This is for you.” A breathlessness escaped from his lips, drawing her attention again.

  She slipped off the bed to reach out. “You didn’t need to do this, Dez. I’m not really hungry.” She ran her hand through her hair, making it stand on end. “As a matter of fact, I’m a little tired. Do ya mind . . . ?”

  Dezi’s face fell, his hurt so obvious Bonnie relented.

  “Ya know, I could always stand for a little more of one of your goodies.” She sat back on the bed and leaned in to take a sniff. “I don’t think I’ve tasted this before. It smells great.” The flatbread disappeared down her throat. A lazy look appeared in her eyes, a smile dimpled her face. “Come on over here and sit by me, Dez.” She patted a spot on the bed. Dezi hurried over and got comfortable on the bed.

  “Ahhhh . . . now isn’t this luxury?” Bonnie sighed in contentment. Dezi edged deeper in the softness of the bed, Bonnie a mere three inches from him.

  “So how come we haven’t gotten together like this before? It reminds me of the time we raised Chance. Remember that little devil?” she laughed.

  “Yeah. I sure loved that little guy,” Dezi grinned.

  Bonnie sighed. “We did good together with Chance. I had so much fun with you, Dez. That was soooo long ago. Decades. Before I married Peter.” At the mention of Peter’s name, Bonnie grew silent. “Dezi . . . he’s not coming back is he?”

  “No, babe. I don’t think he will.”

  Bonnie gave a shudder, the beginning of a torrent she’d been holding back. Dezi reached out to hold her, wetness soaking his shirt as she cried out the healing tears that might . . . just might . . . start her on the path to recovery. Maybe it will give me a chance? He grinned to himself as he realized the pun. He could only hope.

  Bending down, he placed a slight kiss on her head and wrapped his arms tighter.

  Chapter 11

  Jose hurried along the corridor, its translucent walls throbbing with life as he found his way back to the part of the Womb where his last tour had ended. He attempted to shrug off the tomb-like silence of the place, anxious to hear the laughter and real voices of his friends and family again. Human voices, not voices in his mind.

  Forbation stood waiting for him, staff in hand, with other minions flying haphazardly. The day’s work had begun in earnest. But quiet . . . always the silence. If he listened hard maybe he would hear the rustling of the minions’ wings as they fluttered by. As he approached Forbation, minions began to cluster overhead, preening with the hope that Jose would notice them. He gave them a snappy salute as Forbation waved them back to work with his staff.

  “Good morning, Brother Jose. I see you look well.” Forbation appeared to study Jose closely. His aura caressed Jose’s brain. “I hope we can come to some kind of agreement today. You have seen every inch of the Womb that offers a splendid opportunity to dedicate your life’s work.”

  Jose assumed a petulant scowl. “Well, you won’t let me work with Abby and nothing else has grabbed me. You won’t let me experiment and I’m not about to clean up after the life forms you have around here. I think I could be more useful than that.”

  Forbation’s aura swirled soundlessly as he studied Jose. Finally he relented. “All right. I will allow you to accompany a group on a tour of the weapons room. Abby, Netty, Wil, Echo and Baby will be along. Perhaps it is time for you to integrate back into your family.”

  Jose brightened, a disbelieving smile on his face. “Gee . . . thanks Forbation.”

  Forbation winced. “Brother . . . Brother Forbation, please.”

  Jose grabbed Forbation and lifted him off the floor to swing him around, his staff clattering to the floor.

  “Please, Brother Jose. My bones are not meant for this extreme behavior. Please put me down.”

  Jose sat him back on the floor, clapping his hands in delight. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road.”

  Forbation unfurled his wings and straightened up. “Come. We have a way to go.” He rippled his wings then took to the air, Jose and his larger wings cartwheeling above, followed more slowly. As Forbation and Jose approached the Elders that stood alongside a plain wooden door, Jose’s hurt quickly vanished. Landing gingerly, they were greeted by a show of warm hellos. Maya peeked from behind her mother’s skirt, tugging on Echo’s hand.

  Netty’s aura spoke to Forbation as she announced to all. “I hope you don’t mind me bringing her with us. She’s so restless and I thought if I spent some extra time with her . . .”

  Forbation patted her arm. “That is quite alright, Sister. But don’t let her out of your sight. The objects in these rooms are not toys.”

  “Look, Mama.” Maya held up her other hand to display Echo’s long-forgotten fanny pack. “Echo let me have it. If I wear it, I will become a dude. Just like Echo used to be.”

  “Used to be?” Echo’s indignation resonated.

  Netty laughed ruefully. “I’m sure that’s what we all need. Watching you turn into a dude. Well . . . strap it on and let’s go.”

  Everyone waited while Maya struggled with the fanny pack. Echo stepped up to lengthen the belt. The adults turned away as Netty captured her exuberant child’s hand to bring up the rear.

  Forbation turned to open the plain wooden door that revealed a wall of a hard substance. He slammed it with his staff, the sound low, and the timber solid. As if a signal had been given, the wall slid back to reveal a vast auditorium lined with every kind of contraption under the sun. Shiny and dull metals, rounded and pointy. Boxed objects of all sizes and against one wall were guns, in rows as long as the eye could see: small guns, large guns, incomprehensible guns and guns pretzeled into phenomenal shapes. No one ever seemed to have any trouble identifying guns. No matter what they looked like, you still needed to point and pull a trigger. In the middle of the floor sat rows of small metal vats of liquid, surrounded by a tightly woven mesh; around and over the
top.

  “What is this exactly?” Abby asked.

  Forbation stepped forward and with a flourish of his hands proclaimed, “This is our weapons lab.”

  “Weapons? Why do you have need of weapons? You’re about life.”

  Forbation’s eyes glittered. “Yes, we are. Life is our reason for being. If only other species felt the same way. You see . . . these weapons don’t belong to us. They belong to species we have studied in the past. We need to know their strengths and weaknesses.”

  As Forbation spoke they strolled down into the room, Maya growing impatient for her mother’s attention as Netty and Wil’s covert looks expressed their concern and trepidation. Gleaming metals and razor edges greeted them everywhere they looked. They remained mystified by the enigma of other displays.

  “Follow me. I have arranged a surprise for you.” Forbation led them over to a thick metal cube that rose six feet from the floor. Two waiting minions stood at attention as the group approached, their tails twitching anxiously.

  “Shh . . . Maya honey . . . settle down,” Netty placed her arm on the slender shoulder of her daughter. Forbation tossed a baleful glance at Netty and Maya before continuing.

  At a signal from Forbation, the minions drew back and a wall in the cube opened. Inside sat another cube, this one five inches tall. A blast of frigid air wafted out at the Elders. The minions rushed in and placed a solid piece of wood in the farthest corner and ran back to the door to press the button that closed the door. From a concealed control, one of the minions pressed another button and a large panel slid back where the door had been, revealing a window into the cube.

  “What are we supposed to see, Brother Forbation?”

  The wise minion placed his hands to the sides of his face for emphasis. “You will be witnessing one of the most destructive and insidious weapons ever devised by another species.” He held up a finger. Even Maya settled down, feeling the tension from the adults. With a nod to the minions, he commenced the demonstration.

  All eyes focused on the small cube inside the big cube. As they watched, the cube grew translucent and fractured, splitting open along the break. An olive-green round object sat up and slithered out over the fractured cube. It was tubular in shape with a glistening eye at the tip of what appeared to be the head.