When Aliens Weep: An Alien Apocalyptic Saga (Species Intervention #6609 Book 7) Page 18

  The crowd followed Ivey through an archway to an alcove. They saw two figures being tended by minions who glanced their way then backed away from the tendrils that connected to the figures, bringing them nutrition and the special healing and repairing of cells that would be so critical to their recovery.

  Bonnie stopped in her tracks, stunned. She screamed and ran toward the figures.

  ***

  Ginger Mae’s consciousness lurked just below the surface, trying to emerge. She fought the process, happy and content, warm and comfortable. Something was different and she fought waking up, refusing to let go of the wonderful new sensations that had become part of her lost memories.

  An irritating sound was intruding, forcing her to the surface. A woman was screaming. Is it me? The sound terrified her.

  “Her eyes are moving.”

  “She’s coming to.”

  “Give me some room, please.” A man’s voice. She felt a touch on her shoulder.

  “Come on, baby, wake up for me.”

  Am I dreaming? That touch . . . Ginger Mae opened her eye and shrank back in fear as strange faces crowded in on her. She could hear hysterical sobbing in the background. She moistened her lips with her tongue.

  “Get her some water.”

  A cup appeared. Someone lifted her up . . . the man. She drank eagerly. The water tasted like molten gold; precious, sweet and life affirming.

  “Easy, babe, easy.” The water ran down her chin, soaking her robe. She stopped drinking and looked down.

  “Oh my lord . . . What the . . . ?” She began to kick her legs and flail about, trying to rip away the tendrils that brought unknowing miracles to her ravished body.

  “No, no. They are to heal you,” said a musical voice, low and authoritative. Ginger Mae looked up into the glowing eyes of the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. From her position, she could clearly see wings behind the woman, who now clasped her hands between her own.

  “Ginger Mae? Do you remember me?”

  A cloudy look of confusion filled Ginger Mae’s eyes. “Who are you? Where am I?” She tried to sit up but the man held her down. She moved her head back and forth, the beasts of her terrors nowhere to be seen.

  “Where’s Peter? I need to see Peter.”

  “He’s fine, Mother.” The strange child-like figure stood at her feet.

  “Mother, this is Netty and Hud.” Ginger Mae looked blank. “We saved you, Mother. You’re safe now.”

  “Safe?” she asked faintly. She fumbled under her robe, reaching for her abdomen to check the baby. What? Her stomach was flat.

  “My baby. Where’s my baby?” Ginger Mae struggled, hands grabbing and restraining her. “Peter . . . help me, Peter.”

  The woman called Netty gave a signal and called for someone named Echo. One of the golden creatures stepped to her bedside. Before her eyes, she saw its antlers crack open. The creature held out a hand and a red drop fell into its leather hand, from where it promptly flew toward her. She held her hands in front of her face protectively.

  A tickle at her ear made her reach to scratch. Her hand stopped in mid-air as she calmed down. She dropped her hand back down to her side.

  “My baby,” she whispered. “Please.” The woman named Netty stepped up to the man at her shoulder and asked him to step back. She was joined by the child-like woman and another beautiful winged woman. As they crowded in on her, the golden creature with the butterfly that trailed flames joined them. They all stared down at her.

  Ginger Mae drew a deep breath, amazed at her new calmness. She decided to address them all.

  “I am very grateful for your time and trouble. The beasts that had us caged were slowly torturing and killing us. I don’t know how much longer we would have lasted. But if you could please give me my baby, Peter and I will be on our way.”

  The looks of the strangers saddened. The creature that wore the fire butterfly reached out and took her hand. She felt a delicate stroking in her mind, followed by gentle words.

  “You are mistaken about the beasts. They are Treopians, and are beings of peace and science. It was a great tragedy that your pathway led you to their planet. The chemical makeup of organic human beings is different from theirs, as is their atmosphere. Every time you took a breath, you were breathing cancer-causing elements into your body. The water they gave you to drink was not actual water. There was enough chemical difference to exacerbate your cancer growths. Had they not operated as they did, you would have died quickly.”

  Ginger Mae was stunned. “But my baby . . .” She searched the faces above her, desperate to read deception. But all she saw was sadness, truth and love. “I . . . but . . . but why . . . ? Why did they cut us?” she screwed up her face. “And where is my baby?”

  The minion rhythmically stroked her arm. “Don’t you understand, Sister Ginger Mae? You did not have a baby. It was just another cancerous growth. Every time they cut you it was to remove a growth to give you a chance to live. When the tumor in your abdomen became large enough for them to detect, it was too late. The tumor was very invasive. They were not familiar enough with your anatomy to do chancy surgery. It is the tendrils that have arrested the growth of any cancerous cell in your body. The tumor is still there but the tendrils, given enough time, will absorb the rest of the cancer and any other metastasizing cells. You will be good as new, your leg included. Peter included.” The minion swept her hand toward Peter. Ginger Mae followed the motion of her hands to see a woman weeping over Peter.

  “Who is that woman? Get her away . . . please. I don’t want anyone to touch him.”

  The beautiful woman with the wings spoke. “It’s okay, Ginger Mae. That’s Bonnie. She’s just so happy to have him back.”

  “Now just wait a darn minute. First . . . you can stop calling me Ginger Mae. My name is Bonnie. I’m grateful for your help but I don’t know what you people are up to.”

  The man’s face came into range, full of emotions she couldn’t read. “You don’t remember me, babe?” He took her hand and came close. “It’s me . . . Hud.”

  Ginger Mae watched as everyone exchanged meaningful glances with one another. Looks of pity and sadness. One of the beautiful women held up a hand to quiet everyone. “Are you a fairy or something?”

  Netty smiled and turned to the others. “If you don’t mind, Hud and I will sit with her for a while. She needs a bit of history right now. Please let Wil know I’ll be ready in time for Forbation. I think we should all go together.” She got nods all around and Ginger Mae watched the rest drift toward Peter and the other woman they called Bonnie.

  The man called Hud and the beautiful one called Netty settled in.

  “Ginger Mae, I am going to tell you a long story. It will start with my life over two hundred years ago. Listen carefully.” She turned her head at an interruption. A slender man with a mustache, a sheaf of papers and a writing instrument in his hand emerged from behind Netty.

  “Hi, Ginger Mae. It’s me, Dezi. You and I are best friends. Glad you’re back.” A lonely tear slipped down his handsome face. He wiped it away with his sleeve. “I can’t tell you how much it means to have you back.” His eyes shifted around shyly. “If you all don’t mind . . . I’d like to sit in on Netty’s story. I’d like to take a few notes.” He looked down in his lap. “I’m not real good at this new gig a mine but I’m getting better every day,” he said proudly. He nodded toward Netty. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Ginger Mae lay fully relaxed, the tendrils knitting her back together. Working hard on the part of her brain that stored memory, they labored to restore cells destroyed by her brief stay with the Treopians, knowing it was one area that would never be the same.

  Netty’s melodious voice began and Dezi scribbled away.

  “I was only seventeen years old. My loving parents were hardworking farmers. The time was late Prohibition . . .

  Thirty Two Days AE (After Earth)

  Chapter 21

  The ceremonial gathering room that f
ormerly held joy and celebration now sat empty and silent. The soaring ceilings had been raped of the fluttering wings of celebratory minions that gathered elsewhere to share their grief and mourning in private. Even the sun dimmed its rays in shame for the carelessness of the Elder Brother Jose.

  “You can’t be serious, Brother Formation,” cried Abby. Forbation eyed her silently and turned away without the dignity of a response.

  “As I was saying, you will have four Earth weeks. Your companions will be ready to travel by then. Navigator IV will take you to your new home. I am sorry but we can no longer tolerate the disruption and violence that accompanies humans wherever they go. The Womb hoped it would have been quelled within you but I have become convinced that your species would have benefited all life by a final intervention. It has been one thing after another. Sister Bonnie put Navigator IV’s life in danger with the rencet, Brother Jose brought violence to another family member, namely Sister Abby when he struck her, Brother Cobby and Brother Jose took part in a physical brawl with one another. And of course, Sister Doodiet . . . and the rest of our deceased minions.”

  Forbation’s head dipped, overcome with sadness. “I am grieved. Please excuse me for a moment.” Forbation’s aura turned dull, all light diminished. Moments passed as the silence of the room became suffocating. The survivors were in shock.

  “Nonetheless, you are here now and still a problem.” He turned and gave a curt bow to Kenya. “Due to the nature of Sister Kenya’s sacrifice and exhibition of courage, the Womb will allow each of you to select one category of items to take with you. I suggest you choose wisely, for the planet I have selected for you will be rife with unfamiliar dangers. The planet is larger than Earth and similar. It has two moons, one twice as far away as the other so will have a negligible effect on the planet. It has an even rotation around the sun so you will not be subjected to temperature extremes and you will be able to find plenty of water. The planet’s life is rudimentary but you must stay alert.” Forbation eyed them all, his gaze withering.

  “I will allow questions for the next few minutes. From the Elders only.”

  Netty and Abby began together.

  “Please . . .”

  “Do . . .” Abby bowed to Netty who raised her head and assumed an all-business tone.

  “Brother, we are all regretful of the chaos and death that any of our actions may have contributed to the events of the last few days. We are grateful for any and all help and hospitality you have extended to us. Is there any way we can appeal to the Womb for forgiveness?”

  Forbation raised his red staff and shook it at Netty. “It has been decided. Your species is too dangerous and unpredictable. I am particularly disappointed that the destructive human nature has continued in the Elders. The Womb had great hopes.”

  “Will the Womb allow Sister Daisy to accompany us?”

  “It will be Sister Daisy’s decision. She has a destiny and is of great use to us. I implore her to stay but she has until your departure date to consider.”

  “What of the Earth’s wildlife?” Netty indicated them all. “I speak for us all when I request that they be allowed to come with us.”

  Forbation bowed. “As you wish. They will be ready. That will include every last one of them.” Forbation’s aura felt ominous.

  “Does that include the flamers, Brother?”

  “Yes, of course it does.”

  Netty remained silent over the finality in the aura.

  “Come, come, Sister Netty. Will that be all?”

  Netty remained speechless and bowed after nodding her head.

  “I leave you to your musings. It is time for me to join my kind in their mourning. Good day.” Forbation’s wings encapsulated him and abruptly, he was gone.

  ***

  The four weeks passed too quickly, the survivors occupied with their life-dependent choice and the health of Ginger Mae, Peter and Jose.

  As each survivor decided what their items would be, they were assigned a minion to escort them through the Womb to collect their choice so it could be packed in bundles fit for a Kreyven to deliver.

  The pile of goods was enormous. Cobby chose weapons, some easy to operate, some mysterious and intricate. Wil chose tools. Dezi chose kitchenware, enough to serve a banquet to hundreds. Netty chose books from the stars. Kane chose seeds. Bonnie chose medicine, everything from antibiotics to elephant pumices, to poison antidotes. Kenya chose bedding and Abby chose baby paraphernalia, everything from formula to diapers, to onesies.

  Once Ginger Mae and Peter recovered enough to understand their situations, they made their choices, although they needed to be cajoled, their minds not fully grasping the reality of the events. Ginger Mae chose clothing: bright and beautiful fabrics, strong, warm and durable that included two lifetimes’ supply of sewing paraphernalia with which to craft them. Peter selected farming equipment that included a supply of 110hp engines.

  When Jose recovered enough to speak, he asked Wil to make selections of building material in his stead.

  The only one that refused to state her choice was Chloe. No matter what was said to her, she refused.

  “But Chloe, we need you to make a choice. We never know what we will need. We can’t afford to give up a chance to help our survival. Please . . . you need to help us out here,” begged Dezi.

  Chloe shook her head, turning away as Dezi made a notation in his ledger. “I’m sorry, but this will be recorded unless you change your mind.”

  “Do what you need to do, Dezi.” Chloe walked away, her figure swaying slowly as she left the room, now heavy with child and overdue delivery.

  ***

  The day of departure arrived. The survivors stood grouped outside, clustered around a portal. Signs of animal dung and trampled grass reassured them that the animals had preceded them. Most of their new equipment had been already delivered to their destination by the Kreyven.

  Jose, Ginger Mae, and Peter huddled together, their health giving them something in common. Over the weeks they had bonded with Jose, a help to all three. Ginger Mae and Peter now sported full heads of hair, and complete body parts. Two more grateful people could not be found on Oolaha.

  The acceptance of who they were was coming more reluctantly. Hud and Bonnie leaned on each other through the slow and frustrating process. But they were patient. Time was on their side. The fact that Peter and Ginger Mae were alive and cancer-free was enough to ask for at the moment. They were grateful for the chance to woo their spouses back. They had held private conversation about the apparent closeness their spouses had developed while away but decided to table their feelings on the issue until they had a chance to sort it out with guidance from Netty and Wil. After they settled into their new planet. Kane and Cobby stood watching the Kreyven swallow its last load. Cobby gave it a friendly pat as it turned to disappear through the portal. They had a good hour to kill before it would return for them.

  “I’m sure going to miss the big beast. It made our life easier,” declared Cobby.

  Abby approached the father and son, slipping her arm through Cobby’s. “Are you guys ready for this?”

  Cobby gave her a wide smile and wrapped Kane into the hug he gave them both. “I’m the luckiest guy in all the galaxies. I have a baby on the way, my son who is my pride and joy, my baby that Karen and I adopted, my gorgeous daughter-in-law Kenya and my first grandchild. Did I forget to mention the love of my life is in my arms and I call her my wife?” he asked, looking deep into Abby’s shining, love-struck eyes. “We’ve been through so much. This is just another blip on our radar. I’m sure it will have its moments.” He paused and swallowed. “But we are strong. We’re resilient and healthy. And we are family.” He laughed. “Do we dare to ask for anything else?”

  Kenya joined them with the baby in her arms. “I’m ready. I don’t know what’s ahead but it can’t be worse than getting thrown off an entire planet.” She wore her indignation well, her shoulders high, her head proud.

  “That’s o
ur girl,” said Cobby.

  The rest of the survivors drifted closer, presenting a united front as Forbation approached, red staff in hand. He was alone.

  A feeling of grave disappointment shrouded the survivors as they prepared for departure. Chloe scanned the horizon . . . not a single minion or nooglet in sight. Even little Teddy gave a low whine as he squirmed in her arms. Caesar chuffed impatiently, unsettled himself by the lack of minions.

  Netty joined Chloe, one of the babies in her arms. She waved to Wil who had his hands full with Maya who was refusing to leave, her tear-streaked face and caterwauling upsetting the rest of the infants as they lay in their safety transport.

  “I don’t understand where everyone is,” said Netty.

  Chloe’s lips were in a straight line. “They will be here.”

  Forbation approached. “You are leaving without making a choice, Sister Chloe. That is a grave disappointment. We may not be able to co-exist with you but you are part of us. We wish you nothing but success.”

  “Thank you, Brother Forbation.” Chloe held her head high as the rest of the survivors drifted over. “But I fully intend to make my choice before I leave.”

  “Look,” yelled Dezi, pointing to the horizon. Within seconds the minions converged. Tens of hundreds filled the sky, blocking out the sun to light the dawn with their own glowing beauty.

  Touching down next to Forbation stood Echo and Baby, Ivey bringing up the rear. The minions stood reluctantly, their three fire butterflies’ glorious flaming sparks belying their wretched demeanors. From out of the portal emerged the Kreyven.

  “It is time,” pronounced Forbation.

  Chloe stepped forward and turned to Forbation. “I’m ready to make my choice. That is the last privilege granted to me by the Womb.” Forbation nodded. “I request the presence of the rest of my family.”

  Forbation’s aura slowed. “But everyone is here, Sister.” He swept his golden hand toward the crowd of survivors.