Alien Terrain (13 page)

Day became night. The nothing all around her didn’t change.
When she had to, she got up—used the bathroom, poured some juice into a glass.
Eventually she recognized that she could go. No one was looking for her. No one
cared. She should move on. When morning came again, she’d get up, pack the
things she had. Dump the perishables, turn the water off, and drive away.

Morning came. She stayed. Jane sat and stared at nothing for
another day, barely noticing when darkness filled the space around her. When
thoughts came, the images were crystal clear, despite the lack of light. She
saw Raj, framed against the sky. He’d been shirtless. In the silk pants she’d
mended, his black hair loose around his face, and in his eyes the cold,
remorseless calm of someone who’d been born to kill. Not love.

And Rick was dead because of her.
Which
meant he’d never see another car.
No more beer and dickish jokes. No
more looking for a way to be important in the insignificance of their small
world. No more anything. Not for him. Not for Joe, Seth, Rudy. Had they all
been there? The carnage in the driveway was appalling, but when she’d wanted to
go into the garage, he’d made a point of stopping her.
The
man who was permissive.
Always insisting she
do
what she wanted to do. He’d stopped her.
Blocked her way.
What had he done in there? How awful had it been?

In her mind she made herself walk past him into that garage.
She saw the black stains on the gray cement and then the gruesome scene. Bloody
bodies partially dismembered. Stabbed and beaten. Was that how it had been?

She could find out. Jane fumbled with the bedside lamp until
the weak bulb cast a yellow light over the room. All she had to do was walk out
of the house and cross the lawn over to Rick’s car. The messager would have a
news feed she could read. The infostations would have picked this gruesome
story up by now. They’d know. Someone would have missed somebody. Joe’s sister.
Rudy’s mom.
Hopefully whatever woman it had been would
not have come alone to check on them. She hoped not, for their sake. In any
case, the bodies would be found. What passed for law enforcement since the
opting out of ’54 would have converged by now to make up their self-serving
story.

They’d say it was aliens, and this time they’d be right.
Jane stared into the kitchen, thought of making tea or scaring up the whiskey
she’d brought with her.
Something to steady herself.

She didn’t want to walk out in the dark. She also didn’t
want to read about the murders. Or see pictures.
God.
There would be lots of pictures. Pictures were a good way to incite.

Things would be worse now. Maybe Earth First had already
taken action to retaliate. They could be at the Body House right now.
Killing everyone inside.

That thought had Jane on her feet.
Moving.
But not for whiskey.
Not for tea. She navigated
through the kitchen and switched the porch light by the door that led out back.
Nothing happened. A faulty wire or the bulb was dead. She thought about a
flashlight and knew she wasn’t going out there.
In the
morning.
What good would it do for her to know tonight? What could she
do to fix this now? The Body House would have security.
Lots
of it.
She knew they would.

Sitting at the kitchen table made silvery by moonlight, Jane
let herself see Raj for just a moment. She let herself feel his skin on hers,
how he’d touched her, how he’d stroked and kissed her.
Tireless.
The constant interest in his eyes, the whispered words.

Be well. Be safe
.
She could say that. She could think and feel it too. No matter what he’d done
or what he was, she loved him.

Jane pressed the sleeves of her robe to her face and made herself
stop crying.

She’d married a man she didn’t love.
Left
him lying bloodless in the dirt.
She’d turned her back on one she
did—sent to have him hauled away like so much garbage. It made her sick to
think of what she’d done.

The worst part was that she’d been trying to do right.
All her life.
To be good, helpful, honest,
kind.
And despite that she got everything completely wrong. And she was
all alone.

* * * *

Abstaining from sex was really very easy. It didn’t hurt
that much at all. In fact, it didn’t feel like much of anything except the
oddness of a missing habit.

For the first day, Raj went on as usual.
Sleeping,
bathing, observing devotions, sharing meals and conversation with the rest of
the community.
He felt almost good for a time.
Light
and sharp.
Hyperaware.
On the second day the
lightness he’d been feeling turned to weakness, and he stayed inside his room.
He sat reading a volume of Earth classics he’d been given, until even that was
too much for him.

By the third day, he did not get out of bed.

Still there was no pain. Not even what he could call
craving. Not for sex at any rate. He did crave Jane, of course. But even that
constant longing for her wasn’t pain. It was only love.

Eventually visitors plagued him. Hushed intrusions into what
increasingly became an altered state. His fellow Bods came in with water,
broth, and juice. He took all three. It didn’t make much difference.

When he awoke on the fourth day, he felt a woman’s presence
on his bed. Raj could feel her reaching for him with her body and her soul.
Eyes closed, he knew she was beautiful and sweet, but she was not the woman
that he needed.

“Is this suicide?” asked Solange Clay. Her smooth palm
traveled from his forehead to his cheek.

Raj let an easy smile be his answer. Not suicide but life
reaching its natural conclusion. He was in love. His lover wasn’t here. This
was how it went.
As natural as a long, gentle fall off a high
cliff.

Or maybe it was suicide. Raj supposed someone from Earth
might call it that. His brothers at the Body House knew better. Not one of them
ever suggested he might change his course. They were all too fascinated by the
fact that he’d been drawn into a couple after all his years of dedicated
service. If it could happen to a temple lover, no man was immune. No doubt
they’d woven his fate into quite a story. An even better one if it finally
killed him. Let them tell it through the centuries. He didn’t care what anyone
might think.

“Sleep with me.” Solange still had her palm pressed to his
cheek. “Amin will play too.” Raj nodded at the large shape sitting in his chair
beside the door. No doubt Amin Clay would join them in involved debauchery if
she asked him to. It was interesting how he managed to indulge his wife and
rule the world at the same time.

“Just a quick and dirty fuck to keep your strength up,”
suggested Solange. “Then you’ll go and get this woman if you want her. Did you
even try?”

“This isn’t about what I want,” Raj said.

Solange turned to her husband with a sigh. She stood and
fumbled with her skirt. They’d all been lovers once before, a memorable evening
that had blossomed into friendship and respect. He smiled weakly as she
doggedly went through with the unveiling of her body.

Raj turned to Amin, whose constant gaze was locked on his
wife. “Would you fuck your way better if Solange left you?” Raj asked.

“Doubtful,” came the answer, and they all heard that he
meant “never in a million years.”

Solange spun toward her husband. “You’d just lie in bed and
die? What good is that to anyone?” She turned her rising temper back to Raj.
“Why don’t you get off your ass and go and get her? What is this wasting-away
nonsense? Are you some sixteen-year-old girl? If you can get up, then get up.
If you can’t get up, then have sex with me until you can. Amin will help, just
like before. He is your boss here, don’t forget.”

“You’re very kind.”

“Fuck being kind. I’m in the mood for cock, and yours was
very nice as I recall. Do you remember how it was between us? Or is it all gone
in your swoon of love?”

“Solange.”
Raj sighed and looked at
her with unmasked patience. “No one who’s had you has ever forgotten you.” She
sat back down beside him. Her skirt was gone. He saw her stockings had pink
bows stitched over the elastic at the top. The flesh stirred something in him.
She’d been a tantalizing partner and a warm soul. And now here she was trying
to save him, just as Jane had done. He lifted to his elbows and scooted higher
on the bed.

“She saved my life, Solange. My life is hers. We are united
as a couple. In all such cases, this is what occurs.
When
lovers are abandoned on my planet, that’s the end.
There isn’t any
coming back. I promise you it’s not something I’ve made up to annoy you. Ask
any Bod. They’ll tell you.”

Solange stared at him, eyes grave. “Fight,” she said. “Do what
you have to do so you can go and get her. You love her, so you stay alive.”

Raj lay back in bed. “Amin,” he said. The man stood up and
came to stand behind his wife. He stooped to pick her skirt up and grabbed her
by the elbow. “Come,” he said.

“I’m not letting him die.” There was a swell of mourning
underneath the stubbornness. Solange was sweet. Her body had been sweet as
well.

Raj grabbed her hand and kissed it. “This isn’t death,” he
said. “It’s how my life with her has ended.”

“Stop it,” she warned. “That temple schmemple shit is on my
nerves.” She pushed her husband with one hand and grabbed Raj with the other.

“They found that trail of bodies you left for them. Has
anyone else told you that? You killed eight fucking people. You do realize that,
don’t you? In your opinion, what might happen to Jane now? They’ve been blaming
aliens for everything from fleas to famine for the last two years, but this
time they have proof. They have their fallen heroes to draw people to their
cause. Earth Firsters were all mad before, but now they’re positively foaming.
What makes you think Jane’s safe? Or don’t you care? You strolled away and left
her in the middle of that wasteland all alone. They found her once. What if
someone decides to look for her again?”

Raj was struggling to sit up. He got his feet over the side
of the bed and worked to draw the energy to stand. But it was too late; he was
too far gone and he had been a fool. He’d given her his absence because that
was what she’d asked for and the greatest sacrifice that he could give. Never
once had he considered that she needed him. But his actions had exposed her to
reactions, and he’d left her unprotected. Solange was right, as Jane had been.
He was a monster.

“Amin.”
The man owed him nothing;
still he asked because it was his only hope. “Find her. Save her. Bring her to
me. Please.”

* * * *

Jane knew that there was trouble before her eyes were open.
Awareness of danger took the form of tires. Not the lone car making its slow
way south, but cars—three or more. Jane never even questioned who they’d come
for. She pulled herself from sleep and out of bed. She shuffled through the
kitchen to the bathroom just like any other morning. No pounding heartbeat. No
alarm. Jane ran the water, splashed her face, and wet her toothbrush.

She fancied she could hear them hovering outside. Perhaps
they even thought that they were being quiet, that they’d take her unawares.
Her hair was combed, and she was dressed in minutes, staring at the door.

The knock, when it came, was no more than a genteel
tap tap
. Not law enforcement then. Nor
could it be the wives and mothers of the dead mechanics here for Outland
vengeance. That would be grim.

Inching through the shadows to the far side of the door, she
pulled the curtain back and took a cautious look.

It was the news. Good God.

She walked through the hallway thinking of how awful people
looked on infoscreens.
Pasty and disoriented.
Upset.
Turned around.
She felt nothing, so she held some hope she’d
be too dull to make interesting airplay.

The second knock she was expecting never came. Instead she
heard more crunching gravel, heavy tires skidding to a stop. There were
receding footsteps. Whoever had been hovering outside had been diverted from
her scent. Jane grabbed the doorknob and pulled at the door.

Eye on the Outlands
was written on the side of a white van. Beside that was a black sedan. She saw
a tiny woman in what looked like a flak jacket surrounded by men holding
various equipment. All of them had turned their backs to look at those who’d
just arrived. Sunlight glinted off the polished silver; still Jane recognized
the car.

Her heart was pounding hard enough to send a blinding rush
of blood behind her eyes that made her fumble for something to hold on to.

Could it really be Raj? She strained to see around the
barrier of uninvited guests. The suited men emerged in similar formation, the
same woman, the same man. She waited. That was all.

The man stared grimly at the black swarm of the news crews,
motioning his feminine companion back into the car. She stepped behind him
slightly.
Otherwise unheeding.
He set his jaw and
pulled her in to him, moving
them
both quickly forward
directly toward Jane. With a slight flash the cameras started rolling and it
all began.

“Amin!”
They repeated the uncivil
shout. The quarry gave no visible notice. “Is it true you’re investigating the
garage murders yourself?” said the flak-jacketed woman. “Do you believe Jane
Bard’s involved?” Amin Clay brushed by her. It was like she wasn’t there. She
yelled something about the new alien menace, but even Jane wasn’t listening
now. She was staring at the woman. Asking with her eyes where Raj was, what had
happened. The answer came in the same wide-eyed code. It set Jane into violent
motion, pushing through the news crews, down the stairs, and through the weedy
grass until she’d reached the car.