Rising Storm, page 5
Scott was shaking his head before Long Rivers had even finished. "No, No, you need to take a long view on this problem."
"I believe I am…" began Long Rivers when Scott made a face. His jaw had locked and his teeth were clenched, his face starting to darken in anger. Long Rivers gulped and the rest of his words died in his throat.
Marc Walters watched as Long Rivers and Educator Dry Sands on the Plain stiffened. He could feel the young woman's posture going ridged at Coot's growing anger. Only Wanda, sitting at the end of the dining table, didn't react to Coot's anger. She had spent more time with Humans and was far more used to their volatile nature. Seeing his friend's frustrations was getting the better of him and frightening the Souls in the room, Marc laid a hand on Coot's shoulder. He didn't say a word to Scott merely a shake of his head.
"Look," said Scott after he took a moment to calm down. "What you are saying is there will be two sets of laws. One for Humans and one for Souls. Please trust me, in our history it has never worked out well for a society when such a system is in place. No matter how much you try, it creates a divisive separation in society. Which leads to resentment or envy between the two groups and then right on to segregation. If we really want to have co-existence between Souls and Humans, everyone must be equal before a common set of laws."
Dry Sands spoke up. Her face had grown confused at Coot's little speech. "But Scott, your history is full of examples of those who could freely flaunt your laws when it suited them. How can we apply the same rules to our people if there will be some Humans who willfully ignore the law?"
Scott stared at her with a deepening frown. "Alright, you need to back that statement up and explain," he said after trying and failing to make sense of her comment.
Marc scrutinized Dry Sands. She still had the same skinny librarian look the first time Marc had met her, minus the horn-rimmed glasses he pictured all librarians wearing. Marc guessed Dry Sands' body was still pretty young, maybe only twenty years old, but he was pretty sure that Dry Sands the Soul was quite old. The Soul woman could be very shy, sometimes saying less than five words in one of their secret meetings. But he had learned when she did speak, she could be a fierce advocate for or against you. He had a feeling Scott was about to receive the latter.
Straightening in her chair, Dry Sands began. "Your justice system often allowed for the rich and powerful to secure better representation than your poor. Those with better legal defense would escape punishment for their crimes. Or in some cases the influent simply 'bought' the verdict they desired. How can you claim all were equal before the law when such abuses regularly occurred?"
Hoping to defuse the still tense atmosphere in the room, Marc let a small grin form on his face. Smiling at Dry Sands, he said, "Point for Dry Sands, got a solid rebuttal, Scott?" He was watching Scott and missed the blush which formed on the young woman's face.
"Ugh," groaned Scott. Shooting an irritated look at Marc he grumbled, "You're not helping." Turning back to Dry Sands, he attempted to defend his argument. "Yeah, I'll admit things like that happened, but it didn't occur all the time. Plenty of people, rich or poor, influential or not were given fair treatment in our justice system." Scott paused as a thought came to him. Solicitously he continued, "Just because our justice system wasn't perfect doesn't mean it doesn't work. You don't give up and drop it because mistakes are made. You just have to work harder at fixing the flaws."
After weeks of meetings between the band of Humans and the small group of rebel Souls, both sides were still struggling to reach common ground on how to achieve a lasting peace between the two races. Both sides had a multitude of problems to overcome before they would even be close to a workable solution. There was an obvious one, how to deal with the Seekers. The Souls tasked with hunting Humans and protecting their own kind were becoming increasingly paranoid and suspicious. But too often the Souls were troubled by the more mundane problems the Humans raised. Issues of humanity's rights, obligations, and opportunities in a shared world of Humans and Souls were causing the aliens no end of problems. It was becoming apparent to Marc and the other Humans that while the Souls were willing to entertain the idea of living side-by-side with Humans, they had no real idea how to. Always in their past they had completely assimilated a race they encountered. Occupying the bodies of an entire race was co-existing in their minds. To freely allow the host race to continue had been unthinkable to the aliens until they meet Humans.
"Perhaps," began Wanda as she straightened in her chair, "we should table this particular issue for later. We've made more progress in handling human representation in our Quorums."
"Sounds good to me," replied Marc. He paused as he felt his stomach rumble. A quick check at his watch told him it was approaching noon. He had other places to be and wanted to get moving. Glancing back to Wanda, he added, "How about we break for lunch and pick this up afterwards?"
"Yes!" replied Wanda enthusiastically. "We've all worked hard today, best to take a break." They were quick nods from around their table.
"Finally," said Scott with a tired sigh, "something we can all agree on."
There were nods from around the table and the previous tension in the room began to fade. Wanda got up from her chair and padded over to the adjoining room that contained their small kitchen. Marc reflected that Wanda was doing well in her new home. She had quickly adapted to his little family. He had been surprised when the visiting Soul had elected to stay in Chicago and work to find a lasting peace. It would be a dangerous to remain in the city full of Souls and his first impression of Wanda was she would be too fragile and weak to endure such difficulties. But Wanda had proved him very wrong, she had risen to the challenge and he found himself increasing relying on the little Soul to help guide their meetings.
Wanda gestured to Scott and Long Rivers to join her in the kitchen. The Human and the Soul exchanged wary glances but followed the little woman's request. Wanda put them to work while she pulled various items out of the refrigerator. Soon the three of them worked together to prepare sandwiches. Marc had to smile to himself, Wanda was working her magic. She was quite literally getting the two opponents to break bread.
Noting the time Marc realized he really needed to get going. He gathered his notebook and was beginning to rise when he noticed Dry Sands had moved her seat closer to his. She glanced at him and then at the doorway. Shyly she asked, "Marc, are you leaving?"
"Got sort of a working lunch meeting downstairs," replied Marc as he stood up.
"Oh," replied the Soul woman and then look down at the empty dining room table. She looked as though she wanted to say something but then thought better of it.
"Don't worry," said Marc with a smile as he exited the room. "I'll be back before we start."
Leaving the dining room slash conference room, Marc moved briskly down narrow hallway of the Hotel Rose. There he found Paul, Mike, and Ian working on pulling up the old threadbare carpet on the hotel's floor. Giving himself a bit of a running start Marc nimbly leaped over the working men. Ian gave a surprised shout and Mike shot him an irritated glare as he landed on the far side of the men. Not slowing down he called over his shoulder, "Ian, your girlfriend is making lunch, you guys should get in on that." Any annoyances with him vanished as the men dropped their work and headed off to find Wanda and the promise of food.
Marc had been spending a great deal of time meeting with the Souls and truthfully he had a great deal of other much more mundane issues to worry about than trying to figure out interstellar relations. As usual it came down to securing food and supplies for his little family of thirty humans. A family which was very close to getting another member. Turning down the another passageway, he took sight of Kate Gonzales coming out of Mike's and Sarah's room. With her came their daughter Alexis, the little girl making quite a fuss.
"Anomie," squealed Alexis.
"Common runt," grumbled Kate as she led the little girl into the hallway. "Give your mom some peace for fifteen minutes."
"Alexis, go on with Auntie Kate," came Sarah's tired voice from the room.
"We've got lunch brewing," said Marc as he came to a stop beside Kate and Alexis.
"Perfect," replied Kate with a tired sigh. She turned down to Alexis and managed to put in some genuine cheer into her voice. "Let's go get food, Alexis."
Before she had even finished the little girl was already running as fast as her little legs would allow her down the hallway announcing, "Lunch…Lunch…Lunch!"
Marc laughed but stopped himself when he saw the dark look on Kate's face. "She been impossible today," snapped Kate as she indicated the receding Alexis.
Resisting to further anger Kate, he turned from the glowering young woman and stuck his head into the small room. The aged hotel room would be undersized for one person and for a family of three soon expecting another it was bursting at the seams. Attempting to fit on the bed half filled with clothes lay an exhausted Sarah.
"How are you doing?" asked Marc.
Sarah's eyes were closed and both hands were gently rubbing temples. Without opening her eyes, she turned towards Marc's voice. "Ready for this kid to be born."
Marc's eyes landed on Sarah's very pregnant belly. "He's kicking again?"
"And then some, think he wants out as much as me," replied Sarah as she moved her hands from her head to her stomach. Running her hands over her swollen midsection, she said in a tender whisper, "Easy there little boy. Give your mom a few minutes peace."
"I could get Mike if you want," said Marc distractedly as he watched Kate run after the escaping Alexis.
"No," came back Sarah's sleepy reply. "This tired mother just needs some alone time."
"Not a problem," agreed Marc. He didn't want to interrupt Sarah further and nor did he want to be late. Speaking softly, he said, "Get some sleep Sarah, you're going to need it." The expectant mother gave him a drowsy half reply as she drifted off to sleep.
Turning from the room Marc continued on his way, needing to hurry or he would be late. He descended the stairs to the next floor two at a time. Despite everything, Marc realized he was truly in a good mood today. He knew it came from his upcoming meeting. Hopefully, she would be surprised…And happy. For she didn't always take his surprises well.
The 'she' being Bright Moon on Fallen Snow. He found the Seeker standing in the hallway of the second floor of the hotel. She was studying the newly replaced door to a nearby room and didn't see his approach. Marc quashed down a childish urge to startle her. Instead he cleared his throat to get her attention and spoke softly. "Not bad, huh?"
Bright Moon's body shifted smoothly as she turned to face him. She glanced around the hallway with its freshly painted walls and brand new carpeting. At seeing him standing in the hall, a small smile formed on her lips. Nodding she said, "Yes, it's very nice. Your people have done an excellent job restoring this floor."
"Thanks," replied Marc with a mild shrug of his shoulders. Hesitantly he added, "It's nice to see you, Bright Moon."
She nodded and replied a little stiffly, "I'm pleased to see you as well, Marc."
Their relationship wasn't the easiest, reflected Marc. Even when you looked past the difficulties of their two different spices, they had little time to meet each other and even less occasion when they could be alone. It was important to make such moments count. Joining her they walked comfortably down the hallway. As they went he gestured to the above floor. "We're already pulling up stakes upstairs and starting to tear it down."
Stopping and looking up the ceiling, Bright Moon asked, "And you will move to the fourth floor?"
"Yep," answered Marc with a bob of his head. "We'll close off the fifth floor as we open this one."
Bright Moon grew thoughtful. "So you keep a buffer between your people and everyone else. Repairing one floor and then moving higher. What happens when you run out of floors?"
"I'm hoping we've pulled together some type of a peace agreement between Souls and Humans before we run out of places to hide in the hotel," explained Marc.
Giving Marc a weak smile Bright Moon pulled a small memory card from her pocket on her black dress pants. "Hopefully this will be helpful in those efforts."
Marc took the card and held it in his hand. Carefully studying it and then Bright Moon he asked, "Did you have a problem getting it or smuggling it out of your headquarters?"
Bright Moon shook her head. "No, the data isn't something Seekers generally track. Few would think to look for Souls willingly helping or hiding Humans. Our records deal mostly with reported sightings, unaccounted missing supplies, or other unusual activities that could signal humans."
"Well, Wanda seems to think there are more Souls like her out there," said Marc. He waved the tiny memory card around and added. "If we can track them down and make contact we're in a better position to make our case to the rest of the Souls."
"I suppose," replied Bright Moon noncommittally as they walked along. Marc noted her distress, none of this was easy for Bright Moon. She knew better than anyone how difficult it would be to convince her fellow Seekers to allow even a small number Humans to live. Her willingness to help his people put her in a very stressful position. Maintaining her job while feeding the rebels information had her lying and deceiving Souls on a daily basis. Regardless of what others thought, Marc knew Bright Moon did not enjoy lying. He hoped his little surprise might help her relax.
Coming to a stop at a closed door, Marc couldn't help but grin at Bright Moon. She frowned slightly, looking at him and then to the closed door. A little suspiciously she asked, "Marc, what are you doing?"
Putting his best 'I'm innocent' face on, Marc briskly turned the doorknob and swung open the closed door. With over-dramatic fanfare to the contents in the room, he bowed to her and announced, "Ta-dad!"
Bright Moon's eyes widened in surprise as she took in the contents of the room. The room was small like all the other accommodations in the hotel. Most of the space taken up by two twin beds. But on the bed nearest the door lay an elaborate display of dishes, plates, and silverware. Steam climbed up from the bowls full of baked chicken, mash potatoes, and sautéed vegetables. Nearby sat a glass pitcher full of chilled water, condensation running down it length.
Taking this all in Bright Moon turned back to Marc, her mouth still agape in surprise. She blinked and then closed her mouth. "For me?" she asked in a small voice.
"Well, if you're famished you can have it all," replied Marc with a smile. "But I was hoping we could share it."
For a moment a beautiful smile broke on Bright Moon's face. Delight danced in her silver-rimmed eyes as she gazed at Marc and then back to his surprise meal. Then her smile fell as wave of misery passed over her face. Looking dejectedly down at the ground, she said quietly, "I can't stay."
Marc's own smile retreated and he asked with growing confusion, "Why not?"
"I was followed…" began Bright Moon.
Marc immediately tensed at her words. His voice going tight with alarm he shot back with almost a shout, "What!? Where are they?"
"No…No, not here," said Bright Moon in a rush. She brought her hands up and lightly touched Marc on his chest, trying to calm him. "The Seekers followed me as far as my apartment. They believe I'm still there eating my lunch." Managing a small smile as she added, "I gave them what you would call, 'the slip.'"
Still worried Marc fought down his earlier rising panic. "Why are you being followed? Do they suspect you or Nigel of aiding us?"
Bright Moon sat down at the edge of the bed with a weary sigh. "I'm being followed for my own protection," she explained. "Seekers around the world are now being routinely monitored when not working. Partly this comes from efforts to track down any counterfeit Seekers in the organization. But also there are fears that we could be captured and forcefully 'recruited' for the Facility. They don't know exactly how the Human host is recovered, so any deviant behavior is to be reported at once."
Marc joined her on the edge of the bed. His fading fears for his people's safety was quickly being replaced with concern for the Soul Bright Moon on Fallen Snow. "I didn't know it was that bad…"
Her eyes going distant, Bright Moon spoke softly but there was an edge to her words. "It's not well known to the general public, but the Facility infiltration was much more pronounced and elaborate than anyone would have guessed. Multiple Seekers from many cities have gone missing in the last few weeks. Apparently Agent Taylor was only one of many."
"I'm sorry," replied Marc automatically as he remembered the hate filled Agent Taylor who masquerading as Seeker Simple Sunlight had gleefully slaughtered her Seeker colleagues.
Bright Moon could only give him a sad smile. It would be easy for her to blame all humans for the activities of the mysterious Facility. But she realized how varied humanity could be and realized that Marc's people were blameless in these events. Not quite sure what to say Marc also looked down at the carpeted floor. The food behind them forgotten, their silence stretched on as they both sat gloomily at the end of the bed.
"I should apologize to you," spoke up Bright Moon. She turned to the still hot plates of food and inhaled the lovely mixed aromas of the cooked food. "You made me this meal," said Bright Moon as a bashful expression began on her face.
"I would never inflict my atrocious cooking skills on my worst enemy," proclaimed Marc. When she became puzzled he explained, "Dell cooked the meal."
"He did?" remarked Bright Moon in amazement. "He would do this for me?"
"Well…" started Marc as he considered his answer. He held up his hand and brought his thumb and index finger nearly together. "Might have been a little arm twisting on my part."
Bright Moon fidgeted on the bed, looking unsure of herself. "Marc, I don't want to cause…friction between you and your friend." Folding her hands in her lap, she continued, "I know most of your people don't care for me…"
"Hey," said Marc firmly as he cut her off. "Don't worry about me and Dell. Also anyone here who has a problem with you has a problem with me." Bright Moon remained sitting, staring at her hands with an unreadable expression on her face. Marc regarded her and then did the only thing he could think of doing. He reached out for her, his arm slipping around her waist. She was so lost in her thoughts she barely noticed. But then with a firm tug he pulled her to him and she let out a breathy gasp of astonishment.
