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First Contact - Chapter 314
ONE WEEK AFTER CASE OMAHA
The day was a slow day. The sky was overcast, the threat of rain in the air but the clouds never letting loose with the promise, the sun hidden behind the heavy gray clouds. The day was chilly, not enough to warrant a jacket but too cold for a light shirt. The wind was right at the point where it sipped away at the body heat but went largely unnoticed.
The spaceport was largely quiet, only a few ships landing each hour, the majority of them were cargo transports. One landed, dropping off a single passenger, then lifting off once she was off the ship.
Truxal looked up as the Terran female walked down the boarding tube and into the concourse. He checked his computer display to make sure everything was booted up, then made sure the screens she would walk between were turned on.
It had been about a week since the last passenger, not a military transport, but a civilian transport had landed and he hadn't been on shift when that happened.
The woman went slow between the plates, raising up her arms when she did so.
Truxal stared at the display that was tilted so only he could see it. Massive cybernetics. From neural cyberware, down her spine, down her limbs, machinery embedded in her torso, two induction pads, one on each palm, and much more.
A lot of them flashed as "MIL-SPEC GRADE" and his system didn't throw out the specifications or purpose of the implants. The board suddenly fuzzed and read SECURITY LOCKOUT on the data.
When she stepped out he frowned slightly. She was tall, slender, had dark onyx skin, dark eyes with purple eyeshadow, severe features even for a Terran, tightly curled black hair in a flat top that he was pretty sure could be measured with a laser, and dressed in a black suit that looked, well, masculine to Truxal's eyes.
"Identification," Truxal said.
He thought it was weird that his equipment would identify the person when they walked down the boarding tube but he was still required to ask all Terrans for their identification.
The woman held up her hand, two fingers and thumb straight out, then slowly reached into her suit. She removed a flat thin leather wallet, dyed black, and set it slowly on the counter. She used one fingernail to flip it open.
TERRAN CONFEDERACY OF ALIGNED SYSTEMS IDENTIFICATION
MS. SMITH, JOANNE
The female's biometrics were below, as well as a 2.5D picture of her.
She reached out with her forefinger and touched the square beside her picture. The ID's edge flashed green and the bar code appeared.
Truxal scanned it and it verified that the Terran female in front of him matched the ID.
"Reason for visit?" Truxal asked, hitting the record stud.
"Business," the Terran female answered.
"Length of stay?"
"Indeterminate," she said.
APPROVED flashed up.
"Anything to declare?" Truxal asked.
"No," she said.
"Thank you. If you have any questions your datalink can provide any information you need on channel 112.2," Truxal said.
"Have a good day," the woman smiled, showing a startling amount of teeth behind her purple lipstick.
"You too," Truxal said.
He watched the Terran female leave and frowned slightly. He'd never seen a Terran who wasn't a soldier of some type and he wondered what exactly she was here for. After a moment he shrugged and went back to watching the movie he had gotten interested in before the ship landed.
Outside the Terran woman paused, looking up at the sky. She shook her head, smiling that bright toothy smile, and then looked around for a rental service. Spotting a taxi she moved over to it, stopping and tapping on the window with one long finger.
Pelvax looked up from the dataslate he was reading and jumped slightly. He'd seen Terrans, mostly when he had been in the refugee camps and then the shelters during the war, but he never had seen a Terran with skin that dark. She smiled and he avoided flinching, startled at how the smile was predatory but at the same time seemed to make her more visually appealing.
Blinking, he rolled down the window.
"Are you available?" the Terran asked.
"Um, yes," Pelvax said and unlocked the back door. "Do you have luggage?"
The Terran shook her head. "No." She got in and closed the door, still smiling.
Pelvax realized it was supposed to be comforting and friendly.
"Can you take me to someplace that provides air transportation? Civilian flights, please," she said. Her voice was pleasant, and Pelvax nodded. He tapped the GPS for a minute and got a flight company.
He put the car in gear and slowly pulled into traffic, heading toward the lifter field.
His passenger just smiled, looking around her at the city. He expected comments on how well the city had been rebuilt after the war, especially seeing that the Precursors had used heavy atomic weaponry on the city.
Instead she just sat in the back seat, looking around her, her hands on her knees, her back straight.
At the lifter field she payed Pelvax and got out. Pelvax shook his head, noticing she'd tipped him well, and drove off.
The Terran female looked around, taking in the field, looking at the various lifters. All of them used anti-grav systems or graviton systems for VTOL effect, all of them were painted in bright eye catching colors.
After a moment she headed into the office, stopping in front of the counter.
Senmat stared at the human. She, he was pretty sure it was she despite the masculine dress that reminded him of a uniform more than anything else, smiled at him, showing a lot of bright white teeth.
"May I help you?" Senmat asked.
"I need to hire a grav-lifter and a pilot, with room for multiple passengers and maybe cargo," the female Terran said. Senmat noticed her voice was gentle and melodious.
"When?" Senmat asked.
"As soon as possible," the female Terran said.
Senmat checked the computer. There were four pilots available. One had an annotation that she would pilot for human groups, especially tourist groups. She was available, so he pinged her.
"I have an opening right now," Senmat said.
"Excellent," the female Terran said. She set down a small rectangular plas card. "Charge the expenses to this, please," she held up one finger and deliberately made a show of pressing her finger on the corner of the card. A 2.5D picture of her showed up on the card, which simply read "CONFEDERATE BANK" on it and a string of numbers.
Senmat looked at the card, the tapped the embedded molycirc against the payment reader.
It cleared immediately.
Halna'atik came in, wiping her hands from where she had just finished inspecting the port graviton engine on her lifter.
"What do you want, Senmat?" she asked.
"Got a customer for you," Senmat told her.
Halna'atik looked at the Terran, twitching her whiskers. She'd ferried around Terrans who wanted to see the sights, since a lot of Terran families had joined their military family members on Telkan since the wars.
Something just seemed strange.
"Can you take me to these coordinates?" the Terran asked, holding up her left hand, palm up, and letting a set of GPS coordinates appear in mid-air.
Halna'atik looked at the coordinates, pulling out her datapad. She punched them in and watched as the datapad focused on the area.
The Elven Queens had only cleared that area as a safe zone three months ago then immediately changed it to Amber for "Authorized People Only" within minutes.
"I'm sorry, uh," Halna'atik paused.
"Miz Smith," the Terran said. She reached out and tapped the pad.
UPDATING appeared and flashed several times. AUTHORIZED then appeared.
"Uh, sure," Halna'atik. "It's dangerous, so I'll be charging my risk rates."
"Your terms are acceptable," the Terran woman said.
Halna'atik thought the bright purple lipstick and eyeshadow looked weird with such black skin and white teeth, but she twitched her whiskers in acceptance. If the Terran was willing to pay the fee, then she'd take her out there.
"The flight will take at least three hours out there," Halna'atik warned.
"I am prepared," the Terran woman said.
"Then follow me," Halna'atik said. She waved at the Terran to follow her, leading her out to where Whiny Baby was sitting. She noticed the human was very precise in her movements. It nagged at her, she'd seen people move like that before, seen Terrans move like that before, but couldn't place it. She opened the passenger door, handed the Terran a padded set of earphones, then shut the door before walking around and climbing in.
Her grav-lifter powered up and the graviton engines started whining. They were salvage from Lanaktallan hovertrucks and a crashed Terran combat striker.
The woman gave a chuckle. "I understand the name," she said, her voice soft but picked up perfectly by the headset. "Running slightly out of spec for a smoother ride. Clever."
"Thank you," Halna'atik said. "I learned how to work on graviton engines during the wars."
"Hmm," the Terran said, nodding.
The whole ride Halna'atik kept an eye on the weather outside the grav-lifter as well as the weather warning LED strip.
It didn't rain, just sat on the edge.
"Set down at the edge of the amber area," the Terran said as Halna'atik slowed down. "I'll walk inside. I would prefer you remain waiting."
"For how long?" Halna'atik asked.
"If I am not back by nightfall, I will not return. You may leave and report me as overdue," the Terran woman said as the grav-lifter set down. She opened the door and got out, then took the time to tug at her cuffs. "Stay within your vehicle, for your own safety."
Halna'atik swallowed and nodded. She shut down the lifter, not wanting to put more hours on the parts. She looked at the forest outside and nodded again.
It was dark, shadowed, and seemed almost angry.
She watched the Terran female walk into the forest, again her movements seeming to be careful and deliberate. She leaned back and pulled her dataslate out of her pocket, extending it out side to side and up and down, then bringing up her favorite match-game while keeping her vehicle's vitals on the upper right. She made sure to bring up her external microphones so she could listen to around her lifter.
The forest was close, heavily overgrown, and felt like it was centuries old. While it wasn't raining, water dripping. Halna'atik could hear animals moving around, rustling the undergrowth, jumping from branch to branch.
It was nearly two hours later when the Terran female stepped out of the forest, walking slowly up to the grav-lifter. She opened the side, brushed off her forearms as if they had lint or dirt on the black cloth of the masculine appearing suit, then climbed in.
"I will need to return here tomorrow," the Terran female said. "I would prefer that you bring me. Taking a different lifter and lifter pilot out here may disturb what I am attempting to do."
Halna'atik frowned. "What are you doing, if I might ask?"
"You may not," the Terran female said, her voice suddenly heavy with authority.
"Oh," Halna'atik felt a cold chill go down her spin and curled her short tail protectively.
The ride back was silent. The Terran female hired a driver to take her to a hotel, where she paid with the unmarked card, went to her room, and did not exit until just before dawn.
Four more times the Terran female, looking as perfect and unruffled as ever each time, hired Halna'atik to take her out to the same spot each time. Each time she was gone for several hours and returned just before sunset.
By the fifth time Halna'atik was waiting in her grav-lifter.
Each time was the same. Arrive, wait, return.
Out of curiosity Halna'atik looked the region up.
Some of the fiercest fighting of both First and Second Telkan had happened out there. Most of it was behind Telkan governmental security locks.
It was one of the first places on the continent that the Elven Queens had started work on.
On the fifteen day, Halna'atik was shocked when there was a tapping on her side window. She whipped her head around from her datapad to the window.
The Terran woman, Ms. Smith, stood there, her face serious. Halna'atik slid the window to the side.
"Are you armed?" Ms. Smith asked.
"No, why?" Halna'atik asked.
"I must ask again, Pilot, are you armed?" the Terran female asked.
"No. What is going on?" Halna'atik asked.
"I must ask a third time, so that my duty is done. Are you armed?" the Terran asked.
"No!" Halna'atik said. She stopped herself from yelling. "Should I be?"
"No. I need you to gather about you your professionalism and detachment. You will be flying a passenger and myself to Fort Menvax," the Terran said.
"Passenger?" Halna'atik asked.
"Yes. I found him and convinced him to come with me. Please, do not speak to him unless he speaks to you. Keep your voice calm. He is very easily startled," the Terran female said.
"All right. I'll unlock the side door for the passenger compartment," Halna'atik said.
"Very good. I thank you," the Terran said. "Please get ready for flight."
Starting up the grav-lifter, Halna'atik watched as the Terran female went back up to the forest, standing in front of some brush and ferns. To Halna'atik it looked like she was talking to someone further back in the woods.
She gasped when the forest suddenly moved and then dissolved into a large, heavily muscled Terran in tattered rags.
The Terran female reached out and took the figure's hand. Halna'atik realized that part of the Terran male's face was torn away, revealing a black metal skull. The other hand was exposed cybernetics, the cybernetics in the torso were exposed. The Terran had moss growing here and there on his flesh.
She could actually see the artificial organs and the tubes and cables.
The Terran female walked him slowly up to Halna'atik's grav-lifter. The male flinched away from it and Halna'atik saw an expression on the Terran male's face that she had never seen on a Terran's face before.
The Terran female lifted up their clasped together hands, talking too soft for Halna'atik to hear. After a moment she helped him up into the passenger compartment.
Halna'atik noticed that the flesh on his back was completely missing, exposing black metal ribs and pieces of machinery.
Halna'atik flew them back, heading for the Joint Services Military Base.
There was a clink over her headset.
"Please request permission to enter the airspace and to land at the Netile'ek Military Medical Center," the Terran woman said softly. "Your vehicle system identification number is already logged."
"Yes, ma'am," Halna'atik said.
It felt like a 'ma'am' moment.
Permission was granted. As Halna'atik brought in the grav-lighter down on the big helipad she noted that there was a full medical team standing by.
"Please stay in the vehicle and await my return," the Terran female said as the grav-lifter landed.
"Yes, ma'am," Halna'atik said.
Halna'atik watched as the male Terran got out, holding tight to the female's hand. He flinched back from the medical team when they began to approach. She held on to his hand, patting him, rubbing the little bit of flesh that remained over his shoulder blades, and Halna'atik could tell she was speaking to him in soothing tones.
After a long moment the male allowed himself to be helped up onto a gurney.
The doctors surrounded him and they wheeled him into the hospital.
The female Terran stood there for a long moment, then turned back to Halna'atik, slowly moving over and getting in.
"I would prefer to go back to my lodging," the female Terran said.
Halna'atik noticed the crisp authoritative tone sounded more tired.
"Yes, ma'am," Halna'atik said.
The female Terran leaned back and closed her eyes as Halna'atik lifted off, following the air traffic control directions till she left the airspace of the military base. She looked over as they flew through the darkness and noticed that the eye shadow around the female Terran's eyes glowed softly in the dark.
"I will drop you off at the hotel," Halna'atik half-offered.
"That would be appreciated," the Terran female said.
"Are you all right?" Halna'atik asked carefully.
"I am very tired. It has been a stressful two weeks. I was worried, at the end," the Terran female said.
"Worried?" Halna'atik asked. "He looked like he was barely able to move."
The Terran woman chuckled. "Looks are deceiving. He is in great pain."
"Oh," Halna'atik said. They flew silently for a little while.
"I will need to retain your services again," the Terran woman said, without opening her eyes.
"Very well," Halna'atik said. "For how long?"
"I have sixteen more names on my list, sixteen places to search, on this part of the continent alone," she said.
She sounded exhausted.
"Are they dangerous?" Halna'atik asked after a long moment of silence.
"Yes. To themselves more than anyone else," the Terran female said. "They are often confused, always in pain, and many times, reliving the same event over and over."
"Who are they?" Halna'atik asked.
"The living dead," the Terran female said.
Halna'atik's hand bobbled on the stick.
"It is my duty to find them. To mark them for recovery if they are asleep, to convince them to come back, to let go of the moment of their deaths, if they are awake. My father, Charon, has sent me to collect them," the Terran female said softly. She turned and looked at Halna'atik. "We are sisters now, you and I."
The Terran closed her eyes and was silent the rest of the trip. When Halna'atik landed the Terran female got out, turning to close the door.
"Ma'am," Halna'atik said.
The Terran paused.
"I'll meet you here an hour before dawn," the Telkan said.
The Terran nodded.
"Rest well, sister," Halna'atik said softly, seeing if the human's words had really carried the weight they had.
"You as well, sister," the Terran said, and closed the door.
Sixteen more, Halna'atik thought to herself as she lifted off. Sixteen more just in this area.
She landed her lifter and got out slowly.
She took the time to sweep the moss, leaves, fern fronds, and the dirt from the passenger compartment of her grav-lifter.
The morning was dark, clouds heavy in the sky in the pre-dawn darkness, the threat of rain hanging over the world.
The grav-lifter set down in the parking lot of the modest hotel only a few miles from the airfield.
The female Terran stood, her suit immaculate, her eye shadow glowing softly in the darkness. Once the grav-lifter set down, she got inside.
"Good morning, sister," Halna'atik said.
"To duty, sister," the female Terran said. She touched the datapad. "Here is the coordinates."
The grav-lifter rose into the air and vanished into the darkness.
Citizenship is a heavy burden.
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Realities of a Woman's Life on the Road
People have tried to kidnap me. Multiple times. I went into a Walmart around 6 PM once, and came back out very quickly. I saw someone go hide behind my RV in the very back corner of the lot. He wasn't expecting me back so soon, and we made eye contact. Trust that gut feeling you get when you know something isn't right. I carried a weapon in my hand and went back into the McDonald's in the store... got a cup of coffee and sat for hours until my friend came back. I'm glad I had big dogs in the RV, or it definitely would have been compromised.
Every time you go into a rest area, it's a risk. Fuck the rules - I ALWAYS take a dog with me if it's getting toward the evening. I always have my weapon ready to be drawn as I walk out the door. Check every angle, especially your typical blind spots. I have come out and immediately checked around the corner to find someone sitting in wait for me. They hesitated and I got away safely because I had a weapon out, a dog that wasn't friendly, and was expecting them. They were caught off-guard, not me. You're not being paranoid. This shit happens and you have to be prepared.
I have had someone break into my RV. We weren't trying to be stupid. Sometimes you're stuck between a rock and a hard place. We were briefly meeting with someone about a work trade as a last resort option in a difficult time and couldn't watch the vehicle, but that's all it took. We lost essentials. You'd think they would have stolen the instruments, but they took toilet paper, blankets, a power bank, spare change, our first aid, etc... all the things that fucked us the most. Possessions can be replaced though. When I first got back to the RV, I should have trusted my dogs. Every single one of them loaded in and then immediately turned tail and leaped back out. It took coaxing to get them inside. They smelled that something wasn't right. What if someone had been lying in wait? We found a window left cracked open just a hair, enough so that someone could easily have come in later while we were sleeping. They had opened the roof hatches too, like they had been in there a while, just waiting, and it had been too hot. Had we come back sooner, we might have been in an even worse position. Do not assume your home is automatically a safe space. Any time you enter after having left, keep a lookout for what could be wrong. If you have that sinking bad feeling, leave.
Camping on the west coast versus the east coast is a different game. The east can be sketchy, but I've had my worst experiences in the west. I swear, it's just a way of life for some people out there. All the constant scouting by junkies and tweakers at anywhere free to sleep is bad, and you're not getting much sympathy from anyone as far as help goes. Be skeptical if a 'nice guy' wants to set you up into a better situation. There's more organized grooming and crime than you can even anticipate. What might be a good situation for your buddy who is a dude could quickly turn dangerous for you, a woman. Bros often don't know how creepy their friends are, either.
You will likely be sexually harassed at work. Less so at the yuppie jobs, but if you're working on farms or general labor, be prepared. Of course, I have gotten the typical treatment of expecting the women to not be able to do hard work and assigning us to cook, do laundry, and clean the toilets. I've had credit for my hard work given to men who didn't lift a finger. But I have also had employers drug girls that I worked with to sleep with them. They'd even specifically hire attractive girls just to have a chance at them. People in power positions think they can get away with whatever they want in terms of mistreating vagrant women. Speaking up will lose you your job. How much is the money worth though?
It's hard to find company with men. Maybe my perspective is a bit warped because I'm homoromantic. Most guys I have traveled with know that I am only interested in women, since that's an important conversation to have. Most also don't care. Close friends have made moves on me and felt me up, expecting me to change for them. I don't want to be one of those girls that can't have platonic friends of the opposite gender. It's not easy though. You may be hurt by the way people close to you treat you.
I don't dress in a feminine way. I wear jeans or tactical-type clothing, green or brown, usually. I play down my appearance. It doesn't stop people from trying to make moves, but perhaps it helps some.
Being homeless as a women is inherently more dangerous in obvious ways, too. I managed to hitchhike across the country in a few days with little to no wait time between rides. I had a trucker try to keep me in his hotel room at the end of the day, luring me with a ride further the next day. He insisted my dog stay in his truck. I noped the fuck out of that. Nothing like listening to a married man go on about his children all day to really work up the libido. One guy gave me a ride before I even got to the on-ramp to stick up my thumb. That one was strange. He tried to be respectful in a religious way, but clearly wanted me to marry him and have his babies. Decided to try Craigslist rideshare for a leg of the journey. I could have ridden free if I took the guy up on the flirting, but the cash cost less than my dignity. I stayed safe because I knew when to get the fuck out, but I really should have avoided all those scenarios from the beginning. I only had one women pick me up on my whole trip, and it was just for a half hour drive. I'm not trying to say all men are bad. I couchsurfed with a guy in a small studio, and he was a perfect gentleman. It's possible. But often times, if something seems too enticing, it's for a reason, and people have objectives.
I was flying a sign with a guy once, whom walked away to take a piss. The moment he was gone, the homebums creeped in to harass me. Another time, I had an old drunkard propose to me with a ring pop from Dollar Tree after getting down on all fours and pretending to drink out of my dogs' water bowl. He wouldn't stop asking for my number, while I had to lie and pretend I was dating the guy traveling with me. Many men don't respect women. They only respect 'another man's property.' I realize I sound like a mega-cunt feminist right now. I swear, I'm just trying to relay my honest experiences. I known some men that are just the greatest people out there. But when you're on the streets, you're not often interacting with the cream of the crop. People will be gross to you.
I know having a dog makes it harder to find work and get into housing. But the right dog will also keep you safe. I've lost out on opportunities specifically because my dog was being protective (not aggressive, but defensive). These are not opportunities you want anyway. Dogs can read people, and you can read them, if you pay attention. If my dog specifically doesn't like someone, it's because they have bad intentions for me or they are on hard drugs. Rescued mutts + experience on the road = wonderful fucking companions. That's my advice on the matter. I don't want my dog to be too friendly. We are trying to survive together. Even if a dog isn't intimidating enough to halt someone in their tracks, a little yapper can give you a heads up if something is amiss.
Self-defense is so important. Pepper spray is better than nothing, but it's a joke and won't stop everyone. You might just piss someone off more. If you do carry it, I recommend pepper gel; the wind won't catch it as much. I mostly keep this on hand for if I had to break up a dog fight. Bear spray is another option that is better for crossing borders with (Canada doesn't like self-defense items, but bear spray works on people too). You could keep a stun gun, but make sure that's it's still useful even if the battery is dead, so it needs some heft and sharp edges. I carry multiple knives of varying sizes, some visible and some hidden. Switchblades and spring-action are nice, but again, legality varies in different regions. I also have a shank. It gives a different impression than a knife. It's not a multi-use tool - it's just for stabbing bitches. I had my shank out the aforementioned night when someone tried to jump me at a rest area. It startled them enough to buy me time. It means that I've put more thought into this than you realize, as an initial impression. I have brass knuckles too. I'm not a puncher, but I figured it'd be better for stopping a blade coming at me than my bare hands.
Weapons don't work if they're not accessible when you need them!!! You don't have time to reach into the zippered compartment of your bag. Have it out and ready, or at the very least, in your pocket with your hand on it if you anticipate anything at all. Paranoia keeps you safe. Don't talk yourself out of it. But make sure you are competent at utilizing your tools. If you fumble, it will be used against you.
I carry a 9 mm, as well. This does not make me feel safer. This makes me a target. People assume I won't use it, and it draws many eyes for theft. I'd rather not show up with a knife to a gun fight, but it has its caveats. If you have one, know the laws in your location. I did not travel with a firearm on foot, only by vehicle. I have a safe, and I follow all procedures to legally pass through wherever I am. Don't be stupid, cops are as much of a danger to you as anyone else.
Which leads me to my next point, officers can be fucking creeps at well. I'm probably preaching to the choir here, but I have definitely had some uncomfortable situations arise. Like I said before, people in power positions can and will abuse it.
I know I have spoken a lot about creepy guys, but you'd be a fool to inherently trust women, as well. I have had girls approach me in a friendly manner, or seeking help, that were clearly lures for bigger traps. Tits don't make someone a good person. And good people can be in desperate situations that compromise their values too. Not all predators are obvious. You need to be cunning and analytical. I have heard about women injecting another lady in a public restroom, and then carrying her out to a strange vehicle, all under the guise of "sorry, my friend had a little too much to drink."
I could go on forever about this topic, and by no means am I an expert. Just speaking from the heart. I want to leave you with a piece of advice from Clint Emerson's 100 Deadly Skills: Survival Edition...
"Survival is a by-product of action. Be brave, swift, and violent."
I avoid confrontation whenever possible. But if you do, unfortunately, find yourself in a position with no choice, you have to act. Predators expect you to be weak and submissive. They expect you to be fearful and to follow orders. Surprise them. Be crazy. Scare them.
But most of all, be safe.