Shalia's Diary (6 page)

Where are the sex-crazed, primitive abductors I was told about?  Where are the beasts that I produced so many cautionary (read ‘alarmist’) films about?  Not a single one of these men has threatened me in any way.  They treat Mom like a queen, never getting angry when she spills something or starts to wander off or forgets what she’s saying in the middle of a sentence.  She even came back to herself once, the old cranky Eve that never sees anything good in anybody.  For every insult she hurled at the Kalquorians that crossed her path, they only seemed to get nicer.  Let me tell you, my mom can sling some mean in her natural state.  I thought for sure the guy who keeps an eye on her during mornings and early afternoons would punch her right in the mouth.  But no, Imdiko Weln only cocked an eyebrow at me.  I swear the guy was on the brink of hysterical laughter.  He bit his lips during her outburst, but I could still see them lifting at the corners as Mom told him the various things he could shove up his own backside.

“Bipolar disorder,” I told him.  “It’s either this or she’s crying and looking for a noose to wear around her neck.”

The young, cute Weln looked like he would respond, but that little salvo re-directed my mother’s fury at me.  “I am not ill!  Shut up telling these murdering aliens our private business!”

All the yelling brought in Nayun.  He sedated her, quite against her wishes but completely in line with mine.  When Mom woke she was once more in happy, if dim, Dementia Land again.

Anyway, I was going to talk about Dusa.  He’s a young one, it turns out, a little younger than me.  I was writing my latest entry when he walked in yesterday.  As he entered, his smile was tentative, as if he just knew I was going to toss him right out of the room.  Or more likely, order him out.  Yours truly is not going to be literally tossing a 200-plus pound example of pure brawn anywhere.

“Hello, Matara Shalia.  You are looking much better.”

Ha.  I haven’t seen a comb in days.  I’m wearing no makeup, I’m starved, and I’m completely hagged out from being sick.  If I’m looking much better now, I can only imagine how gorgon-ish I was when he found me passed out in the middle of someone’s flowerbed.

He, in comparison, was wonderful to look at.  I know, I know, the enemy, the monster Kalquorians, the rapists looking to damn our souls.  Whatever.  Dusa is a very handsome version of his kind.  Of anybody’s kind.  So take me out and shoot me for appreciating it.

I smiled and self-consciously raked my fingers through my hair.  I really need to ask for a brush.  “Hello, Dramok Dusa.  I’m starting to feel more like myself.”

“May I visit with you for a few minutes?”

“Sure,” I said, wishing mascara and lipstick would fall from the heavens like manna.  Okay, I know I’m being stupid here.  But he is that handsome and I felt really unattractive. 

He stood at my bedside.  His long hair hung loose.  Black and sleek, it lay down his back in a sheet.  He has high cheekbones.  I almost want to characterize them as ‘arrogant’.  If he didn’t wear such an open, innocent expression, those cheekbones would make him appear haughty. 

Dusa also has a nice strong jawline and an almost pointed chin.  His lips are a bit thin but when he smiles, which is a lot, I don’t really notice that small imperfection.  And of course he has those funny purple cat eyes.  I’m starting to get used to those, so they didn’t freak me out too much.  And his fangs were folded away, so that also helped.

“I owe you thanks for giving us food and rescuing me,” I said after a few moments of uneasy silence.

“Not at all.”  He looked pleased just the same.  “I am happy we were able to find you in time.”

“I guess I didn’t make it easy on you.”  I felt a little pride in that.  I’ve been hearing what great trackers Kalquorians are, so slipping away from Dusa was something of an accomplishment.

He reddened.  “I was assigned to monitor five other Mataras we’ve been trying to get to come in.  You left the first house while I was checking on some of those.  I lost your scent.”

Lost my scent.  Like he’s part bloodhound or something.  Then I remembered the first time I saw him, coming down the street with two other Kalquorians.  They’d had their noses in the air.

“Oh well.  I’m here now.”

Dusa nodded.  “I only wish I had been able to find you sooner before you got too ill.  You scared us, Matara.  We thought you might die.”

He actually looked upset over my becoming so sick.  It startled me to see that. 

We talked a little more.  Dusa is away from his home planet for the first time.  He’d just missed out on combat when the war ended.  I was kind of glad to hear that.  It was easier to not feel guilty talking to him knowing he hadn’t killed any of my kind.  He’s clanned to a Nobek who is also here at the Academy and serves as onsite security.  They haven’t found an Imdiko yet.

“Before the virus that killed most of our Mataras, Imdikos were the rarest of our breeds,” Dusa told me.  “It can be difficult to find one, especially since I’m serving off planet.”

I was fascinated to get a glimpse into the clan thing.  We’d been told by our government that Kalquorians liked to lie in sin with men as much as women.  That whole homosexual business would land you in the fiery pit faster than anything else, or so said the Church. 

I’m pretty antagonistic about the state religion, and I’ve usually felt that if the Church wanted me to believe in something, I’d go in the opposite direction.  However, I wasn’t sure what to think about three men together, doing THAT.  But then again, I don’t much care for doing THAT, so what do I know?

“You, uh, you don’t think any of the Imdikos here would be a good match for you?” I asked.  “There are some very nice ones that are orderlies and nurses here.  Handsome too.”

Dusa grinned.  “I wish I had time to meet them.  More rescue teams are supposed to be arriving soon, so maybe my Nobek and I will have an opportunity when they get here.  Right now, we’re too exhausted from working double shifts.  When we get done with work, we eat and go straight to sleep.”  He ducked his head.  “This was my first chance to check on you since you got here.  I had hoped to see you sooner.”

Something beeped on the wide belt Dusa wore around his waist, and he grimaced.  “And now my time is up already.”  He blew out a breath.  “I am glad you are doing so well, Matara.”

I was disappointed to see he was getting ready to walk out.  I have so many questions, but much like Dusa, everyone is really busy around here.  No one has much time to talk.

For this reason I asked, “Will you be able to visit me again?”

Dusa gave me a big, surprised smile.  “I would like to.  May I?”

“I invited you, didn’t I?”  I held out my hand.  “And since we were never properly introduced, my name is Shalia.  You don’t have to call me Matara all the time.”

Dusa took my hand gently, as if afraid he might break me.  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Shalia.  Call me Dusa, if you like.”

I shook his hand.  “Don’t let me make you late, Dusa.  Come back as soon as you are able to.”

“I will.”

And off he went to rescue more reluctant Earther gals.  It’s late in the day now, and he hasn’t been back yet.  So either he lied about wanting to see me again or they’re working that poor boy to death still.  Hopefully he’ll come back and I’ll have a brush by then.

September 7

Woohoo, I was finally allowed out of bed for a bit.  Nayun took me for a little walk this afternoon.  About fifty new Kalquorians showed up here at the Academy last night, and they started working today.  Nayun and others are finally able to work sane hours, and he had a little time to spend as I took my first post-sickness jaunt.

Dusa still hasn’t been back to see me.  Maybe now that they have more help around here, he’ll visit soon.  Maybe not.  Fifty more men isn’t really that many for all the work the Kalquorians are trying to do in this area, but this isn’t one of the more heavily populated places.  Nayun says the biggest concentration of resources is going to the cities that were not blown up, places like Miami, Belfast, and Tokyo. 

I got to see the recreation room where people like my mom are kept for most of the day.  This ‘recreation room’ is actually a small banquet room off the Academy’s dining hall.  This is where the high muckety-mucks who ran the Academy would host government and Church officials who occasionally came to look over the operation. 

The Kalquorians have stocked it with readers, puzzles, games, and other things to keep everyone entertained.  They let invalids come in here in shifts; Nayun told me there are over 250 Earthers needing such supervised care right now.  That’s too many to put in the room at once, so people rotate spending time in this common room, outdoors, therapy (individual and group), and in their own quarters.  The people who make up this group; the elderly, moderately traumatized, and special needs folks; are being well tended by orderlies and psychiatric specialists. 

When I peeked in, Mom was sitting on a couch, happily knitting a scarf and chattering to herself.  I noted that the supervising Kalquorians brought around water and juice and snacks to everyone, as well as generally keeping an eye on their wards’ well-being.  I’ll be damned if I didn’t see one big, hulking alien braiding an elderly woman’s hair as she sat playing a card game with other patients.  This guy looked like he should be knocking down mountains with his bare fists, yet there he was, plaiting white strands in the loveliest French braid you ever saw.  He finished it off with a blue bow, and the woman smiled up at him like he was her very best friend.  He patted her shoulder as gentle as you please and moved on to help a young man with Down’s Syndrome who was having trouble with his handheld.

Nayun pursed his lips as he looked at my mother.  “Have you thought about where you’ll go from here?”

I nibbled my lip as I looked at Mom too.  I would have to make the decision for both her and myself, seeing as how she was so dependent.  “You said the dementia might be able to be cured on your planet?”

“Along with her bipolar disorder.”

“Really?”  Now there was a thought.  “You mean really cured?  For good?  Or maintained with medication, because she would never go for that.  She refuses to believe anything is wrong with her.”

“There is an implant that can regulate the chemicals in her brain so that she would not suffer those extreme shifts in mood.  It would go a long way towards giving her some peace.  She wouldn’t have to deal with so much anger or sadness.”

Until the dementia took such great hold, I’d never known my mother except angry or depressed.  Even pictures I’d seen of her as a toddler showed an enraged being, screaming her absolute fury at the world.  Why my grandparents hadn’t gotten her help back then is beyond me.  Sure, medical care was expensive, but didn’t being a parent mean doing everything to take the best possible care of your kids?  No matter Mom’s other shortcomings, she’d barely let me suffer a sniffle without trucking me straight to the doctor.  When we got too far behind in what was owed for medical care for the doctor to see me anymore, she’d find another.  She was a lioness protecting her cub when it came to my physical well-being.  I give her all the credit in the world for that.

I couldn’t imagine the woman she might have been without the mental illness.  If she’d cared for herself half as well as she did me, our relationship wouldn’t have been so tumultuous.  Dad wouldn’t have walked out on us and tried to drink himself to death before his heart gave out.  Maybe.  Who knew?

“She can’t get that kind of treatment on one of the colonies,” I acknowledged.  “Our medicine isn’t that good.”

“It’s another consideration to help you make your decision.”

I took a deep breath.  Now that I had the opportunity to ask one of my most pressing questions, I was actually afraid to.  I wasn’t sure I’d like the answer.

“Doctor, if I decide I prefer to go to one of the colonies, would I really be allowed to?  I am of childbearing age, and it was my understanding your people would want to breed with women like me.”

Nayun looked down at me, his face infinitely patient as if he had grown used to hearing the same question over and over.  “Yes, Shalia, you can go wherever you please.  The Imperial Clan, led by Empress Jessica, has guaranteed that Earther women will be given that choice for at least the next five years.  There was a huge battle with the Royal Council over that very issue.”