Extinction (48 page)

With the direct interface turned on, the
image of the alien interface blasted into Bloom’s mind. If the appearance of
the image into his mind could be described as a “blast” then the pain that
followed was nothing less than a nuclear explosion. Bloom almost passed out but
kept himself in the moment and worked through the pain and found what he was
looking for.

Bloom had expected the pain to increase
when he switched to a direct neural link but he wasn’t prepared for how
overpowering it would be. He also wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Time
began to slow down as the pain vanished altogether.

Nancy and Phil were beside
themselves with frustration. Their little boy was almost four and still not
talking. He made a lot of noise, babbled all day long in fact, making guttural
noises intermixed with high-pitched screeches. Never once had he said mommy or
daddy.

Jason had been to a couple of
speech therapists who were at a loss for what might be going on with him. When
he was with the therapists, Jason didn’t even babble or make any of the other
noises he made all day at home. As soon as they left the office, Jason would be
back to his own language that no one else could understand.

Nancy knew her son could
understand her even though everyone told her she was wrong. But when she
talked, he listened and even responded, though she had no idea what he was
saying. If she told him to change his shirt, he did. When she needed help
around the house, he would pitch in, as much as a four-year-old could. Even
with these and many more examples, Phil would always tell Nancy that she just
saw what she wanted to see, and unfortunately their son wasn’t normal and never
would be.

Most Wednesday nights, Phil took
Jason to one of his “Humans First” rallies. Phil didn’t consider himself a
bigot, racist, or speciest; he just cared about humanity and thought the
Coalition was catering to other species and leaving humans behind as fodder for
the Coalition’s political agenda. Phil had plenty of human friends who weren’t
white so he knew he wasn’t a racist. He also had worked in the past with plenty
of other species and didn’t hate them personally; he actually got along with
many of them, so he couldn’t be a speciest.

Phil didn’t want any harm to come
to the other species of the galaxy; he just didn’t want them taking human jobs
on human worlds. He didn’t want his tax dollars going towards saving a Shirka
birthing forest on a planet that he wasn’t even allowed to set foot on lest he
become food for the newborn cubs. He was tired of being out of work and seeing
more of his benefits being given away to other species instead of the humans
who deserved the benefits more.

Phil arrived and grabbed a
doughnut and a cup of coffee from the sign-in table. He tried handing one to
Jason but his offer was rebuked with an outstretched hand shaking back and
forth no. “Suit yourself, kid. More for me.”

Jason was usually a very active
and interactive child even though he didn’t speak to anyone, but at these
weekly meetings he became very withdrawn and tended not to interact at all.
Phil thought that being around a lot of people and hearing all of them speaking
passionately about their thoughts might just give Jason something to speak
about. Some of their passion for communicating might just rub off on his son.
But after almost six months of meetings, Jason never showed any sign of
improvement.

This week’s topic was going to be
the Coalition’s plan to integrate different species into combined military
units. Phil couldn’t believe what they were doing; this was going too far. If
there were interspecies military units, what would happen if Earth needed to
defend itself against one of the other Coalition member species? How would
humans rise up against an alien aggressor if their units had the aggressors
mixed in with them? Their aggressors would have access to all of the same
equipment, tactics and everything else. Something had to change.

One of the usual speakers was at
the podium, ranting and pounding his fists. It seemed that no matter what he
said, people would cheer as long as he pounded his fist somewhere in his
sentence. “Rabble rabble rabble”—fist pound—cheering. “Rabble rabble—fist pound—rabble.“
Cheering.

Phil was getting excited and so spun
up that he began making his own speeches to the people around him. He was
adding his own thoughts during the natural pauses of the speaker at the podium.
The crowd around Phil was now cheering him on, urging him forward towards the
podium, some yelling to let him speak too. By the time he was pushed to the
podium, the speaker was even encouraging Phil to get on stage.

Phil took the stage and stood in
front of the microphone. At first, he was a little shocked that he was the
center of attention. He wasn’t exactly sure how he had made it there or what he
should do next. Something in his brain told him to play it safe; start with the
material he had already been spouting in the crowd, the stuff that got him
there in the first place.

His first few sentences slobbered
out of his mouth awkwardly and barely made sense. He got a few confused looks
from the crowd along with a couple of supportive shout outs “Yeah, man!“ The
next few lines came out much more coherently but they still didn’t receive the
responses he had gotten just a few moments ago.

The original speaker was starting
to sweat a little and made a small tentative step towards Phil. He knew that
his moment was about to end if he didn’t get the crowd back. What was missing?
Ah ha! Fist pounding! He needed to add some fist pounding.

Phil pounded his fist into the
podium and looked out to the crowd. That got their attention but something was
still wrong. A few of the faces towards the front actually looked a little
scared. Damn it. The fist pounding doesn’t come before a sentence, never before
a sentence. In that context it seems aggressive, even attacking.

Deep breath. “Rabble rabble
rabble.” FIST POUND. Cheering! That was it; Phil had found his rhythm and set
into it as though he had invented the podium fist pound. The crowd loved him
and cheered for everything he said, even the stuff that didn’t make one lick of
sense.

When it was all over, Phil was
taken aside by a few of the men who had organized tonight’s rally. Phil was
still high on endorphins from his impromptu presentation so he barely heard most
of what was being said to him. The main points did sink in, though; he was
asked to speak at a public rally in two weeks. The rally wouldn’t be just for
humans; it was going to be in the middle of the town square and open to every
citizen who wanted to attend.

Phil was beside himself with joy.
After being unemployed for so long, he finally felt as if he was needed again.
In fact, he didn’t think he ever felt this important even while he was working.
His work was never really that important and if he were honest with himself, he
wasn’t really that good at it, either. But this, this was something that he
excelled at. Getting in touch with the people, showing them that they weren’t
the only ones who felt this way. Showing the crowds that they weren’t the minority
anymore, that they were strong if they stuck together in their fears and
ignorance of the real facts. Well, the last part in Phil’s mind was more along
the lines of, ‘if they stuck together in their convictions and knowledge of
right from wrong.’ Eh, you say tomato, I say idiot.

When Phil was finally done being
patted on the back, he realized that Jason was still somewhere in the crowd and
he needed to collect his son before leaving. Phil looked around and finally
found Jason under the snack table, crying. Phil had hoped that being on stage
and being the center of attention would enthrall his son, maybe even encourage
him to talk. All that happened was Jason became more withdrawn tonight and
cried like a two-year-old. Phil was so elated from his evening that even this
couldn’t bring him down, much.

Phil got home and told Nancy to
put their son to bed. He had great news and wanted to tell her without the
crybaby around. He didn’t want anything to detract from his news and didn’t
want his wife’s attention divided in the least.

Nancy knew that Phil had always
had issues with their son and a difficult time accepting his situation. This
was the first time she had ever seen Phil regard Jason with such contempt and
lack of respect. Nancy didn’t know what to do. She knew that she was loyal to
her husband above all other people in the universe but one, her son. She hadn’t
seen Phil this excited in years so she decided not to broach the subject with
him this evening, but she would, and soon. Something needed to change if he
expected them to continue as a family.

Nancy sat next to Jason on his
bed and brushed some hair away from his eyes. Jason closed his eyes and nudged
his forehead into his mother’s hand. He then babbled and cooed something in his
made-up language. Nancy smiled. She recognized the string of babble; she
thought it meant something along the lines of “I love you” or “Thank you.”
Maybe it was a combination of both or could be used for both. She just seemed
to hear this particular string of babble when they were alone with each other
and she was doing something particularly motherly. “I love you too, pumpkin.”

Nancy kissed Jason on the cheek
and then left his room, gently closing the door behind her. She walked out in
the living room of their one-bedroom apartment. Since Phil had lost his job,
Nancy was the only one earning any money and they could barely afford this tiny
apartment. Nancy told Phil that once he got a job then he could have his own
room but until then, their son would get his own room and a small feeling of
normalcy. Phil tried to rebuke her but for the first time in their whole
relationship, Nancy was standing firm and he knew that he couldn’t win the
argument.

When Nancy sat on their ragged
and stained couch, Phil was already pouring what was probably his second or
third glass of whiskey. She sat there and listened to Phil’s news and even
managed to look interested in it. She didn’t agree with Phil’s obsession with
the humanist movement but it was the one thing that brought him out of his depression
after he was laid off. Nancy thought that once the depression lifted, he would
find the motivation to get another job.

That never happened and his
depression was replaced with anger. Phil would spout off that he couldn’t find
a job because the aliens were taking all of the human jobs and he wasn’t being
given a fair chance because of all the affirmative action taking place. Nancy
would always point out jobs that Phil was qualified for but he always had an
excuse: The job was beneath him. It was manual labor. It was not worth his time.
The position was the same as his last and he was destined for more. The jobs he
was complaining about being taken from his were jobs that he wasn’t even
qualified or trained for.

As Nancy sat there, she realized
that she needed to do something to change her situation. She had promised to
love Phil and be with him through the good and bad but this wasn’t the Phil she
married. This wasn’t the man she had made those promises to. She was going to
let him have his rally and that was it. She would have a talk with him and let
him know that he had two weeks to get a job, no matter how menial or low-paying
it was. He was going to start being a productive member of this family. She
would help him and be his biggest supporter as he looked for something better
or even went back to school. But all of this hate and anger and self-pity
needed to end, now.
Mental fist pound—cheering.

In the days that led up to Phil’s
rally, Jason seemed more withdrawn to Nancy. The odd thing was that although he
was withdrawn from interaction, he seemed to be busy with something. She didn’t
know what but he was constantly babbling to himself and pacing. A lot of the
babbling seemed the same, as though he was repeating something. He was still
affectionate with her, especially when she tucked him in at night, but he was
still acting different than usual.

Phil was also acting different,
though not necessarily in a good way. Nancy was so conflicted with her
feelings, she didn’t know how to convey what she was thinking. Phil was proud,
dedicated, interested, engaging, showered daily and even sober. These were all
things that Nancy had wanted for so long but not in the furtherance of hate and
discontent. If only he could channel this excitement and focus into their
family and finding a job. If he had been like this at his last job, maybe he
wouldn’t have been fired. Phil always said he had been laid off but as time
wore on, Nancy became sure that that wasn’t the case.

The day came for his big speech.
He had practiced and practiced and felt ready to deliver a speech that he was
sure would find its way to a history book somewhere. Phil had to beg Nancy to
come and to bring Jason with her. Phil told her that the group had even found
speakers from other species who also believed that keeping their people
separate was in the best interest of the galaxy.