My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

14

It took me all of five minutes to pack, with the help of Sharkey, Ski, and Jiggs. At least I had the opportunity to shave.

Jiggs decided to stay in Washington, and promised me he’d try to keep an eye on Lee. Try being the operative word. He never really got along with him, but since Lee now outranks him, and is in effect, his boss, there’s not too much Jiggs can actually say or do to complain about anything. 

After our goodbyes, Jiggs waved us off as the limo took us to the dock. The Flying Sub was well guarded especially as the special scale model harvester ready to be loaded by Sharkey and Ski. 

It didn't take long and all we had to do was wait for Numbers.

“You going to want the joystick, sir?” Sharkey asked me.

“No, Francis. You take the helm.”

It wasn’t long before we heard sirens. Numbers had been given a police escort. It was difficult not to be a little jealous, as he'd been accorded a police escort and we hadn't this time. He didn't have much luggage, even though some of it was alien food and drink.

After a brief pre-flight check list, we cleared the dock and were soon aloft.

I tried to make conversation with my fellow passenger, but after a few ‘yes’ and ‘no’ answers to such stimulating topics as the weather, and latest hurricane forecast (there was one brewing in the Atlantic), I gave up.

 “This is the fast-est you can go?” Numbers asked.

“Afraid so.” In fact we're a lot faster than civilian aircraft.(They'd been cleared to fly ever since the aliens had made contact and moved their spaceships into higher orbits. But most people had cancelled their flights for fear of possible impending doom.)

“You are a prim-i-tive species.”

“Yes,” I said, “but we still have the ‘prime source’ of ocean salts and organisms you need, aren't we."

“Excuse me, Lt.,” Sharkey asked, “have your kind lived or visited here before?”

“If we had, you would not still be so pri…prim-e-val.You have even allowed your seas to become  pol…po-lu-ted.”

“Unfortunately,” I said, “not all of our nations have had the time or energy to restrict some dumping by unscrupulous businesses or rural areas.”

“Even your United States is not good at pa-troll-ling its ter-i-tor-i-al areas.”

“No, to our disgrace.”

From then on the only conversation was between Sharkey and the Seaview about our estimated time of arrival and the need to splash down a little further away than planned due to Hurricane Carolee.

“You do not know how to condition your weather? To prevent or move hur…hur-ri-canes?” Numbers asked.

“You can control the weather?” Ski asked, awe struck.

“Within certain pa..pa-ram-et-ers, yes. I can contact the captain to  take care of this storm if you wish.”

“As devastating as hurricanes can be near land masses,” I said, “this one is only a fish storm. Altering our weather patterns might cause adverse effects on our entire ecological system. ”

“You are afraid.”

“Yes, I am. And I might ask if your dead oceans might have been a result of any such tampering?”

“You are very o…o-pin-ion-ated.”

“Do you know the answer?”

“Our scientists would have told us if we had caused the prob-lem. I do not wish to continue this discussion.”

“As you wish, Lt.”

After a tedious few hours we finally splashed down and sailed through the depths toward Seaview.

“It is a mag-ni-fi-cent craft,” Numbers said as we neared, our lights and Seaview’s exterior and interior lights illuminating her in the inky blackness.

“Even if she’s the creation of us primordial beings?” Ski asked.

“Ski,” I warned.

“Even so,” Numbers said as we began docking procedures.

I was surprised Chip formally piped us aboard. But I supposed it was only correct as the Lt. was the liaison for our visitors from outer space. In effect, a kind of ambassador.

“Welcome aboard, Lt. Numbers,” Chip said. “I’m Mr…Captain Morton. I hope you find your stay satisfactory.”

“Thank you. My foodstuffs?” he asked, turning to Ski, who has carrying the small bag.

“I can take them to the galley if you want.”

“No,” Numbers took the bag out of his hand, “I prefer to keep them with me.”

“If you’ll follow Lt. O’Brien to your quarters, sir,” Chip said. “I’ve assigned crewmen Isles and Kirk, here, to be your escorts for the duration. They’ll see to it that you won’t be disturbed and that you’ll be able to visit unrestricted areas of the boat at your convenience.

“Correction. You have assigned them as my guards. Now. When will we begin the tests?”

“Shortly, sir. Divers are getting ready to go outside and prepare the containment field.”

“Ah, good. You will see, Admiral, that your pres-i-dent’s hesitation is un…un-war-ranted.”

“I hope so.”

“Excuse me Captain Morton," Sparks called out, "special broadcast coming on.”

“Pipe it though.”

“Aye sir.”

The monitors sprung to action…

“…A short White House press conference has been scheduled for early this afternoon which may or may not have any relationship to the videos given to CNN from assorted public media. As you can see here, the friendly relationship between the president and the alien known as Melody has taken a decidedly romantic turn.”

Despite the rain, Lee, still wearing the chambray shirt and jeans, and Melody the same dress as this morning, were on the White House lawn. She was happily twirling around as the rain fell on her, delighted with it. Lee took both of her hands and they twirled around together before he scooped her up in his arms. And kissed her. A long kiss. On the lips,  before he carried her back into the White House.

“…One has to wonder what Melody’s fellow aliens, especially her father, will think of this. And there have already been reports of outraged citizens, including Ronald Nelson and his mother Jessica Hawthorne who is also on parole….”

“If Lee wants to make a fool of himself,” she said, holding Ronald’s arm, “normally, I’d say let him. But not if it includes giving himself and us to the aliens to rule over.”

 “I’ve said it before,” Ronald said, “and I’ll say it again, “he ought to be impeached. We don’t want any alien takeover. That’s what’ll happen you know. And now, well, would you want our world to become infested with half breed mutants like will probably happen between Lee and the alien dog? That’s what she looks like. A real ugly dog.”

“Ronald,” Jessica warned. “My son spoke out of turn. But why should Lee chose her when he could have the pick of any of our beautiful girls on Earth? Not very sound judgement, Mr. President. If one gross looking alien girl can entice him, well, what about other things the aliens might want from us, other than salt? Ronnie’s right. Impeach the president, and move up the election.”

“…Others,” the reporter continued from the anchor desk, “have indicated that they’re happy that the couple may indeed be formalizing their relationship with marriage. But none of the White House staff is saying. Not even the president’s chief aide, Commander Jackson who has been silent on the subject.

“And now in other news….”

“Turn it off, Sparks,” Chip ordered.

“This Ron-ald,” Numbers said. “He is the bad son? The same Ronald that Melody told me caused the pres-i-dent to lose his eye? The same one  that caused you and your wife injury?”

“Yes,” I replied, “including attempted murder. And now he’s trying to rile our citizens against the  proposed trade agreement.”

“On my world, the decision would be made by leader. Pres-i-dent Lee is weak. And…has corrupted the captain’s daughter.”

“That is a matter of opinion, Lt.”

“Yes. I will go to my quarters now,” he nodded and let O’Brien and the crewmen escort him aft.

“Sparks,” Chip called out. “Remember our orders.”

“Aye sir.”

I raised my eyebrow and Chip took me aside.

“Lee had us bug the Lt.’s cabin. Any sounds, words, tones, will be deciphered into our computer. Admiral, is it my opinion that Numbers is jealous of Lee’s relationship to the girl?”

“I don’t doubt it. And it’s going to get worse…before we left, Lee told me he was going to ask Melody to marry him today. From what we saw on TV, I’m pretty sure he already has and that she’s said yes.”

“As if Lee doesn’t have enough on his plate, now this? Not that I begrudge him a wife, even an alien one, if that’s what he wants, but…people are going to give him grief about it. A lot of grief.”

“Call from the Skip...er, president, Admiral," Sparks said, "your cabin. Videophone.”

“Fine, I’ll be right there.”

I saw the guards standing watch outside of Number’s cabin as I headed to my cabin around the corner and was glad Lee had ordered Chip to insure our guest was never left alone. If he could catch a bullet in his hand, and control the weather (well, with the help of the alien captain's spaceship), who knew what he could do.

I closed and locked my door, let the videophone scan my iris and fingerprint, and waited the few seconds for the image to form.

“You saw?” Lee asked, still moist from outside, his hair wild with curls like it gets when wet.

“I take it you had success.”

He grinned.

“Her father’s coming down soon shortly and we’ll announce it to the press if he doesn’t vaporize me,” he laughed. “I told Mom. She’s none too thrilled but has accepted it. I wish you could be here with me when we tell the world. But I really need you there, Harry. To get these damn tests done.”

“I agree. Did you know they can control the weather? Even offered to stop the hurricane.”

“I take it you declined.”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad. Sounds like a very bad move what with what we’ve already done to cause global warming. Everything all set for the tests?”

“Pretty soon. Chip has probably already sent the divers out to construct the containment field. Numbers will join me in the Observation Nose to watch, before they take out the model harvester. And then, well, we’ll soon find out what we need to know. I think three tests would be satisfactory as far as scientific calculations are concerned.”

“Fine…there’s something else, Harry. The wedding will be sooner than I'd expected.”

“You’re not in any kind of trouble, are you, son?”

“No, no, no,” he laughed. “It’s Mel’s mother, still on their home world. She’s insisting we marry soon, while I’m still in office. More prestige for Melody that way, even if I’m so damn ugly, like Melody has said at times. Melody translated, but I’m sure she left out the more descriptive details.”

“There’re bound to be some objection on both worlds.”

“Guess I’m a glutton for punishment…I took this job, after all, didn’t I? Well, I’m sure you’re busy. Tell Chip we’re having apple pie and chocolate brownies for lunch. And milk. Whole milk, from a cow. None of that powdered stuff.”

“I can hear him drooling already. Well, you take care. I’ll be watching the news conference.”

“Thanks. I was hoping you would. Give Emily my best when you call her. I’m sure you want to tell her the news before the reporters park themselves on her doorstep. I’ve already had my Mom go visit my aunt to get away from them.”

“Well, I know I said it before, but I’ll say it again. Congratulations, son.”

“Thanks,” he said and ended the call.

A White House wedding. There hadn’t been too many of them in recent years. I could just imagine this one. Enemies of the groom on one side, enemies of the bride on the other. If Lee and ‘Mel’ decide to hold the ceremony in the confines of the place that is. They might just decide on a park, or with a justice of the peace. I certainly don't know what is expected in a ‘bonding’ ceremony that Melody, as the bride, is certainly entitled to. Of course, it's  not going to be tomorrow. At least I hope not. I want to stand up for Lee. Support him on the most important day of his life.

And as for Melody, I know Lee must have filled her in on the dangers of life in the public eye as she’s already witnessed, before asking for her hand formally. As First Lady she’ll be expected to attend public functions. Come hell or high water.

Hell or high water. Like these tests are going to be. Part of me wans no part of the trade agreement. I don't like the idea of tampering with Mother Nature, yet, just a little tampering might help untold millions with new technologies that the aliens will use to  pay for in exchange for the small amount of sea salt and minerals, they'll be taking back with them to their world.

Well, it’s time to head to the nose and see how far the divers have gotten with the containment field. I won’t be going out to use the scale harvester. And the divers will pump out the resulting waters into containers to bring back for me to examine.

But first I have to tell Chip what to expect from the press conference. And most of all, to ask him to help me on choosing what possible kind of wedding present I can give the happy couple.