An Illness

An Illness

It was sometime shortly after the second fall back in Border City that I had that little virus, a little cold or something like that.  That’s all it was.  I hadn’t bothered to see Carol because there was no pill for treating a viral infection anyway.  Just drink lots of fluids, take a little ASA and it would go away.  And, it did. 

A few weeks later, I was having chest pains and thought that I had another bug.  But I was getting tired easily and couldn’t handle things that just a few weeks earlier had been simple.  Lise noticed a change in my color, as I was becoming more pale, but what she noticed most, was my lack of interest in her, particularly at night when we were alone.  “It’s not that I don’t love you any more Lise, or that I don’t find you interesting.  Quite the contrary, you are becoming more beautiful every day and I want to be with you.  We’ve had so much fun together.   I just don’t seem to have the energy to keep up with you.”

“Then go see Carol.  She might be able to give you something.”

“I don’t want to bother her.  Besides, it’s probably nothing and will go away in a little while.”

“No!  You need to see the Doctor.  If you won’t go to her, I’ll get her to come here.”  Lise could really be insistent if she felt she needed to, and when she was like that, there was no sense arguing. 

“Fine, I’ll see her next week.”

“You’ll see her in the morning.”

And see her I did.  Carol listened to my symptoms which included shortness of breath, palpitations, loss of sleep and generally, little energy.  She felt my pulse, took out her stethoscope and listened to my heart and took my blood pressure. “Are you having any trouble breathing?  Does it cause you any pain?” she asked.

“Yes, some.”

“Have you had any colds or little illnesses recently, like in the last month or so?”

“No,” I have been pretty healthy up till this.

“Are you sure that you have not had any colds or the like recently?”

Then I remembered the cold.  It was so minor that it didn’t seem important, but it was important to Carol.  “How long did you have it?”

“Just a few days.  It didn’t even cause me much trouble, you know, like a sore throat and stuff like that.”

“Warren, I need to do some tests.  The clinic has an X-ray machine.  I want to have a look at your chest and see what’s going on in there.  You may have a lung infection.” 

“Well, can’t you just give me something for that and let me get on with business?”

“No, this could get worse.  We can’t have our president coming down with something, can we?” 

“I don’t think this is anything.  Lise made me come see you.”

“Good for Lise.  Come on; we’re going to the clinic right now.”  Although we used the clinic for things like X-rays and the like, no one stayed there regularly as it wasn't required.  Doctor Manning usually remained around our local shop unless someone needed her expertise elsewhere. Carol turned on the generator and on came the lights.  While she searched for the plates for the pictures she was going to take, I entered the room with the equipment per her instructions.

As I sat waiting, I remembered being in these rooms on many an occasion.  But the first X-ray that I ever remembered was one in a well known clothing store, long since closed since the demise of the original owners.  Dad had purchased many of my clothes from these fine people.  Every year, just before school opened in September, he took me there for a new pair of shoes.  The dangers of excess X-ray were unknown to the public at that time, so many shoe stores wanting to have the latest in technology had invested in a machine that could see the bones in your feet while you were wearing your shoes.  It seemed like a good idea.  I still remember looking down at my feet.  “Yup, the shoes fit perfectly,” Dad would say. 

Then there was that broken bone in my arm. Another time, I had chest pain and the doctor thought it was my heart.  So did I actually, but later realized it was gall stones.  I still have those and they don’t really bother me.

Carol marched into the room and threw a white gown at me.  “Here, put this on,” she ordered.  How could I refuse?  It was only Carol, but I wasn’t going to stand around naked in front of her.

“Do I really need this?  Why don’t I just take off my shirt?”

“As you wish,” she said.  And there I stood bare skinned as she pushed me up again the icy surface of the X-ray machine.

“O crap this is cold!”

“I told you.  Now shut up and take a deep breath.”

“Has anyone spoken to you lately about your bedside manner?”

“Be quiet.  Take the deep breath and don’t move.”  She disappeared into the side room.  There was a little clicking and clunking and she was back, turning me to the side.  “Same orders.  Big breath, hold it, and for Pete’s sake, don’t move.”

When she returned the second time, she had me sit down and wait while she developed the negatives.  I had had quite a bit of experience in black and white photography years before, but when digital came, it lost most of its fascination.  I still liked taking pictures, but the magic of the darkroom was lost.  I had used photography at one time as a reward for my more diligent students who were interested. No, it wasn’t to get them into the dark room.  Some of my former students had gone on to become photographers in their own right.  I was feeling a little nostalgic when Carol returned with the clips.  “If I had had negatives like that when I was doing photography, I wouldn’t have needed an enlarger.”

“Let’s see if we can see anything here,” Carol stated and snapped the X-rays onto the lit-up screen.  As I mumbled on in the background, she intently studied my photogenic interior.  “Nothing wrong with your lungs.”

She sat me down and gave me a shot of something that she said would make the picture show up as the soft organs weren’t going to be very visible in the X-ray otherwise.  Then after several minutes, we did the X-rays again.

I walked around admiring the equipment as Carol snapped the latest photos onto the screen and studied them.  After a few minutes she invited me to sit down as she took a seat facing me.  “Warren, I don’t think I can do anything for this.”

“That’s what I said from the beginning.  It’s just a little bug that will go away on its own.”

“No, Warren.  This is not going away.  The damage is done and is getting worse by the day.  I don’t think that you are the kind of person who wants anyone to beat around the bush.  So, I’ll give it to you straight.  That wasn’t a cold you had.  I believe that you have a condition called myocarditis.”

“That sounds like heart.  I thought you said you suspected my lungs.  Itis?  Doesn’t that mean inflammation of…of my heart?  That doesn’t sound good.”

Carol came right to the point.  “Warren, my old friend, you have a heart that is probably degenerating as we speak.  There are drugs that can extend your life, but you need to prepare for the worst.  I’ll see what I can find at the hospital and pharmacies as far as medication is concerned, but most stuff is out of date, and I don’t have the knowhow to reproduce it.  We can check with the survivors to see if anyone was in pharmacy before the invasion.  I’m so sorry Warren.”

“How long do I have?”

“I’m not sure.  There are other tests we could do if we had the equipment.  You know, Warren, maybe I’m totally mistaken…” she stopped in mid sentence as she glanced back at the X-rays on the wall.

“But you’re pretty sure, aren’t you?”

“I’m afraid so.  But there's always hope.  The pain may indicate that the infection is still raging and maybe, just maybe I can find some medication to help.  Pray that I do.”

“Carol, promise me that you’ll not tell Lise.  I don’t want her worrying.  She has enough on her plate.”

“Warren, she has to know.  This wouldn’t be fair to her.  She’s a part of your life and deserves to know why you’ve been the way you have.  Don’t forget, ‘in sickness and in health’”

“Yeah, and ‘till death do us part.’  At least you can let me do it.”

“Very well.  But don’t put this off.  I’ll drive you home now, but you aren’t to work. You can rest for the remainder of the day.  Take it easy and you’ll be okay.”  She assured.   

***

Doctor Manning’s search for the needed medication was unfruitful.  Daily, I felt the life draining out of me.  I was a real water drinker and loved it cold and in large quantities.  Doctor’s orders?  I could eat ice in small quantities.  Apparently, this would reduce the volume of blood in my system and make it easier on my heart.  Lise, who continued to pester me about what was wrong, was given misleading information to keep her happy.  She seemed to buy into the idea that I simply had a particularly difficult flu virus that was hanging on.  Doctor Manning didn’t tell her the truth either, but continually badgered me to do so, which I in turn promised to do, but failed to execute.

Elex, who couldn’t help but notice my decline, my frailty, and had given up on getting anything out of me, took it upon himself to speak to the doctor on my behalf.  He couldn’t understand Carol’s insistence that there was a patient-doctor confidentiality issue involved, when from what he was observing; his human friend seemed to be dying.  Like a beaver gnawing on a large tree, bite by bite, it eventually tumbles down.  So it was with Carol.  In tears she shared with Elex everything she knew about the progression of my condition and the ultimate outcome.  “Don’t worry, Carol.  Everything will work out.  You’ll see.”  After that, no one saw Elex for a couple of weeks.

Lise was off to reserves training and I was alone when the knock sounded on the door.  There stood Elex.  “I’ve got something I want to show you, man.  Come on.”  And he turned on his heals and headed towards the street.

“Elex, where the hell have you been?”  He paid me no mind.  I went on.  “Elex, I don’t know if you noticed but I’m not dressed,” I yelled after him as he walked out to the street.

“I’ll wait in the car.”  And with that, he opened the door to a brand new Land Rover, hopped in and made himself comfortable.  It was tiring dressing after a long day, but I didn’t want to give Elex anything to be concerned about.  I passed the mirror and took in the skeleton I was becoming.  I shook my head, took several deep breaths and slowly made my way to his recent acquisition.  Cars were really selling cheap these days.  We all lived so close together, that it was odd that Elex would even need transportation.  But we didn’t stop at his place.  In fact, we drove to a part of town with which I was unfamiliar and that was saying something considering it was my town.

“Elex, what are we doing out here?” I questioned.

“I told you, Warren, there's something I want to show you.”  And with that, he pulled into a driveway and activated a garage door opener.  We parked inside.

“So, you're going to show me your new house.  How nice, Elex.  Now take me back to my place.  But first, where are you getting power for this place?”

“A portable generator supplies the power and it’s not my new house.  Just be patient and you’ll see what I have to show you.”  Elex knew I wasn't really a drinking man, but he had cold beer in a fridge.  One could hardly hurt.  Doctor Manning would probably disagree, but how could I refuse anyway.  I hadn’t had one in weeks.

“So, where is it, Elex?”  I glanced around the room.  All that was there was a large screen TV.  This is it, he said gleefully.  And hit another remote, turning on a DVD.  The screen lit up and there was one of my favorite Sci-Fi movies from years past.   I was enjoying myself, perhaps too much, as Elex was slipping me beer after beer, until I was barely conscious.   I really didn’t tolerate alcohol very well.

Elex had a black object on the table beside him about the size of one of the paper writing cubes that people give to one another when they can’t find anything else for a birthday or Christmas present.  He was hooking up wires to it that had electrodes on the other ends.  “O God!” I thought, “It’s his old N’davalite self coming back. We’re all doomed.”  I tried to raise myself up, but I was either strapped down, or just didn’t have the strength to do so.

“Don’t worry buddy.  I’m here to help.  I’ll have you as good as new in no time.”

I felt pressure on my temples as Elex pressed the electrodes against my skin.  It began to get dark.  “The power’s going out, Elex.  You better check the gas in the generator,” I said as the room went completely black.

Food Supply

Debbie was immediately designated Chief Agricultural Minister and with her assigned team immediately set to work producing the fresh produce required to feed the new and growing population of Border City.  Debbie pretty much had the county to herself.  To interfere would have been a big mistake.  The land outside the city limits was ideal for farming - flat, rich and available.  There were several properties to choose from, but in the end, Debbie chose a large farm in the county that had a huge house, several out-buildings and up-to-date machinery.  The team stayed at the house throughout the week, but all members were given town leaves on a rotating basis. Debbie ran her farm like the military.

The first summer and fall, the farm yielded a fair amount of produce, produce that made most of the population happy, except for the fact that there was a limited supply. However, it was not good enough to meet Debbie’s high standards.  The soil had to be enriched and the planting needed to begin earlier.  Farms in the area were scoured for natural fertilizer. 

Although Debbie had brought her personal supply of hens, she also sent out a crew of two individuals to search out domestic animals that could also be included in the farm project.  The crew was gone for about a month, and Debbie was getting concerned for their wellbeing, but just about the time she was going to send someone to search for them, a large truck pulled up to the farm.  Inside were cattle, hogs, sheep and several hens and a couple of roosters.  It was reported that Debbie greeted her search team happily, saying, “Well done fellows.  Now we have a farm.” 

None of the animals could be used for meat.  They needed to be bred to create larger herds and flocks.  Debbie needed more members on her team and another site to house the stock.  Fortunately, one was located on a corner property that bordered a small stream and was not too distant from gardens.  Stock also meant grains would be needed.  There was adequate seed available on several farms to suffice for the present, but corn, wheat and soy beans would have to be planted. 

By the third year, there were enough birds for an egg supply and also meat.  Pork took a little longer.  There was a limited supply of meat from that source in the second through the fourth years, as boars were not needed in large numbers.   By the end of the fifth season, lack of pork was no longer a problem.  Debbie was not yet able to raise enough dairy cattle to provide much milk for the residents, nor was beef in abundance.  When the large ships were completed however, that problem would be rectified.  Scouts had flown south and found large herds of cattle roaming freely over the countryside.

Besides her work on the farm, Debbie encouraged the citizens of Border City to cultivate their own gardens to take some of the burden off her farm.  She even visited would be gardeners giving tips on how to raise this or that.  With the original city council long ago defunct, bylaws were meaningless.  It was not uncommon for folk to keep a bird or two in their yards for eggs, again encouraged by Debbie. Occasionally the odd animal roamed freely about the town.  I had picked a winner in Debbie.  She was everything we had hoped for.  To think that she had almost decided to live as a hermit with her two children.

***

Without a large fleet of ships daily emptying the lakes of fish, the marine animal populations gradually began to return to normal.  It was amazing to see residents fishing off the banks of the river catching enormous and plentiful supplies.  But it occurred to me that we needed to reinstate a fisheries department, not to interfere with our local fishermen, but to bring in a larger supply so that fish too, could be part of the food source, especially for those who were working and had no time to spend by the river.  A few English speaking survivors from Japan who had some expertise in this area volunteered for this work.  There were boats built especially for this purpose docked in a nearby community, so it was just a matter of arranging to get the volunteers to the boats.  When they caught fish in abundance, we would have them haul their catch to the city in a large truck.

Our two new recruits did a fine job, but needed to work on the lake infrequently as they never came in empty handed.  It was the best fishing they had ever done.  Because the meat wouldn't keep, for we didn't have suitable cold storage, they began to dry and salt most of it.  Fatty fish like trout, they smoked.  Many of those who enjoyed eating fish were used to it this way to begin with.  I remembered stories of the cod caught off the coast of Newfoundland told by sailors from England.  From their tales, you would think that the fish just jumped into their dories.  But the fact remained that at that time, there were cod in abundance.  With a moratorium on cod fishing over the past few years, I wondered if that population had come back at all.  In spite of my musing, we were nowhere near the ocean and we were not about to send our local fishermen into the dangerous Atlantic to have a look see, let alone spend time there.  At least for now, our smaller world would just have to satisfy itself with fresh water fish and since no one was asking, I wasn't going to suggest it.

***

With all the jobs assigned to various individuals and the work at the plants, it seemed that someday, we'd have to reinstate some kind of currency.  For surely everyone was not going to work for nothing forever.  Yet, it was encouraging to see people volunteer their services, knowing that there would always be a roof over their head and food on their table.  Driving down one seldom used route one afternoon, I had to slow down to miss a mother and her young children who were in the middle of the street with brooms.  I slowed as I passed with my window open and asked the mother the obvious question.  “What are you doing?”

Her answer was telling.  “We're cleaning the street.  It's dirty.”  And she wasn't just cleaning the portion in front of her house; she and the kids were sweeping the entire block.  I thanked her for her service before continuing on and thought about the wonderful people we had in Border City, people who seemed satisfied to live a simple life.  It seems that sometimes in life, tragedy can bring rewards.  The N’davalites had thought to destroy us, reduce us to ashes so to speak.  But we rose up from the ashes to become one people.  When people are united in mind and body, there is no telling what they can accomplish.  The greatest thing the N’davalites gave us was a common purpose and the camaraderie that we now shared.  There was no time to focus on differences in color, culture, politics or anything else that just a few years earlier had divided us.  Humans can be so selfish, but it seemed that even selfishness had been put on a back burner.  Some would have called us true communists, for we shared everything and worked for the good of the whole.  It reminded me of the early Christians who held everything in common.   Maybe it was money that had divided us.  If I were lucky, I wouldn't have to be here to see our happy little society return to the days of the past.

Section 3: Return to Border City

True to his word, LX returned a few days later, informing us that the others had left, and that it was now safe to move about without fear.  The next part of his plan was for us to move back to Border City where we would begin constructing ships to protect ourselves and also to punish those who were responsible for the attack on our planet.  Leaving the safety of this place that had been our home for a couple of years was difficult.  There had been something about living here that had turned us into a real family.  We had each lost so much as individuals and had been forced to lean upon one another for support during those hard times, but if what LX said was true, there was little we could do in our present location to accomplish the task before us.  We needed more space, more food, and more accommodation than this wild place could provide. 

As the group packed up their important possessions, I wondered why we had to move back to Border City.  True, it had some automotive plants, but there were several other cities that also had plants and they were almost in a straight line along the same highway.  On LX’s next visit we discussed this issue.  Our decision was to put the main group initially in Border City and later send work crews to the other locations so that the ships could be built in the least amount of time.  This would allow us to make use of eight facilities, including those across the border.  We would hunt for two more sites to complete the ten or eleven ships that LX had in mind, plus the many scout and attack ships to accompany what he called the battle cruisers and the one, all-powerful mother ship that'd be the command vessel.  Then we'd be in a position for defense or attack, whichever we decided.

***

It was bitter-sweet being back in town.  I had spent most of my life here, working living, loving.  I was born here, went to school, and made many friends.  Most were gone now.  There was no mother, father or wife and children to talk to.  Every familiar building or structure brought with it memories of previous adventures.  There was that business where that young man had been caught in the act trying to break open a safe.  What had they said in the paper?  While trying to get the safe open, the young fellow had handed the flashlight to his friend standing behind him.  Only, it wasn’t his friend, it was a police officer.  His friends had all fled.  Some crook that kid turned out to be.  There was the burned out factory where an arsonist had destroyed a tenant’s life work with a single match and a gallon of gasoline.  There was the old movie theatre where we'd attended on Tuesdays for half price.  We'd never missed a Sci-Fi flick; now we were living one. 

There was the park where I'd played as a youngster.  I could still remember splashing in the shallow wading pool and its tall fountain in the middle spewing cold sprays of water on a hot, summer afternoon.  The parks department shut the pools down eventually, for either sanitary reasons or maybe broken glass.  It was eventually filled in with dirt.  There were the swings that we all had enjoyed.  I remembered that one boy who thought that jumping from the swing when he had it up as high as he could get it was a thrill.  I don’t recall how long he was in a cast while his ankle mended after colliding with a tree, but I never emulated that trick.

There was an old cola bottling plant in town, and the company would bring busses to the park to pick up kids and take them for a tour of their plant.  On a hot day, this was a real treat, because the plant gave every child a sparkling cold bottle to drink.  Afterwards, they bussed us back to the park where we continued to play.  Our parents hadn’t needed to sign permission slips.  For that matter, they didn’t even know we'd gone until we told them later. 

I remembered the old coal fired trains that sped along the tracks spewing columns of white smoke over the field where we played ball.  In that same field, English gentlemen would play a cricket game on Sunday afternoons.  There were the ditches beside the track that we accessed through a hole in the fence.  Here we were able to collect pollywogs in glass jars we borrowed from our mothers’ pantries.  We had put nails on the tracks when we saw a train coming in the distance.  Afterwards, we had searched for the little swords created between the engine’s gigantic wheels and the iron rails.  At other times, the flattened metal was a penny.

My old house was nearby.  On Sunday afternoons the family had set up a table in the living room where we ate sirloin steak, potatoes and an escarole or that bitter endive salad as we watched war documentaries narrated by Walter Cronkite on the black and white television.  It was a regular celebration.  Mom had worked in the meat department of a major grocery chain during those early years, and knew how to pick out the best cuts of steak.

And Mom was a very good cook.  After she quit work and took up more home making, I would come home on a Friday after school to the smell of freshly baked bread, cookies, pie or other tasty delights.  Other times, Mom cooked her famous pot roasts.  The smell of the searing meat and fat turned me off, but later, as we sat around eating the finished product I couldn’t get enough.  Mom always took a sharp knife which she used to make deep slits in the meat, and into these, she shoved several cloves of garlic.  After I began to attend a college out of town, I would return home on a weekend to find that Mom had made up her special roast.  One time, while we were eating in the living room, watching TV, Mom went back into the kitchen to find that our family dog had climbed up on a chair and helped himself to the rest of the roast.  How disappointing that was!   

I had played in the sand box in the back yard, under my parent’s bedroom window, singing happily to myself, even when alone.  And they made really good toys back in those days.  Inside that bedroom, I had slept in my parent’s bed, sick with who knew back then.  I only knew that it had gone on for weeks, vomiting, sweating, weakness.  The doctors didn’t know what to make of it, but eventually, I got better and whatever it had been was left well behind, as I grew up strong and healthy.

There was the shed, back by the alley.  Dad had made some alterations to the building that didn't have a positive effect on its shape.  Like many newlyweds, Mom and Dad didn't have a lot of money and so, instead of buying more coal when needed, Dad thought he could remove a few boards from the shed.  The shed eventually took on a list that had the appearance of a sinking ship.  But Dad kept all his tools locked up there.  That shed was where I had worked on my grade eight science project.  It didn’t look very nice, but it worked and to my amazement, (I had been a bit embarrassed to bring it to school for not only was it rough looking, but all I had to conceal it was an old potato sack), the teacher loved it and wanted me to enter it in the school’s science fair. Unfortunately, although I did sand and varnish my project, a tiny wire had broken and I wasn't able to locate the problem until after the fair was over.

My older brother and I had shared bunk beds in the tiny bedroom.  Sometimes, I would attach sheets to the springs of the upper bunk and creating rooms, like a house in the lower level.  At other times during the night, my brother would scare me by telling me that some monster called the Boogeyman was in the closet, or under the bed, driving me under the blankets.  This was not a problem during the winter, as the room was cold, but during the summer, our house became very hot and stayed that way most of the night, so covering the head then was not the most convenient thing to do.  One way to deal with the problem during the summer was to close the closet door securely and check under the bed before climbing in.  However, if LX was telling us the truth, the Boogeyman had left the building for good.

The first order of business, at least for those of us from Border City, was to bury what was left of our family.  As a group, we had gone to each of the homes or locations where our loved ones had been, gathered up their clothing and taken these to the cemetery on the outskirts of town.  We dug several small holes, large enough to hold each person's apparel, then after a short service we interred them and placed wooden crosses at each site.  It helped bring a certain amount of closure to our grief.  Later, Lise occasionally asked me to take her back to the cemetery to visit her parents.  And judging by the condition of the grass, I figured that Lise and I were not the only visitors.

LX's friends had employed their tiny ships to scour the continents to locate and retrieve as many survivors as possible.  Getting folk to enter a craft of those who had once tried to kill them was not easy and took much time, but eventually the cyborgs were able to win the hearts of most, leaving very few behind to fend for themselves.  Today, we were building a new civilization, and with the help of LX, we were growing into a unified family.  Unlike those people of days long ago, who had attempted to build a tower to heaven after the Noachian flood, whose languages had been changed, causing them to spread out across the planet, this day’s people, diverse in origins, and impacted by yet another terrestrial disaster of sorts, were becoming one in purpose and language.  LX had insisted that English be the language of the land, that there had to be a unified language in order to accomplish what had to be done.  This was no time to squander our energy arguing about ethnic diversity.  These differences must be left behind, in the world that was.  There would be no multilingualism.  The instruments on board our future ships would be in one language only, a language that all would have to understand.  Instructions would be in English.  While it would have been nice to teach the children to read and write their mother tongues, it was now a luxury that Earth could ill afford.  In order to remember the history of our planet, those who were capable, began the long tedious job of translating as much of their cultures’ works as possible into English. 

As was to be expected, not all appreciated the new order of things, but by and large, most accepted the situation as the only alternative to the status quo.  And, because most of the survivors were now widowed or otherwise single, finding a mate of the same culture and language with so few to choose from was nearly impossible anyway, so a common language made sense as did interracial marriages or relationships.

So, we had begun with a language school.  Instruction was intense.  Initially, I was the head teacher, the program designer, but without the help of others, we wouldn't have been successful.  My former students and Dr. Manning as well as survivors from other English speaking countries all had their part to play in teaching this diverse group the finer points of English.  We did not concern ourselves with accents, the unique way in which various countries pronounced their words.  The rule was, “Any English as long as it is "English Only" and understandable.”  It was tough going for some, particularly the older ones, but after a few months, obvious progress had been made.  Some who had taken English as a second language in their own country were the first to be able to master the basics, and we put these to work immediately teaching those at the beginner levels.  This did not mean that they stopped their own lessons, just that they now had an opportunity to use it.

At first, rather than choose homes at random throughout the city, most were located in various apartment complexes that we felt would serve the needs of most of the survivors who would be remaining in Border City to work.  It was important for several reasons.  It was reasonably close to the job.  It was close to a school where those who needed the language training could learn in a structured environment.  It was close to a store where we would stock most of the things that we needed, both nutritionally and otherwise.    Everyone was transported to and from work by bus.  There were several of these around town that still worked and had a lot of fuel on board. (Besides, we were quite capable to getting the gasoline out of the storage tanks.  We could thank the N’davalites for having no interest in these.)  Our store would be stocked at the direction of my minister of acquisitions.  This meant that whoever held this post, would scour the city for supplies that were still fit to eat or otherwise something that a person could use in their house.

Daily, scout ships brought more people to Border City.  LX's original calculations of the number of world-wide survivors was incorrect.  As time progressed and Border City grew in size, the former solution to housing proved useless.  Some folk enjoy living close to their neighbours, while others prefer to have a place of their own, and with so many single family residences available, the majority soon won out and took to the homes. 

***

It was during the spring of that first year back in Border City that Lise, Carol, LX and I got together for a night together to celebrate our wedding anniversary.  Finding the perfect gift for the perfect wife was not too difficult.  I knew the location of all the jewelry stores in town and took advantage of that fact.  Lise was delighted with my choice of a genuine pearl necklace.  I had picked up other items such as rings and bracelets, but hid these around the house where I was sure she wouldn't find them.

Carol, being the practical person she was, put one of those fancy gift bags on the table out of which she pulled a pair of satin sheets.  When I saw them I immediately wanted to make the bed.  I'd heard wonderful stories about them.  Looking at Lise, I noticed that she seemed a little uncomfortable.  I assumed correctly, that her mind was on the bedroom at that moment as well.   

The real gift came from LX.  He placed two small boxes on the table, one for Lise and the other for me.  I let Lise open hers first.  Whatever it was, appeared to be a sort of odd shaped jewel and was suspended by a gold chain that LX said was to be worn around the neck.  I gave LX a quizzical look.  He said nothing but indicated with his head and eyes that I should open my gift as well.  Inside was an identical object.  I put it around my neck and let it dangle.  “Thanks,” I said, not knowing what else to say, considering that I had absolutely no idea what the present was.

“Take them off, both of you.”  LX had a big grin on his face.  “You don’t know what these are, do you?”

“Well, now that you mentioned it, no.  I am assuming that they are a piece of jewelry.”

“In that you are correct.  But they are not just any jewelry.”

“You stole them from Fort Knox?”

“No man.  It’s gold they store at Fort Knox, remember?  Now hand them to me.”

“So, what is this Indian Giver time?”  I handed my chain back to LX, while Lise clung to hers a little longer.

When LX had both pieces of jewelry in his hands he said, “Watch this.”  He twisted the two pieces carefully around one another, like two combs entwining.  Suddenly, the object in the middle glowed.  As I looked closely, it appeared as if there were a hologram of both Lise and me where the jewel had been. 

“That’s incredible, LX.  Where’d you get something like that?”

“Yes, LX.   I love it.  Where did you get that?”  It was Lise’s turn to be curious.  And then I realized that although it was a lovely gift, it was also something to raise questions.  But LX was quick on his feet.

“I made this from jewelry I found in my travels and with the help of a gentleman from the orient.  It is amazing isn’t it?  The idea is that you each wear your own piece of the object and from time to time take it off and put it together.”

“Why thank you very much LX.  We’ll both treasure these.”  And I slipped mine back around my neck.

“But how does it work?” both women wanted to know. 

“I haven’t any idea,” was LX’s answer and for sure, a huge lie.

“Where’s the man who helped make it?”  It was Carol alone this time.

“I had to leave him in Taiwan.  He was an old man and didn’t want to move.  I never told anyone, but there were a few cases like that.  I go back and check on him once in a while to make sure he’s okay.”

“I’d like to see him sometime,” Carol persisted. 

“I’ll take you some time,” LX promised.  But I knew it was a promise he'd never keep.   

***

We stopped thinking of LX as an L and an X, a couple of roman numerals, shortly after returning to Border City and gave him the same sounding name but with a couple more letters thrown in - Elex. We also gave him a last name.   It made him appear more human, at least on paper.  But it was not an easy task coming up with something suitable.  I had thought of Emm, but realized that that was just an extension of LX, as in LXM, more roman numerals.  Also the thought struck me that he could be Mr. Oldman, for he was indeed quite old, but again, people might just start calling him Old Man, and I didn’t like the sound of that either.  How about Smith?  Nope, too common.  I was sitting on my couch one evening when Slim attacked me, ready to play.  “What do you want, you fat slob?” I insulted him.  He barked a couple of times, and I realized that he wanted me to take him for a walk, something both of us needed. 

As we trudged along, I began telling him about the name problem.  “Slim, old buddy, I need a name for Elex.  Got any ideas?”

As if to answer, he looked up at me and cocked his head to one side, as if to say, “I don’t understand.  Could you repeat that?”

I started to think of Slim and how we had named him.  I began to go over ideas in my head, returning to my earlier attempts at a name.  “Slim, fat.  Lise warned me about you.  You sure aren’t living up to your name.  Old man, young man.  Perhaps Elex doesn’t have to live up to his name either.  I never heard of Youngman as a last name before, but I have heard of Young.  Robert Young, the actor, and Loretta Young, actress.  And now, Elex Young, the old man from N’davala.  Perfect!  Let’s go tell Elex right away.” And with that, I changed our direction and headed for Elex’s place, hoping that he'd be there, because there was a good chance that he was elsewhere.  “Thanks, Slim.” And at the sound of his name, Slim raised his head once more giving me that quizzical look as we continued along.

These days, Elex and Doctor Manning were frequently seen together.  Considering her confession to me, I thought that odd, but realized that Elex was no normal human and could be a very sensitive individual.  From time to time, when we had the opportunity to visit, we men would talk about our ladies.  Then, one evening, Elex expressed a particularly deep interest in the Doctor, going on about her intelligence, good looks, her kind and generous personality, everything a man could ask for in a woman.  Frequently as we chatted, it was difficult to talk about personal things, as Elex tended to dominate the conversations.  On this occasion however, he went on and on.  It was Carol this and Carol that.

 I was in a bit of shock.  I wanted to shut him up, to share what Carol had shared with me.  It was difficult to let him continue, but I didn’t want to betray Carol.  After all, you just don’t go around telling everyone, “Hey, my friend here is a lesbian.”  Carol was a warm human being and my good friend, but Elex had to know before he got himself in so deep that he might do something really stupid, let alone have to suffer from a broken heart. He didn’t really have a heart, but he still had feelings. Who knew what a love sick N’davalite puppy might do.  “Elex, you need to know something about Carol.”

“I already know everything I need to know,” was his reply, made with the love blinded appearance of a sixteen year old human.  It would've been comical to see him like this, if it hadn't been so serious and he wasn't so…well, really old.  Elex, the one who had become my best friend next to Lise, was in trouble.  I had to help. 

“You probably don’t know this,” I stated.  I paused, searching for a kind, diplomatic way to break the news, but coming up empty on that account, decided to just say it.  “Carol is a lesbian,” and just in case he didn’t know what that meant, I added, “She doesn’t like men, only women.  She’s a dead end for a long term adult relationship with a man.  She will not fall romantically in love with you, Elex.”

“I know.  She told me all that,” Elex said matter of factly, then added, “What a challenge, eh?”

“For all your intelligence, Elex, you really can be dumb like the rest of us,” I thought to myself, then spoke aloud, “What a challenge?  Elex, do you know what you're saying?  Do you know what a Cul de Sac is?  How about end of the road.  Snowball’s chance in Hell?  Elex, you don’t have the keys to start her car.  You don’t have the password to her computer, let alone the one to her heart.  You think you can overcome this problem?  Elex, get out while you can.”  I dropped my head and closed my eyes.  He knew and yet he didn’t care.

“Warren, I know that she prefers women, yet she hasn’t taken one for a mate, so all things considered, she's still alone and needs company.   I’m willing to wait.  I have lots of time.  And in the mean time, she still gives me a hug and the occasional kiss on the cheek, because she appreciates me as a human...a real human.  I have really strong feelings for her.  AND, I’m a patient man.”

"If it isn't too personal, could you fill me in a little more?  What actually went down between you two?"

"Okay, I'll give you the long version.  I had noticed her around and thought I'd ask her out.  Her immediate answer was 'No!'  I had to admit, I was taken aback by her speedy response.  When I asked her why, she told me I was wasting my time.  To which I answered that spending time with such a beautiful woman could never be a waste of my time.  That's when she sprang it on me.  No beating around the bush.  She just came out with it.  'I'm a lesbian."  I had to smile at that, because I had an immediate answer, too.  'And I'm a cyborg.'  She just looked at me with, 'Look you silly man, I know that's a lot of BS.'  But before the night was over, I convinced her."

"How'd you manage to do that?"

"Well picture this.  I'm standing in the middle of her living room, stark naked and Carol is listening to every joint in my body from my head to my toes…"  Elex notices the expression of unbelief written across my face and quickly adds, "…for the sounds of my gears and servos.  Every once in a while, I keep hearing, 'shit, it's true’.  Then she stands up and takes a really good look at me, kind of like a meat inspector or a pervert, take your choice.  She tells me that she's never seen such perfect symmetry before in a human and I tell her that that's what I'd been trying to tell her, that I wasn't a human.  Then she tells me, 'Get your clothes on and sit down.  We need to talk.'  She asked me why I'd want to spend time with her, knowing I wasn't ever going to get around the bases.  I told her that she was beautiful, and I liked hanging around good looking people; she was intelligent and I liked to have intelligent conversations; she was funny, and I often needed someone to laugh with.  Then she says, 'Just remember this, Elex.  You'll never get so far as first base.  And tomorrow, you are getting an X-ray.’”  

"Wow!" was all I could say.

"And I've been seeing her regularly since." 

“That's quite a story. And, you must be a very patient man, indeed, Elex.”  If Elex really was willing to wait for eternity, and had the patience to do so, for he certainly had the body to almost last that long, he might make a perfect close friend to Carol who would eventually learn to trust him as her closest possible male companion.  She may never love him as a husband and wife normally do, but there is a kind of love that surpasses even Eros, that these two could share.  “And, you are a lucky man,” I encouraged him, “Most women, so I’ve heard anyway, would prefer a man who just cuddled, so if you can restrain yourself and confine your excitement to the fine art of cuddling, you may do all right after all.  Good luck to you Elex.”   And then I thought of Lise who would be at her nightly English classes, teaching the new acquires from distinct cultures and languages from around the globe.  Just how did she describe how she was getting along with her students?  Frustratingly rewarding?  Was she familiar with the term, oxymoron?

***

Univited Guests: Part Two

I wanted to speak and tell him about how scared we…rather I was at the time, how I wasn’t sure how much we could trust someone who let other people die, but before I could form some words, he began again.

“There's so much to tell you all, but I want you to know that there are others.  You are not alone."  At the mention of others, all eyes were fastened on the speaker.  "World-wide, there are a few thousand.  Fortunately, your gene pool is diverse.  That will benefit the repopulation problem.  Now that I know about this colored material, I'll share that with the others.  If they'll let me.  You are relatively safe now.  The transports have departed for home.  Only a few scouts are left and will soon join the fleet.  A word of caution.  If you need to travel, as much as possible, do so at night.  The scouts do not fly at night and rest in orbit around the planet.  If you must travel during the day, keep yourselves as small and inconspicuous as possible.  I see some motorcycles.  That'd be considered small, not completely invisible, but less so than your vans.”

Doctor Manning, who'd been quiet all this time, spoke next.  “Sorry to change the subject, but what have you been doing all this time?  How'd you live among us and no one caught on?”

“Well, we didn’t live in caves,” LX replied, causing a brief bit of laughter among the group.  “Actually, you might be surprised.  One of my last jobs was working at NASA.  I'd like to think that I was quite helpful getting the first North Americans on the moon.”

“Wow!”  Tammy reacted with awe.

“But the Russians beat us into space,” Bruce injected.

“True,” LX continued, “but that was because of my friend here.”  LX nodded to the nearest N’davalite companion, who suddenly began to sport a silly grin.  “Perhaps I understood the conditions better than my compatriot, but I was a little afraid for the West, if the Soviets gained complete supremacy in space.  There was a certain jealousy between the two great countries, but during the years of communism, they were much more dangerous.  You have no idea how close you were to a nuclear winter and annihilation.”

“What do you know about that?” I asked.

“Having our own people in the various countries, speaking the language with perfection.  Having impeccable credentials and intelligence, we've been able to infiltrate your planet’s governments completely and in so doing, knew what was afoot, to quote Sherlock Holmes.   Then things changed.  The Berlin wall fell.  Peace seemed to be within easy reach.  Even China became more open.  Now there is a country that the world leaders needed to watch.  As a nuclear power with an unlimited supply of cannon fodder, a war with that nation would have ended things immediately.” 

LX paused for a few seconds and looked at his friends.  I took the opportunity to return to our original subject.  “Earlier, you spoke of scout ships and then only during the day, but the first night of the invasion, there were several ships in the air after dark.  So how come they aren’t flying them now?”

“Scouts are not piloting attack ships.  Those who fly attack ships are on duty twenty-four/seven, as you would say.  The attack ships are long gone, parked in the hangar bays of the mother ships.  The scouts will land and search you out, but only if they see you.  There are only a few, but you never know.   Anyway, you have nothing to fear during the night, you'll be safe.”

“I was wondering whether I should mention this or not before you spoke, but I've noticed that other than today, no attack has been perpetrated on your enemies, here at least.  This has either been a wise decision on your part or just plain good luck.  In any case, if a ship lands and a scout disappears, this will cause alarm and others will come searching for him.  They'll not stop until they find you and they will also relay the situation to the ships that have already left.  They are not interested in food.  They just don’t want any survivors, witnesses in other words.  So, do not take any action that'll draw attention to yourselves.  If you find that you have to kill them, then you'll need to destroy their ship somehow, to make it look like an accident.  There'll always be two people on board, so don’t be lured into an ambush by a lone pilot.”

“Understood,” I said.  “Thank you.”

“The maneuver that you saw us perform before we landed is our signature to you.  Any ship that lands in this manner will be friendly.  Otherwise, beware.  We will let you know when all danger is past and from what we have seen, it will be very soon, maybe just days.” 

“There are about six of us who can stay without detection.  Some of my other friends will have to go back, otherwise questions will be raised.  One other thing, we will help you, but you'll have to move from this place soon.  Our intention is to provide you with technology to protect yourself and to seek out others of your species who've been the victims of my people.  And believe me, there are plenty.”

Alone, LX and I spent the rest of the night together, while he explained to me where he had come from, and why he was so willing to be of assistance to a few humans.  LX was not flesh and blood.  He was a cybernetic creation, not human, although he did have several human qualities. He made me swear to keep this information secret, which I did.  He was an unlimited resource of information, having the accumulated knowledge of his race stored in billions of memory banks so small that they made the human mind seem gigantic in proportion sort of like the difference between a large capacity USB drive and an IBM computer of the 50's.  One point that was of extreme importance to us all, he was quite unlike those fictional captains of starships who lived by some contrived notion that they could not share technology with those lower down on the evolutionary time line.  For this, I was even more appreciative.

As day dawned, LX and his companions took their leave, needing to be somewhere other than here with us where they could tip off the scouts to our presence.  But LX promised to return as soon as it was safe.