Chapter 26
When morning came Lilith had been one of the first few awake, but had pretended to be sleeping still; she didn't want to face her thoughts or her memories. Near one o'clock, it began to rain, in which case Lilith lifted her head and looked outside. She felt Ratchet shift beneath her, but she didn't bother feinting sleep—chances were he had known she was waking up even before she did.
"Finally awake."
Lilith shook her head, smiling a little, "No. I'm still sleeping. It's just... I've never seen the rain before."
Again he shifted slightly, silently rolling back and forth, "It feels good." There was a slight pause, "You should get out and enjoy it."
She shook her head, smile fading away. If she went out, the others would know she was awake—she didn't want that just yet. She got the feeling she would be treated like a child if she got out. Normally she wouldn't mind being "babied" but there were times she didn't want it. It was fine if everyone was happy and light hearted, but in the serious moments she didn't want to be protected...she wanted to be strong. But if those around her treated her like she needed extra care and consideration, she would only feel that was how it should have been.
"It's so beautiful," she said at last, studying the now very wet environment around her.
True, the clouds were gray and she couldn't see the sun or the blue sky, but the green contrasted so vibrantly she didn't think she'd ever see something so purely green ever again. The rain was life; even if she couldn't see it or hear its soothing pitter-patter, she knew she would be able to feel it.
"You know," Ratchet told her after a stretch of silence, "I bet later on if you ask Bumblebee he'll take you and Sam to play in the mud."
She couldn't help but imagine not just Bumblebee, but Ratchet, Ironhide and Optimus rolling around in a hugemud pit like a group of synchronized swimmers. Smiling she decided to keep the mental image to herself. "Maybe later...I'm sleeping right now after all."
Ratchet chuckled when she turned over and closed her eyes. "Very well."
It was two o' clock PM before she officially got up and, even then, that was only thanks to the arrival of a familiar motorcycle transformer.
Anxiously, Geneva confronted Cosmosraze, demanding, "What took so long?"
After a quick transformation, the Decepticon shrugged, flinging clods of mud from his armor in a very absentminded way. "We ran into a few problems. The humans found her friends so she persuaded me to help her carry out a rescue mission."
"Casualties?" Geneva requested at once.
His optics dimmed slightly, regretful to report the outcome. Not that he cared about them; he simply knew she would be distressed to hear his news. "Less than half survived. The humans now know there are more of them here than first thought. Are you two ready?"
Nobody had to ask who else would be going with Geneva. However, Lilith wasn't sure if she should go with them, but before she could even give an answer, Geneva shook her head.
"She's not coming with."
The ridges around his optics narrowed. "That is not your decision, sparkling. Lilith, would you accompany us?"
She remained silent. If there was ever an opportunity to get out and see the world, and actively search for a solution to her problem, this was a good one. After what happened with Laurent, she was thinking it might even be a good idea to go with them, if only to save her human friends from any more pain.
She kept her eyes lowered, unable to look at her Autobot family. "Where to?"
The Decepticon regarded both Lilith and Geneva for a minute before answering, "To fight for your freedom and the freedom of any other alien species. To make them regret ever trying to cage us. Any of us."
'But...Optimus...Ironhide...Ratchet...Bumblebee...' She wanted to stay with them; and should the time come, she wanted it to be them to guide her through the hardships she would have to face to gain her freedom. She trusted Cosmosraze with her life, but she felt he was too cavalier with the life and death of others.
"I cannot. I'm sorry, Cosmos. Though, if you ever need me...I'll be there in an instant," she promised. He nodded, but remained silent, sensing she had more to say, which was true. "I feel I should be thanking you. You and Geneva. While I don't like the fact you've killed...you're fighting for my freedom. For me. Thank you."
Geneva chose then to speak up, but kept her eyes lowered, unwilling to reveal much more emotion than what her voice conveyed, "Because we...we love you." Cosmosraze took that emotional moment to transform back into his alt. mode.
Lilith smiled and watched Geneva mount the seemingly normal motorcycle, her eyes misting over at those few words the girl had spoken. "Please take care of yourselves."
The two stopped in front of Lilith, choosing to remain silent. Lilith patiently waited, and was consequently surprised when Geneva said nothing but reached out and pulled Lilith close, tightly hugging her. "I have a secret that I will tell you when this is all over. Let's promise to survive to see that time... But should circumstances dictate that I break that promise," she looked at Optimus, "Optimus will tell you what I want you to know." The great leader nodded in silent agreement.
Cosmosraze slightly revved his engine impatiently, despising the sentimental moments for more than one reason.
"I promise." Lilith swore, stepping away from them. Before they had even left the property Lilith had already turned her back, unable to watch more of her friends leave.
An hour passed, and the rain continued. Lilith was left to herself, sitting on the large boulder she often sat on when she wasn't taking a bath but wanted to be close to the water...in the rain it sounded so peaceful. She was thankful her friends let her be by herself, but equally happy that Sam had ordered her to hug him—like she had ordered him to do days earlier.
She had been painting her nails ('Optimus Blue', she called it) and humming made-up lullabies to herself when the light footfalls of a human alerted her that her solitude had been interrupted. She didn't have to look to know it was Laurent; he and Sam walked slightly differently. Her humming silenced when the man stood before her, giving her the most tortured look she'd ever seen.
Sighing softly, Lilith slid down the rock to stand facing him, hoping he would say something first.
He didn't have to. All he had to do was hand her a flower he'd spent most of the morning suffering through a killer hangover to search for, and was rewarded with a tearful embrace.
"I'm so sorry," they whispered to each other so their words overlapped, in a mismatched pattern.
The carefully constructed mask Laurent had designed to control his emotions was rapidly breaking, and there was nothing he could do to stop it or the words that just seemed to spill out of his mouth of their own accord. "Forgive me, Lilith. Please forgive me."
Though he didn't want to face her and therefore didn't want to let her out of the hug, she pulled away to look him in the face. He had already received forgiveness, but before she let him know that, she wanted to know, "What happened? You treated me like I did it..."
His eyes shut tight, a grimace knotted onto his face. "He killed her; shot her. Then killed himself. I couldn't...I couldn't help but feel if I hadn't been here, I might have been able to help. Blaming you was easier than blaming myself. I don't know if you can understand that."
"I can." She succeeded smiling for him. "I forgive you Laurent. I always will, as long as you ask. Just promise me...you won't say anything like that to me again. Even if it's how you feel."
"Never again," he swore. His eyes were sincere enough, leaving her no reason to doubt him. Still, however, she remained silent for a moment. Now that she knew what he had gone though that night she understood his actions a lot better. Even at that moment he was hurting. 'Watching his best friend kill his wife then commit suicide... How terrible...'
Lilith smiled brighter for him, taking his hand for him to follow. "Let's go back now. Ratchet said that Bumblebee would take us to play in the mud if we asked." There was no sense in being depressed...if she reminded him of what had happened by treading softly around him, he would never recover; whereas, if she acted like everything was normal, maybe he would take it better.
Sure enough, though it was weak, he smiled at her.
From the moment the massacre in the White House was discovered, it was a race to get the Secret Service to the latest, of a considerable few—in just a few hours—to be president. Jane Curtis happened to be that person. Stuck at home with the flu, she had been watching the DVD menu screen for Lilo and Stitch (and had been for the past 45 minutes), feeling too brain dead to even reach for the remote to hit stop, when the doorbell rang. Her head barely twitched, her eyes looking at the doorway leading to the entrance hall.
The large and equally lazy Basset Hound lying on her feet lifted his droopy head to let out two short howls before a longer third one. "Go get 'em, Mr. Pib." With a flying leap of short legs and floppy ears, Mr. Pib ran for the entrance hall, where he continued to "brwaooor" at the door.
Grinning stupidly, Jane rolled over, turning her back to the cute (and fluffy) alien on TV. She loved Mr. Pib. He was so great at sounding much bigger and meaner than he actually was. Every time the doorbell rang he would jump up and run out to bark at whomever it was at the door. Who needed a security system when a dog worked just as well?
Her eyes had just closed when the bell rang again. It was too late for visitors. "Go 'way." She grumbled. Her voice sounded dry.
Once more, the bell rang, but this time was accompanied by several loud raps on the door. Sensing her visitor had no intention of giving up, she gathered her willpower and slowly got to her feet and made her way to the door. "Pibs. Go lay down. Go!" While she pulled her bathrobe close to her, Mr. Pib trotted back to his spot on the couch.
On the other side of the door, waited only one man she was familiar with and another she knew nothing about. "Can I help you?" Wearily, she eyed the two extra men waiting patiently by the government plated SUV.
'This can't be good...'
"Ma'am, sorry to interrupt. We have important matters that need discussing. This is Reginald Simmons, and I'm Tom Banachek, Public "
Irate and freezing, Jane's patience was especially low. " Relations. I know who you are."
"...Not exactly, ma'am. May we come in?"
She opened the door, waving them inside. The two men crossed the threshold and were immediately presented with two bone-shaped cookies. "They're for Mr. Pib. He's territorial...unless the intruders have treats."
The men followed Jane to where she had been nesting. As expected, the calico colored dog started to verbally defend his territory. Once his owner's arms wrapped around him, he quieted a little, settling for a throaty growl that sounded more like a grumble. Once both men had presented the dog with his treats the dog was completely silent, contentedly licking his chops.
Jane went straight to the point. "Excuse my lack of hospitality—you haven't caught me at the best time—so what do you want?"
As rehearsed, Tom was the one to speak, his voice serious. "This afternoon, the White House was breached. All of your successors in the Presidential List of Succession were assassinated." He paused to let the solemn information sink in; a good thing too. If she hadn't been sitting down already, her knees would have buckled.
"All of them?" she whispered. Receiving a nod, she took the opportunity to continue. "Have we got them? Do we know why they did it?" The two men shared a look, rousing her urgency. "Do you even know who did it?"
Finally, Simmons spoke up. "It's complicated, ma'am."
Jane's eyebrows lifted. "Surely not too complicated. A suspect and a motive. Simple."
Banachek produced a file from a briefcase Jane hadn't noticed until then and handed it to her. The folder was classified Top Secret. "The confirmed perpetrator's name is Geneva. I suggest you look through that before we continue."
She reached for her glasses sitting on the coffee table and opened the file. The first page was a picture of a young girl no more than ten years of age. Hesitating, she looked up at the two guests. They merely motioned back to the file, urging her to continue. Taking a deep breath, she decided to humor them. The file was detailing what looked almost like the profile of a typical soldier from their skills to achievements and personality...except the other half of the profile seemed to be a report for an experiment and the "soldier" the profile described was only one years old. The female's status was: dead.
Once she had finished scanning through the file, she stared at Banachek and Simmons, studying them with a piercing gaze. Despite her illness clouding her mind, she still had the ability to read between the lines. "You're telling me we've been creating soldiers and that a dead—"she paused to check the date "—22 month old child succeeded in penetrating the White House's defenses and on top of that killed numerous people on the List of Succession? How is that even possible?"
Banachek looked her in the face, and what he said next made her stomach do a flop. "We're not alone in the universe."
Again, Jane went through the file in her hands, until she brought her had up to her mouth, staring wide-eyed at the men before her. "She's an alien? And we created her?"
Both men nodded. "Yes ma'am," answered Simmons.
A billion things were going through her mind that moment. After she got over the initial shock (and disbelief) of the situation, and pushed the gnawing questions aside, she couldn't help but feel slightly sick—her cold aside—and a little more than angry. 'We find proof of alien life, and the first thing humankind does is try to enslave them.'
"Whose bright idea was this?" She held the papers up before slapping them down on her coffee table. "Don't answer that—I probably don't want to know right now. Though, why is a question I'd love to have answered. What could be accomplished from this?"
Calmly, Simmons spoke up, "We've known about alien life on this planet for over a hundred years now. This one's classified under Class 2, the recently discovered. They look human, but smaller, and definitely stronger. We theorize they come from a planet with a stronger gravitational pull—to them Earth is as easy as walking on the moon. Class 1 is a whole other story." Simmons paused, allowing Banachek to produce yet another file.
Hesitantly, the woman accepted it from him, and opened it. She'd been expecting green men with large eyes, or maybe E.T. or something similar to Independence Day, or Star Wars—or those creatures in those video games her nephew liked to play. She wasn't expecting a metallic face that only vaguely resembled a human's. Though ice-filled in some of the crevices, it didn't change just how jagged and sharp it looked.
She flipped the page and saw the creature's body—and a man standing next to it. This thing was huge and decidedly dangerous looking. There were pictures of different ones marked with blue tabs. In those photos, the images weren't as neat, indicating they had been moving when the pictures were shot. They ranged in shapes and sizes—two yellow ones, a red and blue one, a black one, a silver one (which had been ripped in half)—
"They're cars!" She flipped through to the pictures with red tabs on them. Those aliens looked more like the first ice-crusted one...but like the silver one: dead...if they were even alive in the first place.
"Class 2 was discovered just fifteen years ago; a male." Banachek told her. "When more of Class 1 arrived on Earth three years ago, we began to prepare ourselves for possible hostilities. We didn't think it would be necessary but prepared anyway. Preparation has only just now finished. Once we found the female, we harvested their reproductive cells. Six of them have the training to help take down members of Class 1."
Jane sat there for a moment, taking the information in. Then, quite suddenly, she got up and marched out of the room. A minute later she returned with a glass filled with cranberry juice and raspberry vodka—not enough to even get her buzzed but just enough to relax her. "Alright. Tell me everything."
By the time their conversation had passed Jane was already losing that ultra relaxed feeling that came with the particular beverage that had been drunk. She'd hung onto every word; it turned out Tom Banachek "Public Relations" was really Tom Banachek "National Public Safety Propaganda Control". That meant, when it came down to aliens, he was the face lying to the public.
Jane verbally surmised the situation. "So...this whole Lilith situation...what you basically did was cover up two truths at the same time by calling her a terrorist. And now, because of that, we can't just let her go because that'll raise so many questions in the public."
"That," agreed Simmons, "and she's government property."
Jane said nothing to that, but didn't have to. The look on her face spoke volumes. The whole situation was wrong in her book, but though she wanted to find a peaceful solution to the problem, she couldn't think of a single thing that could resolve the issue.
Lovins go out to: Razorgaze, BrokenHeartAlchemist, ShadeShadow, and Rob Lockster
Hmm. Not much to say about this chapter. Review if you'd like to! Loves reviews- Oh! I've updated my picture of Lilith. Check it out if you want—though I recommend it; I didn't use a reference picture so what you see is what I see in my head.
Razorgaze - I hope ya like this chatper, Lady Razorgaze!
BrokenHeartAlchemist – Haha and to this day my computer still hates me for it. Hmm. I'm not sure about the plushie...but, I'll eventually have a pic for you of Cosmosraze. n.n I'll always take reader's suggestions into account. I may not always go for it, but chances are if you want something, I'll try to deliver it.
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