A Mother's Fear
A/N: First off, I just want to give a big thanks to everyone who read and commented, it really makes my day. So thanks! Now onto story related business; normally I try to post two installments at a time, but only one today. Sorry folks, but hey at least this is a long one. And it's the first prologue; I should try to keep up with the title. I introduce my version of the Alenko clan here, so there is a lot of semi-pointless exposition. Sorry.
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The black car was parked across the street again. This was the third time within a month. There was nothing remarkable about it; just a black compact with British Columbia plates and tinted windows. People were always parking in front of their house; they lived only a few blocks away from popular shopping district and the new beachfront. Sarah Alenko was many things, but she wasn't paranoid. Yet, something about that car disturbed her. She just knew that someone was inside it watching them—watching her.
Why though?
Biting her bottom lip Sarah tried to concentrate on preparing dinner. She was a very timid woman by nature and any solution she came up with to approach the problem required much more bravery than she had. Even the thought of standing at the window and giving the car a long, cold stare required more than she could muster. It was so much easier to be lulled by the sound of her knife against the cutting the board, and the ticking of the clock marking the seconds until Andrew came home.
By now, her husband would be in his truck driving home. All she had to do was wait. Andrew—stoic, realistic Andrew—would take care of the problem. He always knew what to do, and always did what was needed to be done. And in this case, it would be probably to chide her foolishness. He would look out the window and recognize the car as belong to the Seong's visiting son, or the new owner of the coffee shop down the block. Just ten more minutes until he came home.
She had to act as if nothing was wrong until then, for the sake of the children. Without turning around she asked as calmly as she could, "It's going to be dinner soon. Can you set the table?"
A grunt was all she got as a response. Oh, how she was not used to that sound. It was such a teenage boy sound. What ever happened to the little boy who used to talk her ear off? She looked over her shoulder to see her son, Kaidan, sitting at the kitchen table working on his math homework. He was at that awkward age of thirteen; clumsy, moody, with a cracking voice and growth spurts.
"Now?"
"Let me finish this problem." And that attitude; it seemed like he could only be sarcastic or snappish.
"I have to get your sister ready; can you stir the beans every few minutes as well?"
"Yeah, yeah."
In the living room two-year-old Tess was having her afternoon nap, asleep on her stomach with limbs akimbo and surrounded by toys. Tickling the bottom of her little foot, Sarah sang, "Mademoiselle from Armentières; Parley-voo."
The toddler twitched her foot and moaned in protest.
"Hasn't been kissed for forty years."
A single bleary brown eye opened, a mumble in toddler speech that sounded like, "I don't wanna." And as further protest, she rolled onto her side and into a little ball.
Moving her tickling up to her daughter's side, "Inky-pinky-parley-vous."
Tess suddenly squealed and laughed, her little feet kicking the air. At least someone in the household was in a good mood.
As she wiped the sleep from her daughter's eyes and straightened her hair, Sarah asked, "Help me pick up your toys before Daddy gets home."
"No!" That was Tess' favorite word. Sarah couldn't figure out if it was more irritating than Kaidan's constant cry of "mine" when he had been that age.
Sarah gave her daughter a playful dirty look, "Theresa, bad little girls don't get dessert."
Tess pouted but started to put the various plastic horses and dolls into the toy box.
In the living room there was a large picture window overlooked the ocean that hadn't been there fifteen years ago. For almost a hundred and fifty years, this house had been inland. And the view was not of a scenic beach, but of partially submerged houses and buildings. In its own way, it was beautiful. Only a few of them abandoned, the others renovated to be habitable. Andrew owned one of the companies in Vancouver that specialized in this underwater restoration. They would fortified the submerged levels into pillars that were slower to erode away, the adding of large floats to help support the weight, and if the client was wealthy enough underwater rooms. These buildings were connected to the mainland by a series of bridges and tunnels. In a few years they might have to make those kinds of changes to their house, but for now, they just had to pump out the basement every time there was a heavy rain.
It hadn't been Andrew's plan in life to be a contractor. He had been a career marine, a ranking officer, until the lost of his right arm. Even fitted with a prosthetic he had been forced with an honorable discharge. After they returned to their home city, he had just sort fell into this type of work. Though she would never admit it, Sarah was glad that he had been injured. The accident had occurred only a few months before the First Contact War. It had been hard enough for her being a military wife during peacetime.
There was the sound of a car door closing outside, then a second, and a third. Picking Tess up, Sarah hurried to look out the front door. Andrew was home, but across the street two men had exited out of the black car. The three of them were having a conversation, with Andrew making a motion towards the house. It appeared he was inviting them inside.
Tess waved at them.
Frowning at this turn of events, Sarah pulled away from the window and went to the kitchen. She put Tess in her booster seat and did the final checks of dinner. Everything was ready, just needed to be set out. She faced Kaidan, "We have some guests, can you give your sister dinner? Eat as well. Then go upstairs and finish your homework."
The front door opened and Andrew's baritone echoed from the hallway, "If you'll go into the living room, I'll fetch my wife."
"Is everything okay Mom? You sound worried."
"I'm fine, just probably a new client." She could tell that he didn't believe her.
Andrew appeared in the doorway, "Sarah, there are some men here to see us. Could you join us in the living room?" Like his wife, Andrew Alenko was soft-spoken. While Sarah's voice was from being timid, his was from an aloof and disciplined nature. The type of person who always thought out what they were going say. Much her family had been against their marriage, for it was a May-December relation. When they had been married Sarah had been twenty-one and Andrew forty-eight.
She nodded, "In a minute." She needed the time to mental prepare herself, "Kaidan, keep an eye on Tess if we're still busy. Just give her some coloring books so she stays quiet."
"I got it already."
A deep breath, a smoothing of the hair, a well practice warm smile, "Oh and I forgot there is some pudding in the fridge. Save some for your father." And with that, she crossed the hallway into the living room, leaving the door to the kitchen wide open.
And into what seemed like a movie. The two men could have come from any number of mafia vids. They were dressed in expensive suits and Italian shoes that they wore with comfort, as if they had been born into such finery. Their expensive appearances made her very aware of the toddler-spit stained blanket draped over the sofa, and the scuffed hockey skates in the corner.
The one nearest to her stood up and offered his hand, "Ma'am, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Robert Sharpe from the Conatix Industries." He was tall and slender with a smooth voice and handsome looks.
"Sarah Alenko, can I offer you anything to drink?" The handshake was professional, firm, and confident.
Sharpe motioned towards his partner, who was still sitting in the back of the room trying to look uninterested, "And this is Vladimir Temirkanov." Temirkanov was a large, beefy man with a military look and cold eyes. And an unnerving bulge under his jacket.
Sharpe was obviously the spokesman of the two, "No, thank you though. As I was telling your husband I'm here to offer your family an exciting opportunity." From his briefcase, he pulled out a pamphlet. Neither Sarah nor Andrew attempted to take it.
This was just a colonization offer. It wasn't common for corporations to be this bold with an approached, but it did occur. Especially to families involved in construction with military histories. With this conclusion, a floodgate of relief washed through Sarah. It made sense that they were being watched. No corporation wanted to be involved with a family with dirty laundry.
Andrew seemed to have come to same conclusion. He frowned and shook his head, "With all the problems here on Earth, why go to space where it is even worse."
Without a beat Sharpe kept up his smile, "I'm not here about colonization." He reoffered the pamphlet to Andrew, who took it with a sigh.
"Biotic Acclimation and Temperance Training?"
"BAat. It's a program that Conatix has just established out on Gagarin Station." At the blank looks he was receiving, Sharpe changed his strategy, "Do you know anything about biotics?"
Sarah shook her head, Andrew voiced their answer, "Nothing specific, just what been said on the news."
"Then you have heard of the international effort to track the emergence of human biotics."
"There must be some kind of mistake; neither Sarah nor I meet the qualification listed on the vids."
"Of course, as in all known human biotics are minors. And that is why we are here, to recruit youths for BAat."
"Kaidan." The whisper came to her lips as a faint, distant memory came to her mind.
She wasn't sure if he had heard her or not, but suddenly Sharpe's smile seemed predatory. "Your son was born in Singapore in 2151, correct?"
"Yes, I was assigned to a military base there."
"Such a tragedy. The crash and the element zero exposures, I mean. Your son was one of the lucky ones."
Sarah closed her eyes. Kaidan had always been healthy, but that little seed of doubt had always existed. Sleepless nights every time there was a nosebleed or a headache. So many days spent at hospitals, enduring countless tests.
Something new was pulled from the briefcase, sheets of shiny paper. Sharpe offered them to her and Andrew, "But the doctors were concerned. Your son had unexplained, seemingly benign non-cancerous nodes. An occurrence that appeared in small percentage of children exposed."
The papers were the MRI scans they had taken of Kaidan while they lived in Singapore. The nodes had been marked in red ink; she didn't remember them being so numerous.
Sharpe continued, "In several of these children minor telekinetic abilities have been documented but the connection was never made until we learned of biotics from aliens."
Andrew snorted, "You must forgive me. I have never been one to believe in such things."
Even with this open hostility, Sharpe kept up his smile and spiel, "I am not talking about what you see in the movies. For most even just moving a small rubber ball across the table is exhausting."
"For hundreds of years, people have been making those claims, only blaming it on ghosts." Andrew was too levelheaded to be anything but a skeptic when it came to anything paranormal or mystical.
"This isn't a group of charlatans trying to make money from the gullible. Rather a scientific study conducted by Alliance officials."
"So there is military involvement with this BAat of yours?"
"Minor. A few specialists who wish to observe biotic abilities for military application. The Alliance is very interested in biotics as soldiers after observing the skills of alien. They are considering offer biotics incentives for joining, including admission the N7 specialist training program at Arcturus or college scholarships."
"That much interest in such a worthless skill." Andrew leaned back in his seat, "Sounds like a waste of tax-payer's money."
"When surgical implants are added a human's skill is significantly improved."
Sarah couldn't help but squeak, "Surgical implants!" Her cheeks redden as the three men turned and looked at her. "That is, I mean, um. How dangerous are, are the implants?"
"The surgery is…invasive and side effects have been recorded, such as headaches, but it is a necessary step. Without the implants to regulate their abilities biotics may be liable to injury themselves."
"That is well and fine but you have yet to explain how any of this relates to our son." Andrew was clenching his jaw, obviously annoyed.
"As I explained, the nodes—"
Andrew cut him off, "Never mind the goddamned nodes. We have had those examined by some of the best goddamned doctors and not a single one of them ever said anything about fucking…superpowers."
Sharpe's smile become even more predatory, "It would appear that your wife would disagree with you Mr. Alenko."
Biting her lower lip, she looked away. It didn't surprise her that he would know about that incident, he seemed to know about everything else. "I always meant to tell you, Andrew. It was just…you see Kaidan was five and you were always gone on tours. And I just, I was at my wits end." The words weren't coming. They wouldn't. This was supposed to be her one little secret from him.
"Sarah, what are you talking about?"
"If I may," Sharpe answered instead, "On September 5th 2156, your son was admitted to the emergency room with a minor scalp laceration. While receiving stitches he demonstrated to a Dr. Seong Chan, and his mother, an ability to lift objects—without touching them. Specifically he levitated a small toy cat about a foot off the ground for almost thirty-second. And that hasn't been the only time, correct Mrs. Alenko?"
A dark scowl crossed Andrew's face, "What is he talking about Sarah?"
"Oh don't look at your wife like that. She never told a soul, even asked Dr. Chan not to say anything. Unfortunately, the good doctor can get quite talkative with the right persuasions. And I'm just speculating that there have been other incidents." Suddenly the silence presence of Vladimir seemed even more ominous. Just how far would these men go to get what they wanted?
He was right though, she could name at least ten different incidents of things moving by themselves. She had always ignored them; just assuming that it was her imagination. "Our son is normal." Sarah couldn't keep her voice from shaking; hot tears welled in her eyes.
"He is." Sharpe tried to put a hand on her arm reassuringly but Sarah flinched out of the way, "We at Conatix want biotics viewed as being no different than someone with blue eyes, or blond hair."
"You want to study him as if, as if he was some sort of freak!" Sarah pressed her fingers against her mouth, suddenly aware of how loud her voice had risen.
"Don't misunderstand. This is a training program with specialists, experts who have been training with biotics their entire lives."
"Aliens you mean." Andrew said disgustedly.
For just the briefest second Sharpe looked uncomfortable, "Yes." But quickly regained his composure, "You have to understand that there are no humans who fully understand how to control their abilities, let alone teach others."
"Is it for their sakes that program is being held out on Jump Zero then?"
"Partially, but also for the protection of the students."
"Protection against what?"
"People fear what they do not understand. How would your neighbors respond if they found out?"
From the way that he said the last part, Sarah was sure it was a threat, "You, you may be right. But why all the way in space?"
"Security purposes only. It may be along ways away, but it isn't as if your son will be alone. We already have twenty other recruits, many of them also from the Singapore exposure."
"Just a little awhile ago you referred to the recruits as students, is there going to be any kind of formal education offered?" Sarah almost gave herself whiplash spinning around to face Andrew. Was he actually considering their offer?
"Yes, we've already hired several excellent teachers that have established a comprehensive curriculum.
"No." The protest was a breathless whisper.
All three men turned and looked at her.
Sarah gripped the bottom her sweater, until her knuckles turned white, "I said no. You're not taking my son."
"Mrs. Alenko, this isn't—"
"What my wife means is that we need time to think this over."
"This is the right choice."
Sarah squared her shoulders and grabbed the only idea she had on how to stall the men, "It isn't our decision to make, its Kaidan's."
A voice sounded from the doorway, "I want to go."
Sarah's chest tightened enough that it hurt. Wide-eyed she turned to look at Kaidan, and then past him to the open door leading to the kitchen. He could have sat in there and heard everything. Of course, he would want to go. Something like this was all her son, who loved spaced dramas and actions figures, would want.
Dropping her head into her hands, Sarah let out a ragged sob.