I never learned what Percival did after we walked out that door. I never knew whether or not it was ethical by human standards or not, largely because… I didn’t know exactly what he’d done. I also had no idea why he’d really done whatever it was. But he was wrong about one thing. We didn’t have to wait until dinner at home.
The car that took us back had a security driver already waiting,
But the result was obvious before we got back to the Walker home.
I can only assume that the driver being there was ordered by Percival when we were out of sight, and rather than take us straight home, Fauve’s father requested that the driver take us around the city. There was no real destination, just an endless ride to nowhere with all of us in the car.
It wasn’t surprising. Humans have a process called ‘Fear Shedding’. After periods of high stress, emotional overload, and adrenal release, when the danger or other cause is gone, they will cry. They will shake, tremble, and even cry, some of them may vomit, others may sob like human babies. This practice is recorded on texts even about some of their most famous and valiant warrior societies.
Contrary to some perceptions, this ‘appearance’ of fear in the aftermath is not the fear itself, but the body’s recovery from courage. I was still not an expert on human children, though over the subsequent years of studying them, I can only say that their capacity for bravery and resilience is something many a species should envy greatly.
Fauve’s passage through that emotional release was lengthy, and I cannot tell you how tightly she was embraced by those who treasured her. The power of a human community in the face of adversity is tremendous, even at its lowest, smallest levels.
This went on until William’s phone dinged in his pocket. “Michael?” Rebecca asked, clearly wondering about their infant.
William unlocked his phone, checked his messages, the buttons making their usual tapping sound as he traded messages back and forth, until he let one finger tap on what must have been a link.
The lot of us leaned toward the device which he set in his lap and let it play, I never forgot what it said, largely because I never forgot their expressions when they heard what the newsclip proclaimed.
“...Fourteen men were arrested today on charges relating to national security, transmitting threats across state lines, violent threats toward a minor under the age of sixteen, and other related charges not released to our office at this time. According to our exclusive sources, a tip was provided that this ring of men intended to destroy evidence of felonious wrongdoing and so an emergency warrant was granted by a judge to raid and seize the materials. They appear to be tied to various extremist groups, and an unnamed multimillionaire living in the North American state of Kentucky… now on to a replay of the interview with the child at the center of the recent case involving xenointerference…”
William killed the feed and swapped to the phone function, “Tuna! How’s Michael?” He asked, I could see the stress running from his face like sweat, relief making his body melt into the seat.
“Good, man. Good. You liked seeing that, I take it?” I could hear Latunde’s cheerful voice on the other side and the faint giggling of the infant behind him.
“Yeah, yeah I did-” William replied, but he stopped as ‘Tuna’ rushed out…
“Then wait till you see the interview. It’s on every station. Gotta say, man… she nailed it. Probably it won’t stop those conspiracy types, but the way you two talked about your work was so dull I doubt anybody but the most paranoid will be able to focus on it long enough to draw any crazy conclusions.” Tuna’s bark of laughter would have been audible through the phone even without my ears being what they were.
“Boring. Gee, thanks. Next time I want to talk about geomechanical integration in stellar construction of generational vessels, I’ll spare you the trouble.” William said it in an exaggerated voice and let out a decisive ‘huff’ at the end.
“So that makes two good things happening today. See you back at the house, man. Michael is fine, I put on Chibinauts, and he’s happy as can be, so take your time!” Latunde hung up before either William or Rebecca could offer anything in the way of a retort.
His cheery voice made the car ride more relaxed, so relaxed that I did what I longed for in spite of myself, opened the window, and stuck my head out so that I was facing the oncoming wind. I had no idea why I had the urge to bite it, but you go with what you know, sometimes, and I felt the mood behind me lighten up considerably.
“That was fast… way too fast…” Rebecca noted, drumming her fingers on her knee.
I popped my head back in the car long enough to say, “I went to my embassy… that’s probably part of it. My people are very efficient about things. They probably had a hand in getting Percival involved, but that can’t be all of it.”
Fauve piped up, wiping her nose and face clean, she swallowed a lump in her throat and suggested, “Mr. Barnum sounded funny with what he said last. It sounds like he knew something. Maybe he did something? He probably knew a bunch of people in government, law enforcement… prosecutors and stuff like that, you know? Maybe he called in favors or something?”
I put my head out the window and faced the wall of wind again. Aside from being enjoyable, it helped me think. Looking back, I was fairly sure she hit the nail on the head. It made sense. Human political tendencies went all the way down to the individual person, they are always building up and cashing in debts, not of the monetary sort, but of the ‘help me when I need it’ sort. Trades in good will are worth more than any amount of energy credits, and it fit very well with what I’d seen in their media already.
But… why had the old human done this? Why reach out to who could even guess how many human contacts to rush everything from airing an interview to timing the arrest of a dozen or so online bullies? I wanted an answer.
I always meant to ask Mr. Barnum his reasons. I’m sure many who read this short account of this eccentric old human would want to know for themselves, but the reason I never knew the answer was because while I meant to ask Percival when the furor died down and the trial was over, it turned out I wasted my chance. He passed away just a few days after we left his studio, dying quietly in his sleep. He died in his home at a very, very old age by human standards. Ours really was his last task. And if you’re curious about Teresa, she did fine. She and her siblings expanded his organization considerably, and by now you’ve probably seen at least some of the old films they have repopularized for interstellar media distribution where, it turns out, copyright laws didn’t apply. Sneaky, a trifle unethical, but the popularization of that media brought more favorable interest in humanity than a thousand diplomatic envoys. I can’t help but think that that was the goal all along.
So much as I regretted losing the chance to speak with the old eccentric again, the full weight of that lost opportunity wouldn’t be felt for quite some time. How could it be? We had enough to worry about when the rest of the news broke.
