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  I was glad she said that or I would have felt obligated to offer her some. She brought me the package, some books I had ordered. I signed for it and she drove slowly away. As she turned the corner of the house I saw her shaking her head. She looked back once at the disturbed earth and then was gone.

  “It's okay now, Jeri. She won't be back and we'll hear if anyone else comes up.”

  “I'm sorry. I overlooked the fact that you might have visitors.”

  “No problem. It's a rare thing, but I should have warned you, anyway. However, we'd better be careful from now on, just in case. Any time we're outside, use that gadget of yours, at least until you look human. How long will it be?”

  “Another three weeks or so, now that I've perceived females, but remember, Kyle, I won't just look human. I will be human in every aspect other than my previous knowledge and having a perceptive sense. Of course, an X-ray machine would notice something like a small tumor residing in my abdominal cavity, where I'll retain a biomass containing the core of my present abilities and genome of my former self. Would you like some help with the articles you bought?”

  “Sure. Give me a hand and I'll let you help me put ‘em up, too, so you can see where everything goes. You're going to have to learn at least the simpler aspects of cooking. It's still expected of women, even in this country, the most sexually liberated in the world.”

  We discussed the meaning of sexual liberation, while bringing in the groceries. She'd been thinking sexual liberation referred to sex alone, just another in the long string of things she'd have to learn or unlearn despite the tremendous amount of knowledge she was accumulating. It made me feel like I was in the presence of an idiot savant at times.

  * * * *

  As the days passed, her lower set of arms shrank into nubs and finally disappeared entirely. The indentation grew into a definite neck and the beginning of a waist was forming. Her sleek pelt was also being absorbed and her color beneath was fading from the light lime green to tan, which she assured me would become even lighter.

  She also continued to do without sleep, absorbing huge quantities of data while I was dreaming away. I found that she was able to divide her attention, perusing the net while leaving the television on. Mostly she watched news to help with understanding what she was learning (though I was doubtful about the utility of that) or talk shows to see how humans interacted. I was damned glad Jerry Springer wasn't around any longer or I really would have had some explaining to do. If she watched shows like that, I might wind up with a bipolar, overweight lesbian, sleeping with her father and brother at the same time as she was having a secret affair with a polygamous man who had a toenail fetish. Well, you get the idea. I advised her to stay away from that kind of drivel until she had a better grasp of normal behavior, or as normal as we contrary humans ever get. To my dismay, she did seem to be involved in several daily soap operas. She had found something on the web about women and entertainment and began observing the oldest female stereotypical action around. She was, for all intents and purposes, hooked on soaps, but I don't know whether it was because she read that they were watched mostly by women and wanted to do what they did or if she was truly interested. I advised her not to interpret them as the model of normal everyday life, and left her to them.

  She also learned to record everything, and then erase all but the items she liked to question me about. That included commercials, which gave me a hard time explaining, but eventually we got through their relationship to the economy. And that led to discussions on capitalism and so on—that was how things went on in my house for a while. One morning she seemed concerned about something she had seen. It was clear she wanted my opinion on it.

  “Kyle, I'd like you to look at something I saw on the news last night.”

  “Sure. Let me get some coffee going and I'll be right with you.” Stimulants were something else her species didn't use, which made sense if their brains were already stabilized to work at their most efficient level. Besides, I assumed they could probably have used their perceptive sense to get high had they cared to.

  I sat down on the couch and Jeri joined me there after first running her hands against the back of her thighs to smooth out the robe she had begun wearing a couple of days before. She found the segment she wanted quickly and started it running. It was one of the fifteen minute “in depth” specials that were becoming popular with those more interested in expanding their mind than being entertained with the pabulum most programming resembled.

  The announcer was a pretty blonde, the norm for most news readers. She was getting to the age where she would probably be replaced and would move into higher realms of journalism before long, which was a shame because she was good at her job.

  The story was from South Georgia, where news of a “monster” sighting had previously been ignored, but now a sharp little investigative journalist had needled out the fact that it was being “ignored” because of pressure from political sources.

  The reports of the apparition suddenly stopped after a conference with Admiral Jones and Senator Trehan, the Democrat from Georgia, assured the press that there was no cover up. It was explained that what was seen was not a monster, but a field test of “flexible armor” of a new type. However, Janice Forliter and her daughter Caroline swear the thing was no soldier and that they definitely didn't see any armor. Others questioned about the sightings agree with them.

  Further investigation revealed that some unexplained electronic interference in a military AWACS plane, the type used for controlling wide areas of combat at sea or in the air, occurred shortly before reports of monster sightings began. The military definitely scrambled a squadron of Raptor all weather fighter bombers at that time, but we were told by a military spokesman it was simply the result of a combat exercise and in no way connected to the electronic static. A source tells us the interference seen on their radar was of a type never before encountered.

  The special continued on to the end without divulging much more hard data, but what we saw was evidence enough for both of us. I guess I can mention that the Admiral and Senator were both investigated over the affair. Their roles were suspicious, especially considering the Admiral was in procurement and the Senator had accepted heavy political contributions from a certain tycoon, but nothing was proven. Not then.

  “I think the military or a security agency must have captured at least one of your people, Jeri.”

  “That was my interpretation, too. Will they be mistreated, do you think?”

  “It'll probably depend on which agency gets final control, but I suspect your friend or friends will never see daylight again.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “They'll never be freed unless they manage to escape by themselves. What I'm worried about is how much they'll tell whoever has them. Will they spill the beans about the rest of you?”

  “Hmm.” She had heard that expression before. “It's hard to say.” Her face was beginning to take on some human expressions now. She looked sad, I thought. “As I learn, I'm beginning to see just how fortunate I was in landing near you. They'll be subject to mendacity, having never encountered it before. And I suspect they allowed themselves to be taken into custody by listening to misinformation, if what you say about the authorities is right.”

  “Oh, it's right. Any of the intelligence agencies or the military would live to get their hands on you or another one like you. Believe me on this.”

  More bad news. And at last that little nagging notion I hadn't been able to bring to the surface of my mind finally emerged.

  “Jeri, just how much are you people susceptible to mendacity, as you put it, although it's more commonly called lying? For instance, suppose one of you comes in contact with a fundamentalist Christian first. Could they be subject to proselytizing? Or could the military convince them they ought to divulge every bit of technical knowledge they possess?”

  She had to think for a moment. Again, I believed her partly-human face was expressing sadne
ss.

  “Kyle, I don't know for certain. None of us have ever been in this type of situation before,” that you know of, I thought but said nothing, “and you have to remember that even though we're the same species, we're still individuals, and as individuals, we'll each do what we think is best for us. I'm sure the others will consider how their actions will impact on the rest of us, but they can't possibly know what's the right thing to do at first. Fortunately, most of us are what you might call conservative in thought, so, hopefully, we'll all keep quiet about some things. But again, I'm guessing. If I knew which of us survived, I could be more helpful, but unfortunately, I have no way of knowing. There were some other relative youngsters aboard and I believe if any deviant action occurs it will be among our group. We haven't lived long enough yet to always be able to judge matters as ably as the older ones.” She appeared to consider what she'd said, then amended it slightly. “I have to admit that a small number of the young ones I knew well might, if they survived, go in almost any direction under the right, or perhaps I should say the wrong, circumstances.”

  I'd already had some vague thoughts on the subject, but now I began to seriously consider the idea of some kind of identification for Jeri. Even after she looked completely human, she was going to have to have an ID if the authorities got a hint of anything else unusual out here. We'd have to do a lot of explaining about her presence without it, but with some really good papers, as convincing as possible, we might be able to sidetrack them rather than having to run. These days it's not easy to get lost. I had only one pertinent question. “Jeri, are long periods being cloaked by your gadget uncomfortable in any way?”

  “If it's kept working extensively, the power source will eventually wind down but it will last for hundreds of hours, minimum. And yes, after several hours, any of us would have a need to turn it off for a time. It has an oppressing effect if used constantly.”

  “Okay. I had to ask, because we need to take a trip.” I explained the need for personal identification and eventually got it over. It was a subject we hadn't covered yet.

  Not only did I need some ID for her, but it had to be unchallengeable. The most common, almost foolproof, method is to take the identity of a child who had died who would, at the present time, have been about the same age as the person as an adult, then build a background from there. Even that wouldn't produce an unbreakable cover, not if the authorities really bore down hard. Just the fact that you had to construct a complete life history entailed a lot of risks. The best way was to find some parents who had lived in out-of-the-way places, then died, and the child was placed in foster care, and subsequently died. Or, find parents who had worked overseas. The better the ID, the more expensive it was going to be, but I wanted the best. Fortunately, my work in the 902nd Military Intelligence Group, “the Deuce” we called it, before I was wounded and discharged, gave me a lot of knowledge and contacts. Also fortunately, I could afford the best, which meant hiring a trusted hacker to break into a lot of government and municipal data storage sites, then create the identity almost from scratch, and make it seem as if the new person has had few social contacts.

  Even the name I had given her, Jeri, would be easy to fix, if I gave her an identity where she had been “adopted.” All this involved the trip I asked her about. It was an occasion where the contacts had to be made in person, because e-mail is so easy to trace, and this in turn meant a trip to Little Rock, the nearest city where I could have it all done.

  I debated with myself over whether we dared to wait until her transformation was complete. Finally I decided it was best to get it done now, then remain in Little Rock somewhere at a cheap motel until she was fully human. That way, I could explain to anyone who asked that we had met there, fallen in love and decided to live together until we were sure we wanted to get married. Not that I ever intended to marry Jeri even if she did turn out to look human. Marry an alien? Sex with an alien? Forget it. That was for books, not real life. I pushed the subject aside, not sure why I was even thinking about it, but all too frequently my mind goes off on tangents like that. Besides, we needed to get packed and get gone.

  * * * *

  Jeri said she was only ten days or so from completing her transition, so I had her bring the clothes I'd bought for her, along with the two robes I'd also bought to make do with until then. That was just in case this took longer than I thought it would. It had been a number of years since I had dealt with the Little Rock underground and my old contacts might no longer be active. I also had to round up some money, in cash. Fortunately, with the financial situation like it was in America, where an overwhelming debt load and atrocious balance of trade had been building for years, a lot of my money was in gold and silver now, in a safe deposit box in Little Rock, where Gwen and I had lived before I sold out and bought this place. While we were packing, I told Jeri how I was planning on creating the ID for her, another idea that was foreign to her. She hadn't quite understood when I'd mentioned it before, since Cresperians never concealed their identities from one another. Their perceptive sense meant that no disguise was possible and they had no desire for subterfuge anyway. “Jeri, do you have a pretty good idea of what you're going to look like in the face once your transition's done?”

  “Oh, yes. Here, I'll show you.” She pulled down the old Playboy we had looked at and pointed to one of the side photos of the centerfold girl. Wavy auburn hair reaching below the shoulders, what looked like hazel eyes although the color had faded a bit over the years, and a classically pretty face, with even features and a gorgeous smile.

  I hated to destroy the value of the old magazine, so I packed it with my other luggage rather than cutting out the photo. I didn't trust my ability enough with digital manipulation to try making a facsimile.

  After it cooled off that evening, I got out and did what I should have already taken care of—getting rid of that furrow in the ground beneath the pines. I leveled it out with the little tractor I'd bought, then used a chain saw to cut the limbs into smaller pieces. I carried them a good distance away, then scattered them about. The stark white of the broken limbs in the trees was already fading and the breaks could always be attributed to some high winds we'd experienced before Jeri's arrival. With that out of the way, I got a quick shower while she did the same, and we were ready. In her original form, her pelt had been pretty well self-cleaning but now she was washing every few days. She could have taken care of accumulations on her skin with the power of her perceptive sense but it turned out she liked the feel of a hot shower. I suggested we turn in for a few hours’ sleep before the trip and she agreed. She was also beginning to require a little sleep as her brain became more human and needed to dream, and her body had to eliminate fatigue poisons, just as ours do. She did mention that she thought she'd never require nearly as much sleep as humans, though. That perceptive sense again. I was starting to get the impression it was all-powerful, which it wasn't. Eventually she set me straight on what it could and couldn't do, but the knowledge came in bits and pieces rather than all at once.

  We left the next morning.

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  * * *

  Chapter Five

  The distance to Little Rock, the capital of Arkansas, wasn't that far as the crow flies, but it took most of the day to get there on the secondary roads I had to use almost all the way just because my place was so isolated. I stopped fairly frequently at deserted spots along the road to let Jeri get out from under her cloak now and then. I also decided there was nothing wrong with staying at a decent motel. With Holiday Inn, at least you know what to expect, and they usually have double beds. I brought along a notebook computer so Jeri could study at night while I slept.

  The only real problems were being careful not to let anyone trip over Jeri and giving her a chance to eat, but she said fast food would do her as well as anything, so that's what we lived on mostly. Her human taste buds obviously weren't well developed yet.

  I slept the first night. Then
I left Jeri alone in the room while I ventured out to see if any of my old contacts were still around. I found one, Mack the Knife he was called. I know that was extremely cliché, but I didn't name him. I found Mack in the same old haunt where he'd been doing business for years and years. He recognized me but didn't let on. I gave him the high sign, had a quick beer and left. A few minutes later he followed me outside and over to my car, a big sedan and damn global warming. I liked the protection a big car offered in case of an accident and had taken it rather than the Hummer, which was a little uncomfortable on long trips. In the meantime I wished I'd bought tinted windshields so Jeri didn't have to stay cloaked so much. I quit thinking about it soon enough because I know it's an exercise in futility to wish you'd done something different in the past. The butterfly effect might have changed things in ways you'd never imagine and you'd be worse off, not better.

  I unlocked the car and slid into the driver's seat while Mackie took the other side.

  “Long time, Kyle. What's up?”

  “I need a top grade ID, female, about twenty years old. Here's what she looks like.” I raised the console lid and took out the Playboy and showed him what I wanted.

  “She looks just like this?”

  “Close enough not to matter.”

  “Top grade, huh?”

  “Absolutely. Something that can't be broken under any circumstances you can think of.”

  “Whew,” Mackie whistled softly. I'd never gone that far with him before. “No dead baby, huh?”

  “Right. Or if you just have to go that way, make damn sure you cover the background right from the start.”

  He rubbed his chin and scratched his head. “You still married?”

  “No. My wife died several months ago.”

  “Okay. Sorry to hear it, but that makes it easier. How about we bring you an Albanian bride? Their record keeping is still chaotic. It won't take much to build a background for her. The big expense is faking the passport and flight to here, but it can be done. I'll fix up a history at one of those singles match sites that offer European brides. I'll need your email address and your comp password so I can go in and put a history of your e-mail back and forth on it. And I'll need this magazine and one of your credit cards. What do you want to call her?”