AmEarth -
Chapter 30
October in New York can be beautiful and sunny, and if the wind hadn’t been blowing cold Canadian air down through the streets, it would have seemed like just another summer’s day. Scott was sitting in a cafeteria terrace at Columbia University; behind him was the huge Library building that no longer housed books. Digital books had freed up all of that beautiful space, and the building had been “optimized.” He sipped a black coffee as he read a copy of The Idiot on his enlarged wafer. The novel was a part of his world literature core class, but the prince had sparked his interest, mainly because he was beginning to feel like one. He looked for parallels, but couldn’t properly identify with the sickly prince. The only positive quality he enjoyed was his blunt tongue. Behind Scott, two Secret Service men sat sipping their coffee milkshakes through green straws. At that moment, a stunningly beautiful student approached Scott. The two men stood up and immediately scanned her with a metal detector device.
“Hi,” she said, seemingly unbothered by the scan.
“Hi,” Scott replied.
“Are you Scott Johansen?”
“Yes.”
“I was wondering if you wanted to come to a party tonight. Everyone is supposed to be there. I’m Lisa, by the way.”
“Lisa, nice to meet you. Where’s the party at?”
“Delta.”
“Are you a Delta?”
“Yes.”
“Great. I’ll think about it. Thanks for the invite.”
“Bye now.”
Lisa left, smiling, and rejoined a group of girls who had obviously dared her to invite him. Their actions and voices betrayed their excitement as they walked down Broadway. Scott lowered his eyes to his book, intent on finishing the chapter he was reading. He was troubled by Prince Myshkin’s constant procrastination, which had lost him the possibility of conquering the lovely Aglaya in the Dostoyevsky story. He was actually mad that so much thinking went on in the prince’s head, which thwarted his actions. Scott thought of Marianne and how he could not afford to lose her to inaction like Myshkin. He took out his wafer and called his dad.
“Scott, what is it?” Peter answered.
“I need to speak to her, Dad,” Scott demanded, cutting right to the chase.
“You can’t call me every ten minutes about the same thing, son. I’m busy.”
“Dad, this is the last time I’m going to call you. You’re not helping me, but she needs me. Where is she?”
“She’s in the middle of the ocean, son, traveling with her father on the slow boat to America.”
“Dad, do you think that for one minute I believe that you can’t communicate with Sergio? Please, Dad, just give me a minute with her. She needs to know that I know where she is, and that I care.”
“Scott, you need to put some distance between yourself and this girl. I can’t guarantee that she will even want to live in America. What if she decides that she wants to return to New Zealand? I can’t change her mind.”
“Dad, what would you prefer?”
“I wouldn’t mind either way.”
“You know that I can always tell when you’re lying. You want her here. I know it.”
“So what if I do?”
“So let me call her! I can convince her that coming here will be a good choice.”
Peter remembered his recent conundrum with Barbara, and how important it had been to him that she knew about the alien hoax. His admission had been quite traumatic for her, but she had reacted better than he had expected, especially when she learned that Peter had only recently found out the truth. Peter felt much better with Barbara on his side and considered the possibility that Marianne could end up being Scott’s other half. He opted for empathy and finally gave in.
“Okay, Scott. I’ll text you the link to Sergio’s boat. You can do a video chat there. You’ll be able to see the location of the boat, and then calculate the time difference so you don’t call them in the middle of the night. Understood?”
“Yes, Dad. Thanks!”
Scott got up and went to the cafeteria to pay. Above the counter, between menus of coffee beverages and sandwiches, was a large TV screen. Scott noticed that the images were showing a familiar scene. A threat had been detected, and the AmEarth logo appeared. It was similar to the old Emergency Broadcast signal, but it was a video. On this video, a threat had been detected and an alien rocket ship appeared. The AmEarth honeycomb was activated, and the matching pentagram corner beamed a laser focused on the incoming rocket. Then there was a soundless explosion followed by calm, peaceful images of space toggling between different views, like a home security camera bank.
Scott was so used to these videos that they had no effect on him. In the cafeteria, some kids were actually engaged and cheered when the alien rocket was blown to pieces.
“Yeah!” a handful of kids yelled.
Scott felt the urge to participate, despite the strange weight that his knowledge of the truth had on his mind.
“Long live AmEarth, long live Earth,” Scott cheered along with them.
“Long live Earth,” they chanted back.
A few other students approached Scott and patted him on the back. Others shook his hand and they were suddenly a small community united in the success of the military campaign against the Keplerians.
Scott noticed that he had done something that actually made the social network in the cafeteria better. He called his father back and walked away from the group, waving to students on his way out.
“Dad?” Scott said.
“Scott, what now? I told you I’m busy,” Peter answered with a sigh.
“This is nothing to do with Marianne. I think I realized something important about AmEarth.”
“What, son?”
“It needs to be renamed.”
“What the…What are you talking about?”
“Dad, I was just in a cafeteria when a PSA of another rocket being destroyed came up. Some students cheered and some didn’t. Then I began to cheer, and I said something that made everyone seem to take notice and wake up. They came over and shook my hand and cheered with me. Do you know what I said?”
“No, what?”
“Earth.”
“What?”
“I didn’t call it AmEarth…just Earth.”
There was a silence from the other end of the phone.
“That is interesting,” Peter spoke slowly, as if thinking deeply.
“You get it, right? After New Zealand fell…”
“Yes, I understand. I’ll see if that is something we should do. Thanks, Scott. You really are a born leader.”
“You think so?”
“Of course, Scott. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
The Secret Service detail paid for the drinks and left Scott behind. Scott went back to his dorm, intent on calling Marianne.
Marianne, Robbie, and Sergio were having breakfast on the huge sailing vessel Queen. They were sitting in the outdoor teak dining room as they calmly sailed across the Pacific Ocean. The places were each set with fine china bearing the Queen logo and silverware of exquisite design. The handles on the silverware also had a unique design on the lower drop that matched the boat’s logo. It was a flower, created by Sergio, which looked as though fire had engulfed a tulip. Sergio had explained to them earlier that red tulips reminded him of Robbie’s red hair and that the boat had been named after the Holland Queen tulip that he had used to craft the logo. Everything was a tribute to Robbie; he had never stopped loving her. It was a beautiful day, and they were engaged in heavy conversation, carefully ensuring that the crew was not listening.
“Dad, how did you become this wealthy? Does AmEarth really pay that well?” Marianne asked.
“You know that it’s impolite to talk about money,” Robbie chastised her daughter.
“Yeah, but come on…I think I should know.”
“Of course you can. It’s not a secret,” Sergio interjected. “I, well…we own the factories that make all the “replicas” of the alien life forms and technology. As you know, almost every museum and school on the planet buys these trinkets and sculptures. In other words, it’s a very large market. New Zealand was the only place that didn’t sell our family’s wares! However, it is quite an enterprise.”
“And a monopoly,” Robbie added.
“A monopoly?” Marianne asked.
“Yes, AmEarth controls every aspect of the production and sales of the alien material. In turn, we profit from every item that moves. It’s a great business,” Sergio explained, gesturing at the ship around him.
“Wow,” Marianne exclaimed.
“Who knows, Marianne…Perhaps you’ll want to run the family business someday,” Sergio suggested.
Marianne felt conflicted.
“Dad, I just spent my entire adult life, short as it may be, trying to expose the lies of AmEarth and the fake Keplerian threat. It feels a bit strange to inherit the factory that distributes the lies!” Marianne said cautiously.
“Life is unpredictable. What can I tell you? You may need to be more practical and look at the world in a different light. Look at the positives, not the negatives.”
“I also don’t have much of a mind for business,” Marianne said.
“It’s not a business that requires expertise in business. Remember, it’s a monopoly. You can’t lose money, and there is no risk. On top of that, you have a constant stream of demand so the place basically runs itself. Most of the designs are already in place; that is the body of work that I am leaving to you. It is our family legacy, although no one is ever to know that I designed it. You own it.”
“What if they take away the contracts and construct other factories? I just don’t know.”
“I don’t think that is anything you’ll have to worry about. The last thing AmEarth needs is a Ramirez-Bulatov exposing them.”
Marianne sat thinking about everything around her. She was being continually showered with contradictions, so she changed the conversation.
“Dad, how did you decide on what to make the aliens look like? Where did you get the idea?” Marianne asked.
Sergio double-checked that no one was anywhere within earshot.
“First of all, I thought long and hard about this. Every alien in every movie had to be trumped by what I made. It was very important that I came up with something new, so that it would be believable,” Sergio explained.
“And that you certainly did,” Robbie piped up.
“Yes, they’re so disgusting. So, so…” Marianne trailed off.
“Intelligent?” Sergio finished her sentence.
“That’s not exactly what I was thinking,” Marianne said.
“I know,” Sergio replied, grinning at her. “But you see, every alien is usually limbed like humans. And limbs are very important, so we needed them, but why in pairs? And why different ones like hands and legs, and why two eyes? Most aliens are humanoid, which is highly unlikely to be the case. A different life form has more chances to evolve better in conditions other than our own. It is actually quite unlikely that aliens would ever be able to contain a human inside—this was all done for theatrics and movies; you needed a human to wear the alien costume and animate it, so they all had legs and hands and a head like us. However, if you really think about the separation of the cell…six instead of two, or four or eight…I looked for a totally new species, but also one that could create rocket ships and function highly. They needed a large brain and fingers. I thought of three fingers as the minimum for holding tools—a thumb and two fingers. Five is actually quite strange if you think about it. These two fingers don’t do much.” Sergio pointed to his little finger and the one next to it.
“So three, being odd, needs to relate to an even number—six or twelve. I decided that twelve identical limbs could surround the body, making it ideal for running. It can run on four limbs and when these tire, it tilts to another set of four and continues on. Very efficient. The result was the creature we’ve been seeing for the past few years all over the world. This design had never been seen before. And the six eyes really pushed it over the edge!”
“Ugh. I just think it’s…disgusting. Why does it have no mouth? How can it communicate?”
“Oh, but it does have a mouth and ears. However, they are small and the mouth is not used for eating. Its eating system is like plankton, consuming nutrients directly from water through the skin. It’s really quite efficient, and has no problems of production for sustenance like us. Therefore, all of its efforts as a species are related to arts and crafts, building, and entertainment. There are no restaurants, no starvation, and no poverty. They all simply swim and eat at the same time. Then, they can come out and get to work.”
“Can we change the subject? This is really not conducive to eating,” Robbie commented, looking slightly green, either from the boat or the topic.
“Sure. I want to talk to you about something rather intriguing. I want to teach you a craft,” Sergio said.
“What?” Marianne inquired.
“I would like you to learn about some specific techniques and tools that I have perfected to make eyes.”
“Eyes? What’s so special about alien eyes?”
“Not the eyes of the aliens.”
“What?” Robbie and Marianne answered in unison.
“What I am about to tell you cannot leave this family. Ever. Our livelihood and our safety are both in serious jeopardy if this ever gets out.” He looked around suspiciously again, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention.
“I swear, Dad, I would never betray you or Mom! I swear.” Marianne didn’t hesitate.
“I’ve created perfect human eye replicas in contact lenses for the supreme president of AmEarth. It’s a technique that uses an electron microscope. I invented it,” Sergio said.
“Why did you do that? Scott’s dad needed them?” Marianne questioned, trying to put the pieces together.
“So that he could lie.”
“This is all a bit mind-boggling. A few days ago, I was determined to expose the lies of AmEarth, and now you want to entrust me with exactly the opposite task! You want me to learn how to make the very device that allows the president to lie?” Marianne’s voice was getting heated.
“Relax, darling,” Robbie said.
“Mom! Are you okay with this?”
“Mary, listen to me. The AmEarth conquest of the world is complete. Sergio said that the supercomputer has determined that AmEarth will likely rule the Earth for centuries…maybe forever. You can’t beat them, and your kids can’t beat them. A dozen generations of our family will live under AmEarth. Period. Now, we’ve joined them, and thanks to your father, we can join at the top level. The top. Look around; isn’t this nice?”
“Yes. But…”
“No buts. Eat your breakfast and then go have a think. Think hard. Remember, we can’t begin a revolution where we’re going.”
“All I’m saying is that it seems unfair that the whole world is scared of the aliens. And they don’t even exist,” Marianne stated simply.
“Darling, it’s just not that simple. Humans were on a path to destruction, and countries found enemies where there weren’t any. America had to keep the weapons factories producing, and sometimes they started wars just to perpetuate that system, so they made enemies, both inside and outside their borders. Isn’t it infinitely better that the enemy is “supposedly” twenty-three point five light years away? There were always enemies and fears of mutual destruction, but now we have one fear that has united the whole world, eliminated racial favoritism, halted overpopulation, decreased pollution, reversed global warming…The list of the good far outweighs our fear of the enemy, which has always been a part of our lives,” Sergio declared proudly.
A crewmember arrived, and they all fell silent.
“There is a call for Ms. Marianne. It is from Scott Johansen on the onboard computer screen,” he announced.
“Thank you, Steve. Marianne will take it in her cabin,” Sergio replied.
Marianne rushed away and ran down the hall to her cabin at the front of the sailboat. She opened her laptop computer and saw Scott’s face looking at her within seconds.
“Scott!”
“Marianne,” Scott’s voice was filled with relief.
“How are you? Where are you?” she said.
“I’m back in the States. In my dorm. How’s Sergio’s yacht?”
“Amazing, but you should have seen what they did to me before my dad picked me up! I was questioned and treated like a rebel! They even drugged me!”
“What? On the Reagan? I tried to stop it, I swear. I called my dad and…”
“Don’t worry, they stopped after I told them everything. I actually think they were disappointed.”
“What do you mean?”
“They thought the rebels had weapons and were dangerous, but I just told them the truth.”
“So what did they do? They could have charged you with treason!”
“Well, they didn’t. I think that between your dad and mine, they decided to let me go. Now I’m in the custody of my father, who I barely know…”
“Your dad is great, Marianne. I wish my dad was more like him.”
“He’s cool, but do you have any idea what he wants me to do?”
“What?”
“He wants me to learn how to make all the alien stuff, and work with him in his shop.”
“Are you into that kind of thing? Do you want to go into art directing like him?”
“Scott, it’s not art directing. If anything, it’s art misdirecting. I’ll be helping to keep the lie going, exactly the opposite of what I was doing in New Zealand.”
“I know. I kind of feel the same way. I know it’s all a lie, but…”
“I know, everyone is telling me the same thing—AmEarth is not all that bad and will be around for centuries. Who can fight against that?”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Oh, sorry.”
They paused and simply looked at each other for a few seconds, trying to read the other’s expression.
“Look at it this way…if you sell your soul to the devil, he will come and take it from you in seven years, right? So, here we are selling our souls to the system, but we will live like kings until we die. It’s not bad, really. Considering that the other option is to rebel, be found guilty of treason, and ggggghhhht…” Scott made a gesture of being hanged by pulling his t-shirt upward and tilting his neck to the side.
Marianne laughed, and it warmed Scott to hear it through the microphone.
“That’s true, but I see that my options are narrowing everywhere I go.”
“Why don’t you give it a go? I think Columbia University might be interested in a new student with your qualifications.”
“What are you saying? You’re going to pull strings to get me into the best college in America?” Marianne asked in disbelief.
“No, it’s just one of the best. Not really the best, but I don’t have to. It was just an offer. After all, you’re an intelligent foreign student and they also look for that. But if all else fails…well, my dad can pull some strings.”
“I don’t know…” Marianne spoke softly.
“I miss you.” Scott’s words sprang from his mouth before he could stop them.
“Do you? You barely know me.”
“I know, but I like you.”
“I like you, too.”
“Then come and try this new life, even if it’s the polar opposite of the life you just left.”
“I’ll let you know. This is all a bit too much to digest right now. My dad just told me about the contact lenses.”
“The what?”
Marianne realized in that instant that Scott didn’t know.
“Oh, nothing,” she lied.
Marianne felt guilty at having lied to Scott and thought that it might have been the wrong thing to do. If there was anyone with whom she was going to discuss the alien hoax and this new reality, it was going to be Scott.
“Contact lenses…That is how he does it!”
“Yes.”
They both paused looking at each other briefly.
“My dad made them with an electron microscope. They have tiny veins that the computer can’t detect as fake.”
“Wow. Now we even know that. What don’t we know?”
“Oh I don’t know, why we are here?, where we are going?, do we have a purpose?”
“Ha. I know. I was being presumptuous. Do you know when you’ll get here?”
“I don’t know exactly…. I also don’t know if I want to do it.” Marianne was serious.
“Do you have a choice?”
“I like to think that I do. Don’t we always?”
“Sure, we have free will. However, the key question is, on which side of history do you want to be?”
“I’m leaning toward the winning side,” Marianne admitted sheepishly.
“Ha, ha. I guess I do too.”
“I think we’re still a week out from New York.”
“I can’t wait to see you in person.”
“Me too.”
“Okay. Goodnight, I guess.”
“Yeah.”
They continued saying slow, drawn-out “good-byes” and “good nights” for a few more minutes without hanging up the line. He didn’t want to click off, and nor did she, but once she began drifting off to sleep, they finally cut the connection.
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