Epilogue #4
The council had come prepared. They distributed half-sheet written ballots and a box of pens and then placed the banker’s box on a stool. The theater went so silent, you could have heard the proverbial pin drop.
Do you accept the offer of assistance as presented by the Federation of Alien Beings? Yes or No.
She circled yes, folded her ballot, and joined the throng dropping their votes into the slit on the box top. Most had voted quickly like her, but she noted a few gnawing on their pens. Council members filled out their ballots and exited the stage to deposit them in the box.
“If the Progg are sent home, will you stay?” she asked Rok, her heart pounding. She assumed he would, but maybe he wouldn’t.
“They’d have to drag me off.”
“It’s not safe on your planet.” She soft-pedaled the reality. Anyone who returned faced infection and death.
“I’m staying because I love you. I might still catch the plague on Earth.”
“Don’t say that!” But he was right. They still didn’t know what exactly had killed the Progg—a cold, the flu, COVID, or something else.
Maybe the disease had been eradicated when the vast majority of the population got vaporized, but it was also possible that somebody somewhere might have a cold right now.
Since he’d gotten sick and survived, hopefully he’d built up antibodies, but there was no way to tell unless he got infected again. And that had to be avoided at all cost.
“Don’t say I love you?” His mouth quirked.
“You know what I mean—and I love you, too.”
When everyone was seated, the cop from Kansas City collected the ballot box and delivered it to Candi.
Laurel passed her the mike. The secretary held up a clipboard.
From the front row, Laurel could see a single sheet of white paper divided into two columns by a black line.
It contained two words. YES and NO. “As I read the votes aloud, I’ll tally them on this sheet.
Henry will serve as a second count, tallying on his paper. ”
The KC cop waved a duplicate clipboard.
Chloe discovered she was holding her breath.
The secretary reached inside the box and pulled out a ballot. “First vote—no.” She made a tick mark on her sheet, set the ballot aside, and reached for another. “Abstain.”
Next vote: “No.”
Chloe stifled a gasp. It couldn’t go that way, could it? This was their only real chance of recovery!
“Yes.
“Yes.
“Yes.
As the yeses outnumbered the nos, Chloe relaxed. The call-out and tallying continued.
“And the last vote is…” The secretary reached into the box. “Yes.”
It was obvious the ayes had it, but Candi counted her tick marks and then glanced at the cop’s tally. “By a vote of forty-three to five, New Springfield accepts the federation’s assistance.”
There were fifty-two residents, fifty voters, with Grav and Rok not voting. Two people had abstained. She pegged the kindergarten teacher as one, but who was the other?
The audience applauded. People were smiling, but she spotted six people with sour expressions and crossed arms—the teacher and five others. The abstention and the nays. Who’s the other abstention?
“So, what now?” Guy called out. “How do we contact the envoy?”
“I’m already here,” LaTasha said, and she began to blur, wavering in and out of focus. Chloe’s jaw dropped as the teenage runaway morphed, body and arms elongating, forehead broadening, and her chin narrowing. Eyes doubled in size and darkened. Her mouth disappeared.
Holy fuck—she’s an alien! I’m gonna guess her name’s not really LaTasha.
LaTasha-Not-LaTasha rose to her feet, her wraithlike arms waving. “I’m Juma Vutrel of the Federation of Alien Beings. As you’ve figured out, I’ve been with you for a while as an observer. I will be pleased to help you reestablish yourselves…”
Chloe clung to Rok’s hand. Accepting the assistance had doomed all other Progg on Earth. He and Grav would be the only two on the planet. If the plague continued, others of their kind might perish. Their species could become extinct.
“Are you okay?” she mouthed.
“As long as I have you, I am. Are you okay?” he whispered.
Was she okay?
Life would be different. Not only from what it was now but from what it had been before the invasion.
She couldn’t guess how the world would change.
Before contact with the federation, they’d had limited choices, but they’d had total control over them.
Now, they would have many more options—but had they ceded their control?
Every decision came with some degree of risk, and only time would reveal how much of a risk they’d taken. But gut instinct told her they’d made the right decision. She gripped Rok’s hand. Facing an unknown future would be easier with him at her side.
“As long as I have you, I am,” she said.
* * * *
Thank you for reading Alien Instinct (Apocalypse 2), my 75th published title!