Worried Cornelia, Biologist, whose husband Marc is delivering a package to a new embassy, feels something isn't right, the day SETI discovered aliens.

 Meeting In Inman Park

Marc kissed me and I looked up from my thesis. "Ah, I wish I was half as interesting as your rain forest research, but I try."

I laughed and pulled at his flame-red curls. "Oh, you're a lot more interesting than reading these studies in Spanish. It's hard to keep all these facts in my head when I have to look up every fifth word! I wish I was half as good at languages as you are!"

"I have to be if I want that job in the UN! Daddy didn't start as a diplomat, he started as a secretary like me. Oh, can you tear yourself away long enough to go with me? I have to drop off some documents at this new embassy in Atlanta. They haven't even got an office space yet! You'll never believe where it is!"

"In an old haunted mansion like that one we used to go to concerts in on Piedmont!"

He laughed. "Close! It's not haunted. It is in Inman Park! Part of my mission is to figure out just what country they're representing. Every diplomat I speak with has a different place name on his title. The name of it is Atlanta Alliance Embassy."

"Ooh, intrigue! Okay, I'm hooked. Maybe they'll have some heirloom plants in their yard. What I wouldn't give for a few minutes to look for seed! Think they might let me?"

His brown eyes had more life in 'em than I'd seen since he took that secretarial job. Must be hard to type up documents while he waits to get some temporary assignment with US Foreign Service. He hopes to be sent to talk to someone in an embassy. And, it's just part-time. We share our apartment with my sister and his brother and his wife. They're nice, but we're married, and it's awkward, five people in a tiny 2-bedroom apartment in Midtown. His security clearance is still pending. So many boxes he has to check, and we'll have to move overseas for a temp position, then he'll have to try to have another one lined up. If he can even get there. So many people want these jobs, and few get 'em. He just turned 20 two months ago so he could even apply.

I shut down my PC and slipped it in my backpack. Marc carried his, too, and our chargers. His brother Tim was always losing his, and they had the same gaming laptops. I didn't need that kind of horsepower so I got a cheapie this time around, so it's not as much weight. We both have to change our passwords constantly. His nosy brother gives us good practice for the kinds of routines we'll have to do, working for the government.

Marc and I changed into more appropriate clothes. I had a nice red dress with puffy sleeves, not too bright, and matching shoes that were only an inch. He looked so handsome in his blue pinstripe suit, and he put on a deep red tie that matched my dress, and his ruby cuff links. A tie tac that matched.

I wore my ruby necklace he saved up for when we got engaged. My wedding set has diamonds around a ruby center, a dainty thing. The huge one he wanted to buy me would've caught on absolutely everything! Small is practical. He insisted on a matching ruby bracelet and necklace. My only real jewelry. I fussed about the bill, but every time we go to a social function, at least I know I have one set that I can wear to it. He'll have more of these as time goes by.

We walked to the street. I wore my nice gold raincoat and he had a brown one with a golden sheen that matched. Our budget didn't allow for much dry-cleaning. Now that all I have left is my dissertation, we've talked about me getting a job. COVID makes it all difficult. I adjusted my red mask.

"Oh, I got silicone inserts! Here's a pink one for you. I'll take the white." I handed him my mask and he got it in place in record time! Paper masks in the lab really broke my face out. This red one is already making my face itch, but the insert kept it off. Ah, relief! Glad I finished my stipend position last Fall! It picks up again in summer semester when plants aren't dormant. Dreaded having to go overseas for months, though! Now that Marc's in the running for a government job, he might have to move without me. Scary thought.

We walked down West Peachtree to the North Avenue MARTA Station. It's only a 7 min walk. Nice clear day. Blue sky. And, a full moon.

Marc didn't miss that, either. "Ah, what a glorious backdrop for our love! It sets off the Fox Theatre, doesn't it? I want to take you to Dancing With The Stars Live 2022 on Saturday night, Feb 26th. We can do that, can't we?" He swung me around, off the sidewalk, into the Fox's front foyer. I laughed. I know we can't afford that right now. Tickets start at $60, and he usually wants right up front.

We walked past the Fox and to the North Avenue Station. Marc swiped our TransCards. We spotted a cold concrete bench. Used a wet wipe on 'em. He's meticulous. Wiped the seat down before we sat on it.

"Hey, we got us a maid!" Snickers from behind us made Marc's face red, but he ignored it. Sometimes I wondered if the government was watching us. Probably electronically, not in person. The train came and we got the whole car to ourselves. "Sad, to see MARTA this empty."

"Oh, someday they'll give MARTA enough money to make it a world-class transit system like Germany has! Remember our last trip with your parents?"

I smiled. So nice, to get up early so Marc and Tim and Sara and I could buy fresh pastries for breakfast, for both our families! That was the only time both families of us could go someplace, even if it was only a weekend trip.

"Five Points Station." We got up and ready to run.

We had to run downstairs to catch the Eastbound Train. Didn't really need to run with five minutes, but when it's crowded, you want to get a seat. Habit.

Despite rushing, I loved looking over the old Atlanta Carnegie Library facade. So many beautiful marble carvings! We had a great view on the stairs as we stepped down. Marc never missed a detail. Made the train. Again, Marc cleaned the seats, but kept his train of thought. Loved that about him! Nobody to heckle him this time. I scanned faces, the few before we got on. Often wondered if I could get used to this, constantly watching people for suspicious behavior, when I first knew Marc had such aspirations. But, now it was second nature.

My parents didn't want me to marry him, to move someplace dangerous, maybe, and he's five years younger than me. Like Marc, it's the idea of helping people, of making a diff. I should be able to land a research position just about anyplace as a biologist. I love botany, but I also have my RN so I could work in a clinic if we end up in a really remote location.

"You're awfully quiet. Is the intrigue getting to you, Cornelia?" Marc kissed my cheek.

I laughed. "Just tired. I've been at that dissertation for days, extolling the merits of controls on exports of plants used for native medicine and how countries along the Amazon River are mounting remote cameras to see who's stealing their plants. If the US would just take the issue seriously—"

"Until Republicans and Democrats learn to compromise, most important issues in Congress are gridlocked. It's a terrible political climate for choosing the Foreign Service." Marc sighed, and his shoulders drooped. "But, we have to have hope, for the United States. And, for the UN. Everything is interconnected."

Our ride only took 6 minutes.

My husband helped me up and I enjoyed his strong arm around me. "Whatever happens in the world, we have each other." I smiled and he perked up.

The doors opened and we stepped out into the afternoon light. Cold, but not very, even at 11:45 on this January morn. "Yes, we do. After we do our errand, why don't we go out? I think the budget can stand it. Mr. Grayson's expecting me to clock out for lunch, and I can do that on my phone."

I pulled at my blond hair and made my ponytail neat again. "I don't have an excuse not to cook. I've been home all day."

"You didn't see the refrigerator yet. Our surplus hamburger meat is gone."

"All twenty pounds? How could it be gone?" I noticed a bunch of greasy pans. More than usual. And, both sinks filled with dirty dishes after I did all of them by hand last night. I looked for meat on sale and bought large quantities. That much would last three months the way we eat. Last week all our snacks were gone, and cans of meat. I fumed, but tried not to show it.

"We need to move. I keep smelling marijuana outside when I go to run. All I need is for them to mess up my security clearance and my career is shot." We walked up the escalator.

"But, we've been saving up for my travel expenses for South America this summer, and if we use it up for deposits--"

"I talked to my parents. They got a new position in Uruguay, and they need someone to house sit for two years. And Daddy doesn't want Tim to set foot in it. We can stay there rent-free, and leave our important things there when it's time for us to leave. They don't mind if we move there now. They'll move June 1st. My cousin Imogene is quiet, and not a bit nosy. She offered to move in when we move out. She's getting divorced, but she doesn't want Phillip to know yet."

"Imogene's getting divorced? But, when the baby comes--"

"She lost the baby yesterday. Phillip didn't even go to the hospital with her! I can't imagine a man who could be that hard." He shuddered and pulled me against him, at the top of the escalator. "I offered for us to come but my+ parents showed up. Oh, Cornelia, what will we do if I get assigned someplace that doesn't have good health care and you get pregnant? Mothers die a lot in childbirth in some places. Maybe I should keep my stupid secretarial position and stay here! We could have a big family, and be safe. I don't want to lose you, and I don't want to lose our children!" His chest heaved against me.

I hugged him. "I've thought about that, too. But, when we married, we said, til death do you part. In sickness and in health. I love you, Marc. I love you, wherever we go to live, whatever you choose to do, and we'll just pray that we all survive it, won't we? God knows how it'll all work out. All we can do is try to make good decisions. A lot of diplomats have children that live to grow up. Poor Imogene!"

Marc shivered. We walked through the station and composed ourselves. How long has it been that we could talk about things like this? Always roommates, or crowds. COVID makes for empty trains and stations. I enjoyed this sliver of privacy. Last summer we had most of our deep convo at Piedmont Park while we jogged or sat in a swing by the lake, watching the swans. I'll miss Atlanta when we have to leave it, but other places have parks or pretty places to enjoy nature.

"My head is full of stories of the people we're helping to keep their visas. A lot of them have children, and they don't even know if they can get the job they were hired for, because people think they're criminals. So many misunderstandings. These people come into my office and expect me to grill them, too. They cry, and I don't dare show a tear because my boss is watching. Kaiser runs the place as if he were emperor and he's all about professionalism. Don't get involved with people. He's also trying to get in Foreign Service, and he has enough experience to get G-12 because he's an immigration lawyer. I'll have to settle for G-09, if they like my 13 dimensions."

"Honey, you're smart and you think fast. I like it that you're sensitive, that you notice if people aren't happy. A lot of men, especially Southern men, think you have to be hard. I don't think their wives are as pleased as I am." I giggled.

Marc nodded and wiped his nose. "Oh, Cornelia, you make this crazy life worth it."

We walked past a restaurant and a couple sat there smoking. The man studied us as we walked by. "I'll be back in a few."

"Where ya goin'? I might get lonesome."

"Oh, I'll be back before you know it. Just gettin' some air." We heard his footsteps behind us. Not close. But Marc tensed.

In front of us, the next block, I saw a man with a black leather jacket. Tim has one like that. He paced.

Marc held my hand so we could tap Morse. He's expecting trouble. Tapped out the word green. I nodded. That's our code for just act normal. If it gets bad, he'll give an r for right, or an l for left and I'll get out of his way. We both have black belts.

Our walk took forever into the next block. The man behind us sped up and walked ahead. We slowed down.

The man ahead was Tim, and they ducked into a yard. We kept going.

Elizabeth Street. Traffic kept going by. It is still noon rush. Not many people on the sidewalk, though.

FunnyFeeling

Finally, we got to a house with a For Sale sign out front. But, the porch light was on. Marc checked the manila envelope. "This is the embassy. I guess it's too new for them to have a sign up." And, it was 11:43 am when we left Inman Park MARTA. It's probably 11:52 or so, now. We made it before noon.

We went up the walk. "They have huge rose bushes. Look at the size of those stems!" As big around as my forearms! They lined the well-lighted walk, shaded by the magnolia. "Whoever lived here took good care of them. Nicely trimmed. Someone planned this yard very carefully, to space them for this kind of growth. And the magnolia tree's far enough from the house not to break the walk." The neat hexagonal stones had no roots lifting them as the sidewalk did. Such a beautiful old Victorian. The weathered concrete steps had neat patches and were painted robin's egg blue to match the trim. Shades of blue decorated the asbestos shingles on the sides of the house.

The closer we got, I felt something odd. Overwhelmingly odd. Something's off here.

A periwinkle decorated the stained glass oval of the front door against white-painted wood. The trim around it was that robin's egg blue. Perfect fans decorated each side of each white post. No places where paint flaked or was scraped? This is a turn-of-the-century home. It shouldn't look this new.

Hand-painted flowers on the white metal mailbox just complimented the look.

I'd seen these houses from the street many times, but I didn't remember this one. I would. Part of me wanted to run, but Marc didn't slow down. Maybe he can make contacts with someone, for his career. Have to be brave. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. So did Marc. We practiced stress relief often, so if I did it, he'd do it. Amusing.

In contrast to all of the very Victorian details, when we walked up on the porch, a voice came from the electronic doorbell. "Welcome to the Atlanta Alliance Embassy! Someone is coming to greet you."

The door opened. A man in a pristine blue pin-striped suit gave a bow from the waist but kept his eyes on us. "I am Berto, Assignment Specialist for Diplomatic Service. You are Marc Lewis, from Menschwerk, AG?" He smoothed a satin red-violet sash with a lot of pins diagonal across his chest, over the suit. A craggy face, but absolutely clean-shaven. Blond curls. Marc's stubble barely shows. His beard's red, too.

Marc returned the bow.

"Yes. I have a packet for you. Your embassy requested assistance to find a permanent location, so I researched office space for 500 people in Atlanta. Mr. Gregson is our real estate lawyer, and he looked at the work other firms did for other embassies when he composed the paperwork. You requested Peachtree Center, but their offices will not meet your needs."

He frowned. "Did Mr. Gregson research three separate locations? Atlanta Elshar Embassy will need an entire building, and so will Atlanta Thordes Embassy, but the Peachtree Center location only needs a reception desk, a conference room, and three other rooms."

"I am very sorry, but Mr. Gregson did not tell me you wanted three locations. The papers used Atlanta Alliance Embassy. I can alter them, but Mr. Gregson will need to approve the changes. I will ask Mr. Kaiser to schedule a meeting."

"I gave Mr. Kaiser a detailed proposal outlining our needs. If he needs more time, we can stay here another week."

I tried not to look around. This place had, not cubicles, but desks, heavy furniture, and a clinic with sophisticated equipment. If they only planned to be here a week, why furnish it as if this were their permanent embassy? Nothing looked unfinished.

"A week? I am sorry, but an embassy is considered land as if your country was here, physically. There needs to be a title search, and papers filed, and it is difficult to schedule a closing with the title company in less than two weeks. Your loan company will need to approve your funding."

"We do not need a loan. I am authorized to transfer funds directly to your lawyer's account. Our lawyer advised us that we did not need to take out a loan since we have the funds."

Even I knew big corporations had to borrow money when their buildings changed hands! Surely countries worked the same way, don't they?

Just then, another diplomat, this one in a similar outfit but less pins on medium blue, took my husband's hand. "Marc? O, it is very well, to see you again!"

"You know me?" It was the wrong hand, for a handshake. Awkwardly, he let go and used his right hand so Marc could shake.

I walked where Marc's dot was. Couldn't port near sick Zheien. Three couples sat around Samtych, Figure Maker Of Ye~, who never had students. I smiled to see him finishing up a figure of old Sam that could walk and talk! "What are you doing, Marc?"

He smiled up at me, then dropped the figure. "Laura! I b-brought Healer Laura—"

"Hey, Marc, it's okay! He's been enjoying carving figures with Samtych, Tel~, Asha, and their wives Estella, there, and Oleana. Cornelia works in the Yeff Science Lab helping the botanists think up new herbs." Laura just had her baby. Why isn't she sleeping?

Herbs for everyone but us. When they gave us genetic mods for Valsay, they messed us up. I couldn't even get pregnant. "I'm just an apprentice. Love, are you okay?" Quickly, I knelt by him. He's pale.

He hugged me and cried. So scared of making a mistake!

Asha startled awake, a yellow Zheien. "What's wrong? Who's this?"

Marc didn't look up. "I'm Marc. I u-used to be a d-diplomat, b-but now I'm j-just a s-servant!" He shook all over.

Asha pulled him into his lap. "That's terrible! Who's making you be a servant? I thought people could do what they want—"

"Ryonne~ doesn't make me work for him, but I c-can't think straight, and I made all the d-databases I could of my d-diplomat experiences and now I c-can only be a s-servant—"

Quickly, J~oie held his head. "Marc, you seem to enjoy carving figures with Samtych. If you wish to do this rather than serve us, Ryee will let you change your occupation—"

"B-but, a Y-Yeff cannot ch-change his—"

"Marc, you are legally Yeff, but any Yeff who is unhappy in his occupation may have Decision again! You are injured, my son." The prince shook all over. Laura got a worried look, and W'Vie shook more than he did, and stared at his dad. The boy gets sick a lot.

Yeff came from all over the commons to sit near them and put hands on their arms. They rubbed sand into J~oie's skin but avoided Laura. Jolee's sleep got restless. She's a newborn and that's why Marc carried her mother. Zheien worry. Sweet twin-fingered folks.

"That's wonderful! Sam is lonely and wants people to make figures with him, that's why Tel and I and our wives come here to work. Want to work with us? You've got a lot of talent! I used to be a diplomat, but the slavers hit me too many times. Did they hit you?" Asha stroked his head, very gently.

Marc nodded. "U-Ulu-kai." He sobbed harder. If he thinks much about that nightmare mission, he'll have seizures!

Tel paled as he startled awake. "My son, let me—"

J~oie blocked Tel's hand. "Ne, my ba. Asha comforts Marc."

"H-he does. B-but, if we c-can't live in o-our room—"

"You may keep your chamber as long as he pleases you! Or, Molly builds homes for those who wish another. You have choices, Marc." Again, J~oie rubbed Marc's head.

He clung to Asha. "M-my head h-hurts. M-Maybe I'd b-better leave b-before I have—I h-have problems—sc-scares the ch-children, when I sh-shake—"

"Stay with me. I'm strong, and I just had a nap. Close your eyes, Marc. When your head hurts, you need to rest. I like your red hair. That other man — he had a little red in his hair — Siasch, can my friend have something for his headache?" Olie frowned at him—

Siasch waved up Marc's file and looked at me. "If what you're doing works, I don't want to—"

"We're Valsay, and nothing works for long." I sighed, and tears dropped onto my blue dress. I felt half-Zheien after living with them so many years now. Valsay, or Earth, I wouldn't dare show what I felt. After slavery, none of us are the same.

"Then, let me ask Pirad for advice." A wave, and the skeletal Bisillip ported to us.

He sat on the sand with a lot of high clicks. Held a double-jointed hand out to Marc. "Do you remember me, Marc? I treated you when you came with the Yeff to Alb Seer. J~oie asked me to see you."

Marc cried. "You do important work! I'm j-just a—"

"All people are important. J~oie is worried about you, and so are many Yeff. Let me help you, and the Yeff will be happy."

He waved a hand, and Pirad let him guide it to his head. "Thank you." Marc still sobbed.

Pirad clicked his jointed face into a dismayed frown. "I know more now, and I wish someone had brought me! Close your eyes and rest—"

"See, even this healer wants you to rest. Who can think with a headache like that? Would a shower help him, Healer?" Gently, Asha rubbed Marc's straight, copper hair.

"I wish to give him new herbs. When I came to you last time, Marc, you mentioned that your wife had severe headaches also. I have better herbs now, because I traded for herbs of Valsay and studied healers' databases. Let me give you this and listen to you." His hand waved in air and held a bright blue leaf, long as a finger. He put it in Marc's mouth. Slowly, he chewed. "Ah, that helps you. Are you calm, Marc?"

He relaxed. "Yes. That's better. I'm tired. Can Siasch be my healer? I was scared when I shook, but he made me feel safe. He knew I wasn't asleep." Pas takes good care of him, but everybody wants the old healer, and Marc thinks he takes too much of his time. Pas doesn't mind.

"I think Siasch would like to be your healer. Do you have worries, while I am here to listen to you?" Pirad moved his spindly fingers back on Marc's head.

"Can Cornelia get telepathy? Earthans get telepathy when they get aandats, and Wafs, and Columbians, but we didn't. Are we that different? We look like Laura and Sara and Mischa—"

"Your telepathy is harmed, my son. Cornelia has telepathy, but she cannot help you with hers. My terminals can simulate telepathy, if you practice."

He frowned. "I tried, and it hurts."

Marc gripped my hand. Stared at the man. "Asha?"

"O, I am sorry! I nae meant to frighten you. When Adia shared memories with me, I thought I might faint! I knew you long after we both had severe injuries." He held Marc's shoulders. Marc quivered. So pale, his freckles stood out against very white skin. But, he shook all over, too!

"I'm all right. It's not every day that a man sees his future." His voice wavered.

Berto took his arm. "Please, sit down. When someone sees his future, it is a shock! I did not know you were one of the few who—are you all right?" He looked at me as he dragged my husband to a bench. I sat beside him and he hugged me against him.

Memories kept coming. That awful last mission. I had to pose as an herbalry and pretend to be mean, but they thought he drugged me when he gave me an herb for a migraine. His enemies gave him to the Ulukai for 'help'. I had to pretend to help the leader see his secrets, and I hurt him worse than they did. He almost died. Ended up very disabled until we went to the Yeff colony and their healers helped him so he could be a servant. Before that, his epilepsy was so bad, it was dangerous. And years after that, slavers took the whole colony.

I clung to his arm.

Asha hugged both of us. "Berto, may we take them to our ship?"

Berto slid the packet out of Marc's hand.

"I have to take that to--"

"I can send this with a diplomat, right now. I would like to have our healer look at you. Asha, where were you when you knew Marc?"

"Ye~ of Rainbow."

Berto smiled. "Do you remember seeing Pas there?"

"Y-yes. He was my healer, before Siasch." His brown eyes had a panicked look. I never, ever saw my husband so upset! Even when Sara fell and broke her arm, he splinted it while telling Tim to call 911. Calm. In control.

But, his body quivered like it did before he had a seizure. It worried me. Is his future health affecting him now, before injuries?

Asha picked him up. "I will take him. Cornelia, please come."

"Okay. Porting didn't bother us, but I'm sorry you'll get a headache."

His blue eyes turned light. "Lady, I will nae. Pirad gave us new tech. A Zheien arrived today in a portal from the Seventh Galaxy, and had nae harms! Ship travel nae gives us mind pains." He led us into a swirl of green light to people on the other side. Warmth, then a cool breeze, and we stepped onto the rubbery floor of a red-violet saucer.

Pas ran to us. "Marc, my son! O, come to me!"

Marc reached for him and let him carry him. "Pas, I'm all right. Don't know why I'm shaking like this--"

The old healer paled when he took him and ran to a bed he waved up! "Lie here. You must be calm, my son. How long had you this mind pain?" He laid him flat. Zheien always prop you up. I got nervous.

"Oh, I get migraines a lot. I just deal with it." He sighed.

Pas felt his head from front to back. I wanted telepathy, so bad, so I could look. I learned a little healing from him, to help Marc. Before Pas, healer after healer tried this treatment and that, and nothing helped much, he was just too injured!

He still gripped my hand. Asha lifted me up there. Pas had him on a leiwege, those wonderful bendable mattresses, but this one was just a flat, nine-sided white polygon. Now I hugged him. Tears rolled down his cheeks. Oh, it embarrassed him to just get tears in his huge brown eyes! I'm crying, too.

Pas started over at his forehead. Healers don't start over unless they find something that worries them. I forced myself to breathe. If I breathe, maybe he will. His heart skipped beats. His body shook harder. I waved, and a white blanket floated over him. Got hot. It works, without telepathy?

I saw both our accounts, the way I had them set up for both of us, and we have white Tessite aandats! I released 'em.

Marc startled as his zipped up him! "W-we should w-wait!"

"My son, you need him now. Rest, as you can. I gather my ennead--"

"Your ennead? What's wrong with me?" Always scared some doctor would find something wrong and he couldn't get in the Foreign Service. You have to be really healthy.

"Be calm. Pain leaves soon."

Asha crawled up behind us and stroked Marc's head gently. He didn't shake as bad.

Eight other healers came and they sang. Warmth came back into Marc's skin and he went limp.

Pas held out vek ea. "I wish both of you to have this herb, that takes poisons from you."

"Marc's poisoned?" I thought about—we haven't eaten anything--

"Daughter, Earth has many poisons. Breathe, as I crush."

I smiled and smelled sweet spices. Vek ea smells good.

I blinked and he held out yllis. "I wish both of you to have healing. If I missed anything in healing your husband, he does ne."

I ate the sweet yellow leaves with a blue stripe down the middle. Pas hummed as he put them in Marc's mouth and he shook all over. That's regen, a state of healing. Still scary to watch, but I hugged him and let it shake me to sleep, too.