Will McIntosh - Defenders

“Can you see anything yet?” Lila’s husband asked.

Lila leaned forward, looked out the window. There was nothing but thick, white clouds below. “Nope. My guess is, if I could see Australia, the cloak would have cut us off by now.”

“True,” he said.

“What’s going on back in the world? Am I missing anything?”

“Most of the news coverage is about this plane full of diplomats heading for Australia. You’re missing a lot of poop, though. As soon as you drove off, Errol started making that face that means he’s pooping, and he hasn’t stopped since.”

A few of the emissaries sitting near Lila glanced her way as she burst out laughing.

“It’s not funny. I hate poop. You’re our go-to poop person. I’m in charge of vomit. I’d rather clean up a bathtub full of vomit than a diaper’s worth—”

“Kai?” Lila said. Her phone had gone dead. She hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye.

Oliver twisted in the seat in front of her, poked his head over the headrest. “You get cut off?”

“Yeah, Dad. Sorry—I know you wanted to say goodbye.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll see him in a few weeks.”

Lila slipped the phone into her jacket pocket as Oliver turned back around. It was a strange feeling, not knowing when she’d talk to Kai again. If only they knew what the defenders had in mind, whether this summit was meant to be a brief, ceremonial reestablishment of ties, or the initiation of detailed discussions and negotiations.

The silence was jolting, the sense of isolation unnerving, partly because it meant they had entered Australian airspace. She stared blankly at the stray tufts of Oliver’s graying hair visible over the seat back. Oliver cleared his throat—a nervous habit. Lila was relieved to know the US Secretary of Science and Technology was nervous, too.

Then Lila thought to look out the window

Nothing to see yet; they were still above the smoky cloud cover. It was hard to believe Australia was down there. Over the past fifteen years it had taken on almost mythical dimensions in Lila’s mind, and knowing she would see it any moment, see what it had become , set her heart pounding.

The Spanish ambassador, in the seat next to Lila, turned, as if noticing her for the first time. “Nervous?”

She nodded. The word didn’t begin to describe the shades and layers of what Lila was feeling, but it would do as a rough approximation.

The Spaniard’s white eyebrows pinched. “Were you even alive when the Luyten invaded?” Bolibar: His name came to her as he spoke. “Have you ever seen a defender?”

“I’d have to be sixteen years old to have never seen a defender.” Lila wasn’t sure if he was trying to flatter her, or what. “I’ve seen plenty. And Luyten.” She closed her mouth. That was all she wanted to say on that topic. The last thing she wanted was to flip out on the flight in. Lila did not want to prove her skeptics right.

“Ah. I’m sorry,” he said, reading her face. “You were a young girl? I’m sorry.”

The second apology was for bringing up the painful topic, no doubt. It was impolite to bring up the Luyten invasion if you weren’t sure the person you were speaking to was amenable to the topic.

Lila shrugged. “Who doesn’t have nasty memories?” She forced a smile, turned back to the window, but it was too late. As they surged toward Australia, and humanity’s first contact with their saviors in fifteen years, Lila’s memories reeled out. She saw the Luyten, like enormous starfish dropping from the sky, twirling in one direction and then the other. She squeezed the armrest, trying to let the memory be, let it play out if it needed to. She’d learned that if she resisted it would only pull her in deeper, turn into a full-fledged flashback, and if she went into PTSD mode, they would yank her at the first opportunity. The pols in Washington would just love an excuse to pull her. Nobody wanted her there; it bugged the shit out of them that the defenders had specifically requested her. Lila suspected the only reason the president had signed off on the request was that he’d rebuffed the defenders when they first asked for Dominique, and he didn’t want to start off on the wrong diplomatic foot by saying no twice.

Lila focused on her breathing, kept it smooth and even as she saw her fifteen-year-old self rushing into the shelter of the elementary school as the ground shook from explosions and the air crackled with the Luyten’s electric fire, which stank like burning sweat. That first glimpse of a Luyten, galloping out of the trees on three arms. Her father, rushing outside.

Lila took a deep, sighing breath. It had been a few years since her last full-blown flashback, but it was inevitable, given the situation. Seeing defenders, actually standing before the massive things and talking to them, was bound to draw the memories back. It was worth it though, to be one of the first to see what sort of society they’d built. To have the opportunity to thank them personally. There weren’t many humans she respected as much as she respected every single defender.

Bolibar was looking at her, probably wondering why she was sweating, and panting like a fucking Labrador.

“So what do you think’s going to happen?” Lila asked him, mostly to deflect Bolibar’s attention from what a wreck she was.

Bolibar grunted. “That’s the big mystery, no?” He unsealed a pouch of dried fruit, offered it to Lila before helping himself. “I’m sure you sat through as many strategy meetings in your country as I did in mine, trying to anticipate why they suddenly want to reestablish ties.” He stuck out his lower lip and shook his head. “My guess is their focus is technology. They want to exchange ideas. They’ve clearly made advances of their own since they segregated themselves.” Bolibar waved in the air over his head, alluding to the cloak the defenders had developed that repelled both surveillance and missiles. What a shock it had caused when it went up, just two years after the defenders took possession of Australia. Everyone wanted to know how they had developed technology still beyond humans in such a short time. As far as Lila was concerned, that the entire population had IQs ranging upwards of 140 pretty much solved that mystery.

“If that’s the case, why did they invite a plane full of politicians, and me? Why didn’t they invite a bunch of techies?” Lila asked.

“I have no idea.”

Everything made as much sense as anything else. The defenders’ brains had been developed so hastily—few understood that as well as Lila—that it was difficult to guess what might be going on inside them. Dominique—Lila’s mentor, one of the humans she respected as much as she respected defenders—admitted she had little idea what the hodgepodge of neurological tissue and circuitry she’d engineered really added up to, beyond its military capability. The defenders had retreated into self-imposed exile before they had a real chance to find out.

“Their motives aren’t that simple, or that benevolent.”

Lila turned in her seat to see who’d spoken. It was the Korean ambassador, Sook Nahn. She was a chubby woman, short, her features kind of scrunched.

“And what do you think their agenda will be, Secretary Nahn?” Lila asked.

“Sook,” she corrected, giving Lila a warm smile that reduced Lila’s knee-jerk dislike of her by about half. “They’re militaristic beings. They eat, sleep, and breathe war and military tactics. When the war ended, they insisted on carting off millions of Luyten in cargo ships just so they could have the pleasure of executing them. My guess is they’re seeking alliances. They’ve invited representatives from all over the world, but you watch: They’ll peel off representatives from certain nations for private talks.”