Heaven Holds a Sense of Wonder

Disclaimer: Earth: Final Conflict is the property of Tribune Entertainment. No copyright infringement is intended.

They were middle class people. Not quite affluent, and not quite rolling with the likes of the poor. They had their manners, their dignity, and their ingrained sense of decorum.

With the majorities consensus, the funeral was held at the Palmer household; nice house, better people. Besides, the Hamptons couldn’t handle the strain of saying their final farewells in their own house. Burying their only daughter would be a horror enough.

Miranda Palmer politely turned toward the sheriff. He had donned a suit for the grim occasion. It’s colors were off and out of season, apparently owing to the fact that he seldom pulled it from moth balls.

It was an equally awkward time for a funeral, Miranda thought. These were winter time occasions. Funerals were rainy.

“Well, Richard…this doesn’t really affect him.” She answered gracelessly. Glancing nervously in the direction of Richard’s playpen, she saw the toddler contently bumping a teddy bear against the meshed wall.

Sheriff Rodney leaned in closer. “She hasn’t happened to…say anything - has she?”

Miranda felt her spine stiffening, as her mind reeled into maternal attack mode. “No.” She spat quietly. “And she won’t tell you anything until she’s good and ready.”

“Miranda!” He exclaimed, patting her arm with a giant hand. “I just wanted to see how she was doing. She may never say anything…and that’s alright. All that matters is that she’s still alive.”

She turned away, unwilling to continue further. Nearly the whole town had congregated. They were milling about, inside the house, and out in the yard. The funeral was over but no one left. Perhaps they feared departing would mean that Janie was really gone.

Miranda checked once more on Richard, and then went weaving through the crowd, searching for Renee. She was resourceful for a six year old, cunning almost. Her adult mannerisms had once shocked Miranda, but that day, she sought only a scared little child, who hadn’t spoken since her best friend’s death.

She was stopped by many, as she checked closets, hallways, and bedrooms. They offered condolences and the such; nothing more than she would expect from strangers.

The last place she checked was the kitchen, which had been nearly abandoned since the actual services had began. It was silent as she had expected, but something close to a sixth sense told her where Renee was hiding.

She stooped down, and crawled under the wooden kitchen table. Renee was huddled in a tight knot, her chin clenched tightly against her scrawny knees. She didn’t speak, or cry. Rather she stared onwards, her eyes frozen in unthawed ice. Miranda reached out a hand, and gently laid it on her tiny arm.

Her touch was not met with noticeable resistance…but it was obviously less than welcome.

“I don’t know what you saw Renee,” She started weakly, “but I’m so sorry…I wasn’t there for you.”

“If, if you could just say something. Anything…I would know that your going to be alright. I know it doesn’t seem that way right now. I just need to know.”

Renee craned her neck gently, and turned her face toward Miranda. “They’re coming back.” She said in a childish whisper.

Miranda almost thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, as she picked up the stone like object. It was smooth, like metal or glass, but lighter than both of them. Silver-blue, no visibly mold lines, or apparent means of manufacture.

She peered closely, and saw a small unrecognizable symbol in the middle. Whatever it was, it was glowing.

Renee’s eyes grew large, making her pupils almost disappear in the light reflecting off them. “Them.” She whispered. “The blue men.”

Richard had been screaming all night. Miranda had tried to quiet him for hours with little success. She had left for a moment to warm a bottle of milk.

She leapt up the stairs three steps at a time, expecting another tragedy in her household. Instead she found Richard, securely cradled in Renee’s tiny arms.

She took the baby from her, and laid him in his crib. She checked his breathing, an impulse she didn’t mean to indulge in front of Renee. Recent events however, had just managed to fuel her paranoia further.

She went to hug Renee, but the child quickly wriggled out of her arms, and darted toward her bedroom; the only place she seemed to find refuge of late.

Miranda crept down the hall, and leaned her ear against the door, but there was nothing.

She waited for a moment, and then made her way toward her bedroom. It was under her bed, in a shoebox, hidden away like any other family treasure. She just had the sickening feeling, that this thing was the key to unraveling the mystery surrounding Janie’s death.

Autopsy or no, little six year old girls with no history of heart trouble, don’t suddenly drop dead with complete heart failure. In her mind that didn’t happen. Miranda just hoped that this blue thing that Renee had given her, would serve to prove it.

“…Jurisdiction has been passed on to County law enforcement.” Sheriff Michealson was telling someone on the phone. “It’s out of my hands.”

The door swung open and the sheriff offered her a seat opposite from his own. She clung onto her handbag, waiting for him to find a seat.

“Jane Hampton didn’t die of a heart attack.” She said forcefully, trying desperately not to sputter.

Michealson leaned back in his chair, and studied her expression stoically. “I’ve seen the autopsy reports myself Miranda. If I had any suspicions regarding Janie’s cause of death, I would have approached the appropriate authorities already. There just wasn’t anything to find.”

“Nothing to find?” She asked sarcastically. “Look.” She leaned forward far enough to push her stomach into the edge of the table. “I think Janie, and my daughter, ran into something that killed that little girl. I also think that you might happen to know what that something might have been. And worse than any of this, is that fact that I think you’ve been trying to hide this from me, and everyone else in this town.”

“Ms. Palmer.” He said seriously. “This case…” Stopping for a moment he ran nervous fingers through his greased hair. “This case has been taken out of hands…by people higher up. Now, like I said before, if

Her hand shot out like a bullet and gripped his arm with a strength she didn’t know she possessed. “I want to know what my baby saw out there.”

The sheriff held up a finger to silence her for a moment, and then picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

Miranda glared at him, with the sheer determination of an infuriated woman, urging him to finish quickly .

The color drained from the man’s typically ruddy face. “Yeah. I-I’ll tell her now. We’re on our way.”

He nearly dropped the phone, and popped out of his chair like a circus monkey on springs. Grabbing both their coats from the rack, he took her arm and nearly yanked her out of the chair.

“It’s Renee.” He said softly, before they left the room. “She collapsed on the playground a few minutes ago. They can’t get her to revive.”

It took a moment for his words to register in her foggy mind, but as soon as they did, she was racing past him. He was close on her heels. “Miranda…” He panted. “Get in my car!”

She leapt into the passenger side, and impatiently waited for him to turn over the engine. Suddenly, Renee seemed so very far away. There was no way he could drive fast enough…

Renee woke up as abruptly as she had fallen. Doctors couldn’t provide a single answer that would satisfy Miranda. So she decided to be done with them: the sheriff, the physicians. They were all hopeless fools, who seemed incapable of providing her with what she desperately wanted and needed: Answers.

So she took her little girl, cradled in her shaking arms, and left the hospital. When they got inside she laid Renee in her own tiny bed, and watched the empty eyes of her daughter fade in and out of reality.

Miranda slowly walked into her bedroom, and opened her purse, where she had stashed the blue stone Renee had found. She held it precariously, not knowing whether it represented destruction or salvation. Whatever it was, it seemed otherworldly. Without thinking further on the matter, she grabbed the small gray strong box from underneath the bed, and stashed the glowing object inside. If she locked it in, could it still escape?

A soft noise distracted her from her task. It was almost a banging sound, which seemed to be emanating from somewhere inside the wall.

Miranda bolted down the dim hallway, and ended up in Renee’s room. It was empty. The window panes

were being forced down on the window frame by the breezy night outside. She peered out the window, and froze, when she saw incriminating scrape marks made on the wood of the window. So that was how Renee was getting out, Miranda thought. It was the same way she had gotten out that night…to meet Janie…

It didn’t take long for Miranda to realize where Renee has disappeared off to. It had always been her habit, to wander off into the woods, which started only a few hundred feet behind their house. It had been a bad place to raise children; at least she had always thought that way. Her husband Richard hadn’t felt the same.

“Renee!” She screamed hysterically. She dipped through the low untamed branches. In her mind’s eye, she saw Janie’s twisted little body laying in the underbrush, with Renee lying so near by…

She found her kneeling on the grass, her little face turned upward. Rather than disturb her, she sat down on the moist earth next to her.

Miranda ran a finger through her daughter’s silky hair, fighting the need to scoop her up and take her home. “Who isn’t up where?”

“Daddy.” Renee said. It was an adult’s tone forced into a childish whisper. “He said he was going to be watching…” She pointed upwards. “…From the stars.”

“I saw the blue men.” Renee answered. She was either unwilling, or unable to answer. “I saw them in my head.” She said tapping a finger on her temple. “They glow.” She continued in a hushed almost reverent tone. “Like the magic rock.”

Miranda leaned back unintentionally. Renee had said the words as if they were the most final and definite words she would ever say.

“She didn’t want to come.” Renee continued. “I made her. I wanted to look at the stars. I wanted to look for Daddy.”

Miranda shut her eyes, trying to block the thoughts that were evading her concentration. Richard had always told Renee that he would be watching her from up above. After Renee had seen her father’s death in the car, only a little distance away from the house, she had attended to the stars religiously. How foolish,

If only she had paid more attention…perhaps she could have saved two children in the process.

Miranda slapped her ground down on the ground, only to find her fingers scratched by toughened soil. Opening her eyes, she saw what she hadn’t seen before; the land in front of them was black. It had been utterly scorched.

She gasped out loud, and felt the ground a little further. It appeared as if the earth had been burnt for what looked like a five foot area beyond that point. Then it struck her like a freight train moving at full speed.

“I can’t remember anymore.” Renee said, her voice filling with choked cadence.

Miranda reached out, and took Renee in her arms. She didn’t resist. Instead she began sobbing, producing the most horrible sound, as if the flood gates of her soul had dramatically been thrown open.

She rocked her back and forth, soothing her as best should could. “Perhaps forgetting is the blessing, my darling.”

Renee Palmer bolted upright in her bed. Without blinking she snapped the nearest light on. She examined her hands first. They were long, slender…and most importantly, adult. She was in Washington, in her own home.

Her Mother’s soft voice was gone, and her comforting presence was equally absent. “Perhaps forgetting is the blessing…” Renee whispered to herself.

That was exactly what she had done. She had forgotten it all: Janie, the forest, that crazy rock. She had traded in the memory of her friend, for a few years of ignorant bliss.

Yesterday Richard had sent Renee her Mother’s old strong box. He hadn’t opened it, because, of course, that would have violated their Mother’s wishes. Until that morning, Renee hadn’t know what the box contained…she only knew it was something too frightening to be seen.

She picked the gray metal box up from the nightstand, and set it down gently on her lap. It wasn’t difficult to open the lock, and crack open its rusty hinges. Fingering the contents gently, she picked up the round object she had found near Janie’s body. With adult knowledge she scrutinized it.

It’s glow had faded significantly, but the symbols were still visible. It was without a doubt, of Taelon design.

Of course, she had probably known that as a six year old, at some level of consciousness at least.

She remembered her Mother packing up the boxes from her room. They had left Minnesota for good that year. Apparently, she had found something there she didn’t want to raise her children with.

Renee picked up the Taelon object, and headed toward the closet. There was only one more thing she needed to find. Then she would learn the truth.

“Thank you for seeing me Da’an.” Renee said, trying desperately to leave her diplomacy at the door.

She watched the lithe Taelon bow gracefully, and return to his chair, several feet above her. The words were already choking her. She was mad enough to kill him if it had been within her power to do so.

Da’an looked at her patiently waiting for her to present whatever dilemma she had come to speak with him about. Instead she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small photograph that had been pressed against the Taelon artifact for the last hour.

Without a word she balanced it on the armrest of Da’an’s chair, not quite coming near enough to actually touch him.

He bent forward slightly, and considered her with curiosity and concern. “Why have you come today?” He asked with a tone of puzzlement. “Is this photograph of someone that I should be familiar with?”

“You should be. You killed her.” She watched as Da’an’s eyes grew wider, and his concern greater.

She took the picture from him, nearly ripping it from his hand. “Jane Hampton.” She said slowly. She wanted to be bitter and hateful. Instead she couldn’t keep from sounding pitiful. “She died when we were six. I want to know why.”

The memories were flooding back, like a torrent of nightmares childhood had gracefully forgotten. She pulled out the Taelon device and gave it to Da’an.

Da’an blushed in response to whatever it was, and stood slowly. “I think I am beginning to understand.”

“This is a memory core. It belonged to one of our probes that we sent to this planet in the latter half of the twentieth century. This particular probe malfunctioned. Our scientists believed that it may have entered the Earth’s atmosphere, but they hoped that it would have destroyed itself before then.”

“It didn’t.” Renee said weakly, feeling wetness build in her eyes. “It landed in Minnesota.”

Her story had never been told, and she had never intended to tell it to Da’an of all people. It just came out.

“I snuck out of our house one night. I brought Janie with me…she didn’t want to go.” She stopped for a moment, remembering the fearful look on Janie’s face when she had begged her to come. She had always been afraid of the dark.

“We went out to the woods, so I could go star gazing. We saw something glowing in the field, and Janie went in front of me to see what it was. All of a sudden there was this flash of light, and I was on the ground. I went to find Janie…but when I did, it was too late. Her heart stopped. She was already gone…” Renee’s voice faded away for a moment.

“It was the probe then.” Da’an said sympathetically. “It’s self destruct mechanism, must have triggered a shock wave that killed your friend.” He came closer in what seemed to be some sort of effort comfort her. Apparently he was confused as to how to proceed.

“When I woke up the next day, I had these memories that weren’t mine. I saw blue men in my dreams. I saw Taelons, long before they ever came to earth.”

Da’an considered the memory core in his hand for a moment. “Perhaps the core downloaded its data into your mind.”

Renee balled her hands into fists and tried to refrain from beating him with all she had. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“If what you say is true, then your friend’s death was an unfortunate accident.”

“Unfortunate accident?” She asked with disbelief. “She died for nothing then. Is that what you’re saying?”

“No.” Da’an responded solemnly. “That is however, what you believe. If it helps you to think that we are responsible for Janie’s death, then that is what you must do. If you must use rage to find peace, then we are at fault.”

Renee held her breath, cursing the tears that were threatening to overcome her. They were a little girl’s tears; things that had never had resolution. “You didn’t just steal my friend.” She whispered. “You stole my hope. When I looked to the stars, I didn’t see a world of wonders anymore. I just saw you…bearers of death.”

Da’an walked away from her, and stared out the virtual glass that protected them from the coldness of space. “I think I now understand you better Ms. Palmer. Your hatred for us has always been a very personal thing, and now I know why.”

He stopped for a moment and turned to her once more. “Perhaps you will someday learn to see beauty in the stars once again.”

She left the Mothership, at first unappeased by what Da’an had said. Her once powerful hatred, had been put out with a large dose of ice water, provided by one overly enigmatic alien.

Renee portaled to her home town by instinct, rather than by any conscious will or decision. Suddenly she was whisked away, and plunked down in a world of lost childhood.

She wandered around a bit, but the sights she had come to see weren’t in the town.

The woods were smaller than they had been when she had once played in them. Development companies had taken over, leaving most of the land vulnerable to new construction. It was a shame, but not unexpected.

Her favorite patch of grass was still there, waiting like an old friend. She laid down in it, unconcerned with the stains being etched into her business suit. She looked upward in every direction and there they were; stars in every direction.

They were all burning gas somewhere out there, nothing more. For the slightest moment however, they were the most beautiful site in the world.