Day Seven ∞ Thursday

"LET ME HEAR YOUR UPDATE, Dunn," Colonel Walters said tiredly, even though he already knew what the report said. It was the third day, and he'd hardly slept a wink since he arrived at Maxwell Air Force Base, although a cot had been set up for him in the back of his makeshift office inside the secured hangar. The makeshift office he had to share with the silent, ever-present Agent Barrett. He was thankful he didn't have to share it with Barrett at night as well. "With your experience in repairing subs, what do you make of this thing?"

"Sir, I'm not usually tasked with—"

"Yes, we all know that. Just give me your thoughts on yesterday."

"Well, sir," Dunn put his clipboard aside, "it wore down our specialized sacrificial and tungsten rotary blades without scratching the surface, so we did a Rockwell test and—"

Walters cocked his eyebrow in query.

"That's to measure surface hardness. Though... well... according to the reading, we should have been able to make progress into the hull with those cutting wheels. We tried diamond and CBN blades next. These are some of the hardest cutting implements available, yet," Dunn shook his head, "it manages to eat off the crystal layer. You think the dust is coming off the hull, but when you wipe the blade, it's diamond and boron nitride dust. The only effects observed on the hull... a change of color radiating from the point of contact... and an apparent... inward-outward movement..."

He paused in thought. "It's difficult to explain. But this thing is extremely good at dissipating the heat caused by friction. When the second team utilized heat cutting equipment, we used acetylene obviously, then hydrogen. We even tried the new electric plasma cutter, but... the heat from those were just as effectively dissipated, maybe by electromagnetic means or... We don't know. It's even possible to place your bare hand on the surface immediately after holding the heat was on it for thirty minutes without getting burnt. And we're talking about temperatures upwards of 6,000 and 40,000 degrees here."

Walters whistled and considered that for a moment. "And still no dent?"

"No, sir. Well... That is... While the heat was on it, there seemed to be a reverse reaction from the object."

"What?" Walters hadn't read that in the preliminary report. "'Reverse reaction'?"

Dunn hesitated. "I–I mean, sir, that the effect of applying the heat was the opposite to what was expected."

Walters stared at him. "Meaning?"

"The pressure and heat are supposed to make a dent at the very least... But instead, every time it seems to bulge and get thicker in the affected area." He paused to allow the words to sink in, before continuing. "I.E., it's responding by adding extra layers of protection to the area while under attack."

Walters rose as he stared at the vessel through a section of plastic sheeting that served as office window. "And what do you make of that?"

"I don't know, sir. Except that it's alien and responds as if it's at least partially organic. If I didn't know better, I might even be inclined to say that it's... breathing. But... that's not my area of expertise." The sergeant fell silent and waited.

Eventually Walters said, "Thank you," without looking at him as he left the office. Walters remained standing as he reflected on the preliminary findings of the samples taken on the first day. He'd received the report earlier, and it was all "negative": there was no evidence of alien microorganisms, viruses or viroids embedded in the surface of the vessel.

He sighed and turned to Barrett who was standing in his usual spot at one end of the office, watching the activity around the cocoon with his hands crossed behind his back. "What do you make of this thing?" he asked.

Barrett looked at him. "I'm not here to make anything of it..."

"Yes, I know that. I just want to know what you think. You've been with it from the start. You must have some thoughts of your own."

"My thoughts?" A corner of Barrett's mouth lifted. "It's made of WSFM... weird science and frikkin' magic. Let's hope that there aren't any more of these coming our way."

∞

Gina came down the stairs to find her brother pacing the hallway with a frown on his face. "Aren't you going to have breakfast?" She glanced through the kitchen door at the laden dining room table. "Did you and Mom...?"

Danny shook his head. "It's okay. I'm not ready to talk with her yet. I'm just waiting for Mickmi."

Gina wrinkled her brow. "Then what's eating you?"

He stopped pacing and turned to her, but before he could say more, Mother came to the doorway and looked from one to the other with a tentative smile. "Good morning, my dears." Her clasped hands were trying not to wring.

"Morning, Mom," Gina said, but Danny remained silent as he met Mother's gaze.

"Where's your friend?"

Gina glanced at her brother. "I think she'll soon be down," she replied.

"Okay." Mother turned back to the kitchen.

Gina turned to Danny with a puzzled look on her face. "Dan," she said quietly. "What's going on?"

Danny shrugged and looked toward the footsteps coming down the stairs, his frown melting away. Mickmi joined them, neatly dressed in jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers, her bag hanging from her shoulder, a scarf around her neck. She gave Gina a smile before turning to Danny.

"Mickmi?" Mother came back to the doorway.

Danny and Gina glanced at each other as Mickmi turned to Mother, meeting her gaze. "Good morning, Mrs McGahn," she said evenly.

"Good morning, Mickmi. Would you..." Mother took a deep breath, looking rather anxious. "I was... quite insensitive yesterday; would you – accept... my – apologies?"

Gina stared at Mother in disbelief, while Danny inhaled deeply.

"I would," Mickmi replied.

Mother smiled nervously. "Thank you. And... I want you to know, that – you're welcome"—she wrung her hands—"to stay here... as long as you want." She pulled her hands apart and stretched out a hand to Mickmi.

Gina's mouth was open. Mother had never made a one-eighty degree turn just like that before. That was something that could take weeks—if at all.

Mickmi took the hand. "Thank you," she said.

Mother's face brightened a little as if she'd just been relieved of a heavy burden. She held Mickmi's hand lightly and gave it one shake. "Please come and have breakfast," she then said, turning to gesture toward the dining table. "I've made special—" She broke off as her face paled and she grabbed onto the doorframe, panting shallowly. Mickmi steadied her by the elbow.

"Mom!" Danny rushed forward to grab Mother by the arms as her knees gave way. "What's wrong?" He helped her toward the chair Gina pulled out for her. "Mom?" He kneeled in front of her.

Mother squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her head and faced with her hands. "I... I don't... know. ... Feel light – headed..."

Danny looked at Mickmi behind the chair; he took Mother's hands in his as Mickmi placed her right hand on Mother's forehead and the other on her chest, then closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Gina returned with a glass of water and stopped, staring at Mickmi. "Wha—?"

"Sssh..." Danny shook his head at her, then turned his gaze back to Mother, observing the color returning to her face, her breathing returning to normal.

Mickmi stepped back, her eyes slightly glazed, as Mother straightened herself in the chair and smiled. "That feels so much better! I don't know what's wrong with me this morning."

Gina handed Mother the glass, as she looked wide-eyed from Mother to Danny to Mickmi, but she said nothing.

"You're sure you're okay?" Danny studied Mother with concern.

Mother took a sip of the water and gave him the glass. "Of course, dear."

Danny got up, handing the glass back to Gina and looked gratefully at Mickmi. Then he took Mother's arm as she rose, looking around smiling. "You should take it easy, Mom."^

She waved him off. "You must eat before you go to work, dear. Come, sit down—all of you." She went over to the table and pulled out a chair. "Mickmi, please sit."

"Mom, I'll be late for work. And Mickmi's coming with me."

Mother looked at Danny. "No dear. You can take five minutes and have something to eat. Then you can go."

Danny sighed and exchanged glances with Gina, both breathing a sigh of relief. Mother was back to normal. Almost. He nodded to Mickmi and lifted his own chair back to the table.

∞

"You sure you're okay?" Danny had to ask again as he waited for the lights to turn green. "You looked like you'd been overdoing it with Mom."

"I am fine." Mickmi met his concerned gaze.

"That was, like, three times in an hour. That's a bit much, isn't it?"

"Aye... a bit much."

"I thought so. I could see it in your eyes." He stretched over to rest his hand on hers for a moment, then turned back to the road as the traffic started moving again. "Gina called the doc, he'll come by to check on Mom to make sure she's okay."

She gazed at him a while. "I know her heart is strong," she said. "But she was still light-headed from being affected so it is good to make sure."

He glanced at her and took a deep breath—of course she knew.

They remained silent for a few minutes, and then as they approached the last turnoff, he said, "I hope you're up for this, Mickmi. The guys are dying to meet you."

He smiled as he glanced at her. She looked amused.

"You should remember one thing, though: don't do what you did at home. Don't let anyone know you can read things that the rest of us can't see."

"I must keep a low profile, aye," she said and nodded seriously. "I understand."

∞

Jason tapped Nathan on the shoulder in the changing room, grinning. "I believe your buyer has arrived."

"Yess!" Nathan threw his overall back in the locker, came out to the front and went to Ray who'd just started polishing the Cutlass S and nudged him. "Is that her?"

Ray looked up as the blue pickup truck parked inside the yard and nodded with a grin. "Yeah, that's her."

Nathan sat down on a crate to wait as Aaron came over and stood beside him. "So you really selling that bike?" Aaron said as they watched the black-haired girl slide out of the truck, looking around.

"Yup! It's just taking up space. None of us use it anymore."

"Mm, yeah... That's true."

They watched as Danny skirted the front to the girl and said something to her, standing at a distance from her just short of respectable.

"Yup! Ray's right: she's a looker alright." Nathan cocked his head a little, peering. "What's that around her neck? A scarf? Who wears a scarf in this weather? Aah, I know... She must be hiding an— Ouch!" He glared at Aaron who'd just slapped him across the back of his head. "What'd ya do that for?"

Aaron frowned at him, trying to look serious. "Zip it, Nathe! You talk too much!"

Mickmi had already soaked in the atmosphere of the location before Danny joined her, asking if she was ready. This was a place full of hard work, positivity, and friendly coworkers. Danny clearly enjoyed his job here. She nodded in response, smiling.

"The guys, they're a little bit crazy," Danny said, pointing with his eyes toward the shop. "But they're cool, they mean well."

She studied the activity at the shop and two guys that were watching them as she pulled the knot at her neck and took the scarf off, stuffing it in her pocket.

"Why...? I thought—"

"It is safe here. Plus they ask more questions with it on, than off. Although," a crease appeared briefly between her brows, "I know not why..."

He glanced at her collar and met her puzzled gaze. Then it dawned on him. "Oh!" He chuckled and shook his head at her. "Never mind that. It's none of their business anyway." He placed his hand lightly on the small of her back as they started toward the building. A corner of his mouth lifted as she looked at him curiously. Like you said, it's safe here. They already know how I feel about you.

"Welcome to Myers' Auto Shop," Aaron said, striding forward to meet them and stretched out his hand. "I'm Aaron. It's a pleasure to finally meet you!"

Mickmi shook his hand, and smiled and nodded as he introduced his brothers and Ray. They took turns shaking her hand; Nathan's face brightened after getting over the fact that there was nothing else on her neck but her collar.

"Any friend of Danny's is a friend of ours," said Jason and stepped back again to make way for Ray. "We went to school together, same class, me, him and Ray."

"Yeah, and I didn't g-get to say hi to you last time," said Ray, grinning.

Mickmi looked puzzled for a moment before she sensed the reason. "Oh... I was not awake."

"That's right."

She smiled in recognition: she had heard that voice before.

"Danny here hasn't told us much about you," Aaron continued, throwing a pointed glance at Danny, grinning. "But at least now we know he wasn't conjuring up some imaginary friend."

Danny chuckled, waving his finger at him, while Mickmi remained quietly smiling.

"Nathan's the one with the bike for sale," Danny said to her.

"Yep, she's in the back—I'll bring her right out!" Nathan said.

Danny nodded. "Okay, we're just gonna say hello to Mr Myers first."

Mr Myers glanced up from the Thursday Tribune as Danny entered first into his office. "You know, Danny-boy, I swear these shamuses think they're pulling wool over our eyes. Who do they think we are? Morons? Here the officials claim that 'removal of the satellite was successful' when it's clear by reports that a high-security convoy for a flatbed carrying 'a large, long object' hidden by tarps couldn't be just a piece of mashed-up satellite! Damned if I'm gonna let them—"

Danny cleared his throat. "Mister Myers, sir..."

Mr. Myers' brows shot up when his gaze fell on Mickmi. Danny made the introductions, and Mr. Myers came around his desk to greet her.

"So you're the young lady that had my Danny so troubled a few days ago. I'm glad to see all's well now." He squeezed her hand between his. "You've made a big impact on him, you know; I can see why he is so fond of you."

"Thank you," she said, a little embarrassed, with a small dip of her head.

∞

Everyone stared at Jagg and Lora in silent disbelief.

"You freaking kidding us, right?" Pace said eventually, looking to Jagg. "Hypnotize?"

Jagg crossed his arms, looking back at him with his usual straight face. "You could volunteer for a demonstration—I'm sure Lora won't mind," he said and smirked.

"Nuh-uh, noo. I pass." Pace shook his head and glanced at the others. "I'm just gonna take your word for it..."

"Sleek?"

Sleek shook his head vigorously, eyeing Lora.

"Anyone?" Jagg lifted a brow, looking around the room.

TJ looked at Lora. "How do we know you haven't got him hypnotized right now?" He pointed with his head and Lora smiled amusedly. Toni was still staring at her, open-mouthed.

"Trust me: I know what it feels like to be hypnotized by her," Jagg said. "I'm totally me right now." He smirked with humor in his eyes.

Ramiro, who'd been following the conversation closely, finally spoke. "And what did that feel like?"

"Did it hurt?" Sleek said, throwing a cautiously admiring glance at Lora.

"No. Just a pressure in my head, no pain. Made me feel like I couldn't move a muscle."

"Wow...," Pace said. "Imagine what we could do with that..."

"But... how do we know we can trust her?" TJ looked thoughtfully at Lora, then said, "You could be working undercover for the bloody cops or something—just waiting to take us down!"

Lora was amused, but she remained silent as she studied each member of the crew—she would let them work it out without interference. She was in no hurry; this was where she belonged now.

"She not working undercover for no one," Jagg said patiently. "No question about it. And this skill she has, she doesn't use frivolously. She won't be using it on us without permission unless"—he looked pointedly at each of the guys—"you try to mess with her without permission." His gaze remained on Sleek a few seconds longer. "Lora has agreed to partner with us. She's already proven herself. But she's gotta earn our trust and... we've gotta earn her trust."

Everyone exchanged glances.

Toni looked back at Lora, meeting her gaze, and then smiled. "Well," she said, and went up to her and held her by the elbow with both hands, turning to the guys. "I for one trust her." She looked back at Lora. "Lora, welcome to the crew."

∞

"Well... She's yours if you want her," Nathan said after a while. "She's from '72 although the official model year is 73."

It was just the three of them left outside the far end of the shop, the others having returned to their respective jobs. Danny sat on a crate, arms crossed, and Nathan was watching Mickmi admiringly as she circled the Honda XL175 again. Despite Nathan's earlier attempts to clean it off, it was still full of dust and grime. The chrome and orange paintwork showed spotty evidence of corrosion, and sections of the exhaust pipe and rims were covered with rust.

"Start her up," Danny said.

She glanced at him and located the start lever, then kicked it a few times before the engine picked up. She gave it a couple of revs with the right handle grip and stepped back, listening to the sluggish, sharp smattering of the engine with a thoughtful crease between her brows.

"Yeah, she's gonna need some work to bring her up to scratch...," Nathan said. "Apart from replacing oil and all that..."

"I can work on it during my breaks, and a couple of hours after work," Danny said.

"Nay." She dug into her shoulder bag, pulled out a hundred dollar bill and turned to Nathan. "I wish to work on it myself." She grinned at their surprised expressions.

Nathan closed his mouth, took the cash from her and shook her hand again, grinning. "Well, she's all yours! If you have any more questions, I'll be right here." He started backing away. "I've gotta start working now." He gave her a closed two-finger salute before heading for the changing room.

Mickmi and Danny remained behind.

"That was a good deal. Congrats!" Danny said.

She looked up at him.

"You're a bike owner now." He winked at her.

She nodded and turned off the noisy motor. "Aye, I am."

He came up to face her across the bike. "But did you really mean you want to work on it yourself?"

She looked up with a slow smile. "Aye, that I do. You are busy. But you will tell me what I need to do." She said it like she already knew he would.

"Sure." He was shaking his head. "But seriously... You really want to work on it by yourself? Was that something you used to do? Mechanics?"

Her eyes brightened. There was an excitement in her he hadn't seen before. "I know not... but I feel it in me. I shall ask for help when I need it."

"O-kay." What else was she going to surprise him with?

She rested her hand on the gas tank. "I want a new finish."

His brows went up. "Of course. Sounds like you want to go all out with a restoration."

"Aye. Clean it inside out and restore."

"Okay then... Well, Ray does bodywork so he can rechrome and paint it for you, and repair the exhaust pipe. Or did you want to do all of that yourself too?" he added jokingly.

She chuckled. "Nay. I shall take it apart, clean it and reassemble it."

"It's not as simple as it sounds..."

"I know."

He stared at her for a moment, then shook his head again, smiling. "Okay... So you want new gaskets, piston rings, grips..." He stooped for a closer look at the engine, then felt the tires, pressing his thumb into the tread. "Could do with new tires too. We can get those on the way home today. There might be some parts available in the junkyard at the back, there are a couple of old bikes there. But that depends on what else you'll find going on inside." He looked up at her.

"Aye, I am sure," she said before he could ask her again.

"Okay...," he said, slapping his knees, then rose. "I'm gonna have to run this by Mister Myers, to allow you to work on it here, and borrow tools and all that. Although I can't imagine him saying no to you." He grinned as he came around to her. "Come. He's not going to believe it otherwise."

∞

"Are you sure about this?" asked the heavy-set man with a snake snaking its way up his arm. "That's a six-hour job at my speed—less experienced artists would take much longer—but it's still a lot for a first-timer to get done in one sitting. It would be better to break it up into three or four sessions... and it also depends on your pain threshold."

Lora met Toni's gaze, and Toni lifted her brows. "I'd ask you the same question... I had to do mine in two, and it's not that big," she said.

Lora looked at the wall that was covered with photos of persons with tattoos of all shapes and sizes, at the center of which was an oval mirror with a wrought iron frame. She liked what she saw in it as she pushed her hair back from her temple: a ring in one ear, a ring and a knob above it in the other, accommodated by newly pierced holes. She returned to the drawing she had made, based on the samples she identified in the heavy folders. "Yes, I am sure," she said.

"I've gotta say, you're braver than me..." Toni shook her head, grinning. "Okay, I'll tell TJ to come back for us in six hours."

Lora turned to the man with a gleam in her eyes. "My pain threshold is high. I am ready to start."

"Okay then! Come this way."

∞

"You can take a break now," Danny said after watching Mickmi for a while, smiling fondly. She had already started disassembling the motorbike piece by piece; she almost looked cute in his spare coveralls that were several sizes too big for her—held up at her waist with a belt and sleeves rolled up above her elbows. The bike was mounted on a raised stand, looking quite naked.

She glanced at him and shook her head. "Nay, not now." She reached for the WD-40 can and started spraying every nut and bolt she could find.

He looked at the sections she had laid out on the workbench next to her: the bike seat, the emptied gas tank, mirrors, fenders and side covers—and shook his head to himself: she never ceased to amaze him. "You should. It's lunchtime... I'll share some of mine with you."

She paused and looked up at him with her head tilted. "In a while. I shall finish this first." Her smile was serene, he could tell she enjoyed what she was doing.

"Okay. You'll find me over there." He pointed toward a half-wall partition at the rear of the auto shop, where Jason's ruffled head of blonde hair could be seen peeking at them. "Don't take too long."

Danny sat so he could watch Mickmi over the wall. Ray and Nathan sat on the bench beside him, following his gaze.

"Man, I envy you!" Nathan said. "Where'd you find a girl like that? Does she have a sister? 'Cause I want one just like her!"

"Hey, don't you have a g-girlfriend already?" Ray said.

"Yeah, but who knows how long that's gonna last."

"Ray should be the one asking," Jason said. "You don't need any."

"Yeah, I'm g-gonna ask." Ray turned a hopeful gaze to Danny. "Does she have a sister?"

Danny shook his head. "I don't know... She doesn't know. She can't remember, remember?" he said in a subdued voice and pulled the cover of his lunch pail that contained a large portion of the dinner leftover from yesterday. "She's working on it, so please, don't ask those kinds of questions. It stresses her."

The guys nodded in understanding. They looked back to Mickmi as she put down the spray can and went to the bathroom to wash her hands, so they turned to their respective lunches and started eating. Danny was chewing on a chunk of stewed beef when he saw her return into view about to head in his direction when she suddenly stopped, staring at him.

He stopped chewing, his fork frozen in midair on its way down for another portion as he watched her slowly unbuttoning the top of the overalls with her gaze locked on him. What was she doing? She looked serious. Then she brought her hands up to her neck and tied her scarf around it, covering her collar. 

He swallowed. What?

She headed for the open front of the garage to view the street, then looked to the right. Danny dropped his fork and stood up, a disconcerting feeling of unease attacking the back of his neck and stomach. The guys looked up at him, startled.

"What's up?" Ray asked, staring at him, then followed his gaze.

Danny didn't answer; she was still standing there, stiffly watching something. Then she lowered her head and slowly turned inside. Danny stepped over the bench to get out and meet her halfway, his heart pounding.

"What is it?" But he knew the answer already. Are they watching us again?

She nodded once, sadly meeting his gaze—and then his eyes were drawn to the movement of a black two-door Dodge Aspen rolling by as if just about to leave the industrial area. He saw only one man in it.

"What's wrong?" Aaron said as he came up to them. He followed Danny's gaze but saw nothing unusual. He looked back at him and then at Mickmi. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Danny replied, a tad too quickly. "Let's have lunch."

— ∞ —

©2016 by kemorgan65

*Banner image of Lora in the mirror is a composite with Wikimedia Commons images and 3 of my own photos, with Lora developed in DAZ and Photoshopped.