Chapter 1: Out of the Box
After Ms. Jessica Sky hears the phone ring she quickly hits the mute on the stereo and answers the phone. Jessica is 35, but she looks between nineteen and twenty-six. She has a moderate curvature to her body that most would adore. Careful study of her posture as she moves would tell someone that her spine is a little ridged. She never shows very much of her legs. A cami, a dress, and leggings is what she threw on today.
“Stay on the line to receive your free gift!”
“Ah crap! I’m not buying anything. Go piss up a rope!”
The doorbell rings.
Jessica quickly hangs up the phone, walks directly to the front door, and opens it. There before here are two men in black suites with stylish sunglasses, two Labor Class Cyborgs, a man in a blue polo shirt, and a Washington State Magistrate dressed suited in Olive. There’s a large name tag attached to the polo shirt that identifies Bo Bowinchief as a Washington State Department of Health Employee. At their feet is a wooden Jet Onions produce crate. She studies it while standing inside the door jam. After mere seconds of catching glimpses of everything and everybody, Jessica says, “Hello. May I help you?”
Bo says, “Good morning! His name is Jet.” Bo points down.
“Okay.” Jessica says hesitantly. “There’s a infant in the box. You’re not selling diapers are you? No LBK’s here.”
The black suited agent on the left says, “LBK madem? Acronyms are my specialty, but you’ll have to explain this one.”
“Little Bitty Kids.”
“My name is Grant. I’m with a secret agency known as Ultrix. You’ll just have to keep that a secret. This LBK is your meal ticket, to put it bluntly.”
“Alright. I need a three figure income, a house in the north end, a new methanol burning SUV, and a whole new wardrobe.”
“All that and more ma’am. Now the conversation is a bit awkward if the neighbors were to be listening. Can we come in?”
“Yes you may. I didn’t vacuum the carpets last week for nothin’”
The six visitors enter the small white house on A Street, and Jessica closes the door.
Before Jessica can even offer seating or refreshments, Bo says, “To begin, you need to know roughly the extent of your investment in time. He likes Raven brand canned milk straight out of the can. He also likes Jet Onions in just about everything he eats.
He has a hero mandate with an advanced alien race. The only way to keep him in a locked wooden crate was to drug him. He is resting with a heavy dose of sedative.
After giving him canned milk he will want to watch cartoons. His favorite is Space Specter. He’s essentially house trained.”
The other black suited spook says, “Do this and life will suddenly become a little easier for you.”
“Oh my God,” Jessica says out loud. “This is straight out of the movies. Jessica lifts the lid on the crate. “Well you look cute enough. I’d say you’re probably about 9 months by the looks of you.”
The pudgy tot suddenly stands, rests his hands on the top edge of the crate, and says, “Mil!” while looking directly at Jessica.
“Oh you want your milk. Lets go get it.” She reaches in and lifts up the large chunky infant. Resting him on her hip with an arm wrapped around him, she walks to the kitchen.
All five visitors smile. Shiny stainless steel teeth show chromatically when the two cyborgs smile.
She sets Jet on the floor. Then she kneels and opens up a cupboard. Jet walks over and peaks into the cupboard at the same time.
“My Raven mil!” Jet says.
“Okay. You’ll just have to wait your turn. I like a some of this in my coffee too.”
After pouring herself a hot cup of coffee with about three tablespoons of the canned milk, she kneels and hands the can to Jet. Jet in turn takes the can, puts the opening to his mouth, and drinks ever so carefully. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to spill any of it.
“Yep. House trained. Well I guess I’ll keep you.”
Bo says, “There’s some minor formalities Mrs. Sky. The cyborg parents have requested permission to speak.
“Good morning Mrs. Sky,” the male cyborg marriage partner says. “Cyborgs make normal offspring theoretically, although it’s rare in earlier models.”
The female cyborg speaks. “We made a baby by accident.”
Jessica says, “Accident? You know what causes that don’t you?”
“Yes. But we think it must have been something in the water. We’ve had sex thousands of times and this has never happened.”
“How much of you two are genetically engineered. I mean what kind of creature am I adopting?”
The male cyborg says, “The government contractor that made us works in complete secrecy. I do supplemental digging around buried power lines and gas lines. My wife packages grenades for Fox Creek LTD. We don’t know our genetic makeup.”
A black suite speaks up, “He’s mixed Atlantian, part human, and part Hoodia. The Hoodia are the most advanced and powerful alien race in the cosmos. This is why we need a mother with certain skills and commitment.”
“Spay Spectro,” Jet says after finishing his milk.
Jessica grabs his little hand and walks him to the living room. She turns on the television.
“Concepts may not be suitable for children under 8. Space Specter is on every day at 10am and lasts for one hour. It’s about a ghostly super hero who travels in time and space to occupy the minds of others. In every episode he alters one person’s behavior to better the universe. Universalism is built up more with an almost villainous seeming hero. Sentient being rights and freedom are not Space Specter’s concern. It’s all chagrin. Universalism is essentially the same as Globalism and the efforts to create a One World Government on Earth. The cartoon is rated for ages 8 to 12.”
The female cyborg speaks up, “He loves the cartoon Mrs. Sky. It’s really pretty simple. He sits kneeling and with his body erect the whole time. Jet will have a nice strong core.”
The female cyborg says, “Honey. We’re not telling the whole truth.” Her husband butts in.
“We can’t say. It puts our baby in jeopardy.”
“Yogh! You two cyborgs better get to the chase, or I aren’t taking your baby.”
“The times that we had sex don’t coincide with the pregnancy. My wife thinks it’s immaculate conception.”
Jessica brushes that bit of nonsense of with a wave of here hand. “And cyborgs don’t scare, and I have a job search to begin. So lets start in on the paper work shall we?”
The Ultrix agent who first spoke says, “A wise decision Jessica. You’re very intuitive. A government job search will serve you well.”
Jessica says “Well. If you’re really the answer to my financial woes, I’ll raise him up. Yep. I’m betting on it.”
The supplemental Ultrix spook says, “Magistrates are our resolve for a great many difficulties. This will only take about 15 minutes.” The magistrate begins pulling documents out of his satchel.
The very next day Jet’s kneeling on the floor about five feet from the television screen in Jessica’s living room. At the beginning of the 10am cartoon a message appears on the screen:
“Eternally haunted, and graciously fed.”
But Jet loves it. He laughs and knocks his fist on the hard wood floor.
“You’re easily preoccupied. I better start planning.” Jessica starts a list beginning with legal paperwork, an expanded job search, pre-school, and sports – she doesn’t stop there. She lists everything right up to and immediately after high school graduation. She predicts he’ll join the military right out of high school. “A ‘B’ average doesn’t get you a free ride in college little fella. I think a hero will start out fighting for our country. I wasn’t a top scholar myself, but you and I can figure this out. It’s not rocket science.”
