Julia
Chapter One



Alexandria, Louisiana
December 31, 2000
5:45 a.m.



The buses were running again.  Huge, lumbering
elephants that saved on diesel fuel by carrying
many passengers at one time.  Air transportation
of any sort was strictly forbidden to the
public; railways were now used to transport
'merchandise.'  Cars were one of the first
material possessions that were declared to be
unnecessary by the Appointing Authority.  The
population had to work for the good of all now,
and luxuries like automobiles didn't fit the
plan.  Any needs would be taken care of by the
government.

For a while, one needed good legs to get around,
either that or a good bicycle or scooter.  But
once the Processing Facilities were up and
running, a more efficient means of delivering
workers to the sites was needed.  The Trailways
Bus made a dramatic comeback.

Julia walked into the bus station, her senses on
the alert for anything out of the ordinary.  She
wasn't here for the usual reasons; she wasn't a
facility worker, so she tread with extra care.

There were only a handful of travelers waiting
in the musty lobby.  A couple of Facility
workers, their badges sporting the big purple
'H,' were obviously on their way to Houston.  In
the middle of the room, surrounded by luggage,
was a slim, almost clownish woman.  One more
coat of lipstick and her mouth would look like a
baboon's ass, Julia thought.  Counting herself
and the soldier in the corner, that made five. 
Not very efficient this morning; too few people
to make the trip worthwhile.  But she knew that
it was the only one going to Houston this week,
and she hoped they would think twice about
cancelling it.  Getting to Houston was
imperative.

She couldn't be sure, of course, but she
estimated the world's population to be roughly
one-half of what it once was.  Not bad for seven
months of round-the-clock herding.  The bees
weren't as efficient as the Invaders had hoped;
one of the drawbacks to their genetic alteration
was a vastly accelerated metabolism.  Within two
hours of the release of the swarms, the
thumbnail-sized carriers of death had burned
themselves out.

Pockets of resistance fighters had sprung up
almost immediately, burrowing into city
basements and mountain caves.  Roughly half the
population had been infected, and though
resistance had seemed futile, they had to try. 
Julia had joined in the underground hope,
surrender abhorrent to her nature.

Within two weeks, word filtered down that the
Invasion, called a failure by those in
burgeoning power, wasn't exactly the victory
over the colonists they claimed.  The black oil,
an unstoppable force that should have done its
job in a few days, had mutated while being
carried by the bees.  Instead of the
extraterrestrial biological entity that was
expected by the Invaders, something far more
hideous was born from those infected.

A mangled cross between alien, human, and Apis
mellifera scutellata, the fledgling creatures
could survive for no longer than several
minutes.  Distorted video of the newborns was
smuggled into the bunker where Julia had lived;
it turned her stomach to see the horrible
combinations of wings and limbs, mandibles and
mouths, and single and compound eyes.

In all her life, she never thought she'd see the
day where she would admit that aliens existed. 
The shadow government she knew to be capable of
just about anything had always seemed to be the
culprit behind the alien hoaxes.

But once she saw the features of the newborns,
she knew it to be true.  Aliens did exist and
they were bent on colonizing.  Just not as
quickly as they'd thought.

On the other hand, there were some that were
stung by the bees and never showed symptoms at
all.  Julia herself was one of those, though she
knew it wasn't just because of blind luck.  And
she'd spoken to others like her, though it
wasn't something you broadcast around.  But the
others, unlike her, had never been vaccinated
against the original virus.  Why had the
vaccination worked against the mutated virus? 
Or had it even worked at all?

This was one of the reasons she was in the bus
depot.  The journey toward the answer to that
puzzling question began here.

It was after those first two horrible weeks that
the messages started.  First, a chilling five
minute speech by the new man in power, the
'Appointing Authority,' he called himself. 
Explaining that the old government was no more;
decimated by infection, it could no longer serve
in the new role demanded by Invasion.  In his
role as special advisor to FEMA and the U. N.,
he was happy to serve as temporary leader.  He
smiled when he said that the populace should be
grateful he was on good terms with the Invaders.

Of course FEMA, with its broad, sweeping powers,
was the perfect agency to put the country - if
not the world - back on its feet.  He
immediately declared a state of martial law and
promised the people a return to normalcy as soon
as possible.

They could co-exist in peace and harmony, he
said.  But resistance had to cease immediately. 
Those still able to work would be classified
according to ability, and put into areas that
were most in need.  Society would be re-
established and brought into a new age of
prosperity.  The Invaders were willing to halt
the release of the infectious bees and help move
the planet into a technological era once thought
to be unattainable.  All the humans had to do
was cooperate.  Beginning by letting themselves
be tested on in hopes of erasing any lingering
threat from the mutated virus.  During this
testing, all disease would be eradicated.  A
cure for cancer?  Of course - the Invaders had
everything.  Food, housing, jobs?  Absolutely. 
There was more than enough to go around.

It was so familiar to Julia, the rhetoric she'd
only seen in ancient newsreels featuring Nazi
idealism.  Let's help out those unable to
contribute to our new society, he purred.  Those
who proved themselves valuable would go far in
the new world; they would be left when all was
said and done to make the Earth into a planet of
wealth and happiness.  The others... the weak
and the sick... they would be taken care of,
placed in hospitals and nursed back to health.

The population, frightened and scattered, were
easy targets for a propaganda machine under the
control of the new Master.  Eager to believe
they could still have their modest homes with a
two-car garage, they bought into the message
with hope. 

But the new Master neglected to tell them that
with classification and testing came a chance of
'repatriation.'  By the time the people had
bought into this new society, it was too late. 
The Appointing Authority had insisted in his
messages that 'repatriation' was not re-
infection.  Those who disappeared onto
transports were just being moved to places where
there was a greater need for workers.  Africa,
Asia, the underdeveloped parts of the world
where their help was most needed.

But no one believed it.  Families and friends
were torn apart, those leaving never to be seen
or heard from again.  Those left behind toiled
for the new government because they were afraid
of re-infection.  If you were weak or useless,
you were repatriated.  Simple.

It was impossible not to go; the 'National
Guard,' the conglomerate of what was left of the
military, served as herders of humans, forcing
them to the testing facilities.  They also kept
a lid on the uprisings that happened with
decreasing frequency.

A new holocaust was born; the human commodity
was still valuable.  The harvest was reaped,
just not as quickly as the Invaders had wanted. 
With cynicism and stubbornness, Julia and the
others hidden away knew that it was only a
matter of time before the Invaders perfected
their original plan.  Logically, she knew that
infection was still taking place, though not by
the bees.  Why waste the effort?  Just bring the
humans to the source.  To the ships.

Little by little, humans were becoming extinct.

It was one way to pass the time; walk into any
public place and whip out the mental calculator.
On a post-Invasion Sunday morning like today,
there were maybe fifty or so unfortunate souls
standing in line at the commodity dispensary,
where before, there were restaurants in her old
neighborhood that teemed with Sunday brunchers. 
Cheese, bread and dented cans of peaches; gone
were the days of lazy weekend mornings at the
nearest gourmet deli.  If you were lucky these
days, you might get a piece of beef jerky.  They
knew what they were doing.  To serve the new
society, human muscles required protein now and
then.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd had
beef jerky.  Her arms felt leaden with the
weight of her knapsack.  It wasn't as if she was
carrying gold bouillon.  Just a change of
clothes and a toothbrush.  Every few weeks she
moved on, leaving behind the accumulation of
experience that resulted from interaction with
new faces, new places.  This time, it was a copy
of 'Romeo and Juliet' the nurse at the clinic on
Jackson Street had slipped to her.

Sadly, it was one of the hardest things she'd
ever had to leave behind.  Her eyes had devoured
the words every evening, even after seven
o'clock curfew, when the electricity would
abruptly die.  Thank goodness Mrs. Venucci had
given her a candle her first day at the boarding
house.

"For when you get scared, dear," she'd
whispered.

Julia never got scared anymore.  She'd long
since suppressed that superfluous emotion.  Fear
had no place in this world.  To survive, one had
to become hard.  It had been the first thing to
go, followed by affection and sympathy.  She
accepted the generosity of others with a polite
nod, but never said, "Thank you."  From the
moment her world had collapsed seven months ago,
she'd done nothing but plan.  There was one
final step to be taken.  It began with a trip to
Houston, Texas.  One of the closer regional hubs
where she was sure to be spotted.  New Orleans
was out of the question; the National Guard was
not concerned with controlling the Mississippi
River these days.  Half of the city was
constantly underwater since the Corps of
Engineers went the way of the dinosaur.

The bus station in this half-dead city was dirty
and dilapidated.  It looked like it had survived
two world wars, three if you counted this one. 
The facility workers milled about, avoiding eye
contact with each other and especially with the
National Guardsman that kept bored watch from
the far corner.  He wasn't interested in their
travel plans.  It was obvious that he was a kid
just struggling to keep awake.  Every now and
then, an electrical shock from the black
wristband would jolt him and he'd stand a little
straighter.  It would have been amusing, really,
if she felt like laughing.

"One ticket to Houston," she said, approaching
the pock-marked, greasy man behind the cage. 
She was careful not to get too close, keeping
her head lowered.

"Your pass," he replied in a stained voice, a
cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

She wasted no time in fishing it out of the
pocket of her pea coat.  Julia Longfellow, it
read.  Serial number 904576, test subject
Priority One.  He arched an eyebrow at the large
number '1' emblazoned in black ink.

"We don't get many like you," he stated,
stamping a red 'ALX' under the line of cities
that included Portland, Santa Fe, and Dubuque. 
All legitimate testing facilities, small enough
to avoid undue attention.

Julia didn't answer.  This man was, in all
probability, one of the network of spies and
informants that dotted the landscape these days. 
A fine sheen of sweat broke out under her black
turtleneck.  Every time she had to produce the
forged pass, she wanted to say the 'Hail Mary,'
even though it would do no good.  Prayer was
obsolete, not to mention forbidden.

The Underground had done an excellent job,
however, and not just with the pass.  Her eyes
had been narrowed in Santa Fe, her chin widened
in Portland.  Alexandria was home to the
rhinoplasty expert, operating under the guise of
internist.  She fingered the chunky bandage
covering her nose.  God, she would miss her
nose.

The ticket slid under the two inch gap between
the wire and the counter.  "Implantation or
removal?" he asked, nodding toward her face,
noting the two bruised blue eyes.

"Implantation," she replied shortly.  She
watched him pale, hoping she'd scared the shit
out of him.  That's what you get for being nosy,
buddy.  She didn't want to give out any more
information than was necessary, but she so loved
frightening potential spies.  It was the only
fun she seemed to have these days - implying
that it could happen to you.  What did that old
bumper sticker say?  Oh yeah, 'shit happens.' 
Well, so did implantation, many times without
benefit of anesthetic.

Julia had also learned that the human
experimentation was not just for the benefit of
the Invaders.  The Appointing Authority was
planning ahead.  After all, there would be a few
left when all was said and done.  Someone had to
repopulate the world; may as well be a
genetically engineered race that was disease
resistant and highly intelligent, with a life-
span in the hundreds.  It wouldn't be the
thousands that were undergoing the tests,
though.  No, their sacrifice would enable the
doctors to give the leaders immortality.

It was in this guise that she moved freely
across the country.  You were lucky - or
unlucky, depending on your point of view - if
you were selected for that type of testing. 
Your value exceeded all others; you were
guaranteed a place in the new world.

If you survived the testing.  Survived the
implants and transfusions and gene therapy. 
Thank goodness for the pass.  It afforded her
some freedom of movement, some modicum of
respect.

Gathering her knapsack, she backed away, then
turned to await the arrival of the bus.  The
ancient clock on the wall read 5:57 a. m.;
another ten minutes and it would be here.

"Wait," she heard from behind her.

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard.  What if
this time, greasy man had caught on where all
the others hadn't?  Maybe she would say that
prayer now.

"Yes?" she breathed, turning to meet his black
gaze.  Don't flinch, she told herself.  Act
normal.

He leaned in closer, his face almost pressed
against the wire, and she was assaulted by the
oppressive stench that wafted from him.  "Wanna
cigarette, baby?"  The question was accompanied
by a blackened smile.

Gall rose in the back of her throat.  His thinly
veiled offer was not surprising; bartering for
things such as cigarettes, liquor or drugs these
days usually meant the provider of such goods
expected sex in return.  She thanked her lucky
stars she wasn't one of the unfortunates that
wallowed in addiction.  It was hard enough just
to face each day without having to face it under
the grunting stench of someone like the man
before her.

"No," she said, trying not to let her disdain
for him leak out in her voice.  Seemed her
status as a Priority One test subject meant
nothing to this weasel.  She schooled her
features into a cool mask.  "I don't smoke."

Thankfully, his pursuit of Julia was cut off by
the sudden flickering of the television in the
far corner.  The four tones, repeated three
times, signaled that a message from the
Appointing Authority was about to be
transmitted.  Julia was positive it wasn't a
belated Merry Christmas.

Warning bells went off in her head; she knew she
shouldn't be watching, but she found it
impossible to look away.

The vivid test pattern gave way to a man seated
at a desk, very much reminiscent of the
President's addresses to the nation in years
past.  It wasn't the White House; she'd heard it
now lay in ruins.  But she was positive the
broadcast originated from Washington, D. C.

Snakes never strayed far from the den.



Continued in 1a