Chapter 16: New Year's Eve

Al had been faced with a tough decision, when Caleb became his host. Despite the fact that Caleb hadn't been aware of what he was agreeing to, when he accepted Al as a Companion, the human did become Al's host. He held Al's allegiance. That loyalty had driven the decision to hold back the information about the coming apocalypse for the human species. A single Companion, and a single unimportant human, couldn't change the fact that aliens would come with the goal of retribution. Al couldn't stop the reckoning, so he had focused on his host's survival.

Al's goal was broadened to include all humans with Companions, after the surprising development of new Companions coming into this universe. Al had been overjoyed that his species had new hope. The improbability of new Companions in this universe still amazed the alien. The Companion species had accepted the fact that they would eventually expire from the universe. It had never occurred to Al to rethink his initial position on the subject of the Companions protecting only their hosts, and not the human species as a whole.

Companions had helped their hosts advance, and excel, in the eons since the beginning of the universe. That had been accomplished on an individual basis. In societies that included many hosts and their Companions, entire species' could be advanced. However, it had never been an instantaneous process, and the road to advancement had often been rocky. Rationing information to their hosts had been necessary to protect their host's society.

Al's species learned the lessons long ago, that humans were just discovering. When a technically advanced civilization meets a primitive civilization, the primitive civilization is destroyed. The destruction isn't caused by malice, nor is it always intentional. The customs and mental mindset of the primitive society seldom survived the exposure to the advanced technology, and the society the technology had created. Advancements were carefully rationed to protect their hosts.

It had literally been billions of years, since an entire, Companion occupied species, had been faced with annihilation. The shear brute force of the Companion/host linking was not the answer. A more focused consciousness was needed to find solutions to problems at the species level.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of Companions joined, without their hosts direction. Al remembered they called it a melding. The knowledge, experience, and need of the joined Companions, created a consciousness with the sole purpose of protecting their host's species. The collective awareness took on the characteristics of a cohesive, single mind. It was able to address the species-wide issues, while protecting the individual hosts. Al hadn't taught the 'young' Companions how to meld, yet.

Caleb's discovery of the information about the proximity bomb that caused Al's ship to crash, had thoroughly trashed Al's original plans. Oddly enough, it didn't bother the alien. Al had realized that Caleb's ideas, as nebulous as they were, had a real chance of stopping the aliens long enough to save the human species. However, the exposure of the expected alien confrontation caused Al other problems. The new Companions were not happy with Al for not sharing the information about the aliens with them. Al was sure they would be even less happy when he introduced melding to them.

The arguments presented by the other Companions convinced Al that survival of humans and the Companion species were directly linked. He was troubled that he hadn't recognized a fact that was so logical. Al had simply not considered that aspect of the confrontation with the aliens.

The unrest among the Companions did point out a glaring difference between the Companions. Al viewed issues through thirteen billion years of experience. All that experience, and knowledge, were important. It also made him seem jaded in comparison to the other Companions. They were newly arrived in this universe! They were Companions to their first host! Al couldn't remember his first host. He couldn't even remember the type of species of his first host! The situation also proved that experience didn't always have the right answer.

Al knew the task of bridging that gulf of experience would be difficult. Teaching the other Companions what they needed to know to save their hosts, and the entire human race, would be difficult. The new Companions had to learn to meld into a single, thinking entity.

A melding of all Companions would accomplish several things. Sharing experience was actually the least helpful gain from the melding. Lessons learned from shared experience were less pointed than personally learning the lessons. The sharing of knowledge between all Companions was more important. It would ensure that Al wasn't the sole repository of accumulated Companion knowledge on this world. The most important aspect of the young Companions learning to meld, would be gaining the ability to solve large, complex problems, as a single intelligence.

The Companions first task, as melded intelligences, must be to search and evaluate a large group of humans. They must determine who would be viable candidates for the battle to save the human species. Furthermore, the first wave of candidates must be in family groups.

Humans were contrary, and stubborn. They didn't accept the hopelessness of situations like so many of his previous hosts would have. Al's grudging respect for the young species was brought into focus by the stark disapproval of the new Companions. They learned the truth, and his plans to meet the aliens, and they were not happy.

Al couldn't help being amused when he considered the shockwave his species would experience, when these new Companions were débuted on the universal stage. These new, rash, Companions had taken on the character of their first hosts. They were as fearless, determined, and as cunning as the young species that had brought them through the veil.

Gabi couldn't believe it. It was New Year's Eve, and two days ago she wouldn't have bet on tonight being a success for anything. Now, it looked like she would have a near capacity crowd. And not just adults, either. There would be families celebrating New Year's Eve in her restaurant!

She wanted Refugio East to be successful, but her advertising efforts hadn't seemed to be effective. Gabi's goal had been to become known as a reasonably priced, high-end restaurant, that was kid friendly. It was a near impossible balance to strike; it was like finding and keeping the Holy Grail.

Gabi was excited, and afraid that she would do something to mess with this success. Flashes of memories of the last forty-eight hours were, naturally, a distraction. She was trying to keep that whole experience segregated. Gabi knew that there were a lot of issues that she would have to deal with, when she opened that locked box in her mind. Mary helped ... a lot. Gabi promised Mary that she would deal with those issues, after tonight.

Gabi looked over, and let her eyes linger on Singer's back. He was wearing a suit that fit him like a glove. She could almost see the muscles move under the material, or imagined that she could. He shifted his weight to study another customer intently.

Singer had declared himself Refugio East Head of Security for the evening. He understood that he still had a responsibility to the Senator. Singer and Flan had often split security duties to have one acting as close security, and the other maintaining a wider security envelope.

Gabi took a slow, deep breath, held it, before letting it out slowly and looking away.

"Maybe dealing with what you won't allow me to speak about won't be as traumatic as you think," Mary observed in the back of her mind.

"I said I don't want to talk about it," Gabi thought in irritation.

"Talk about what?" Mary asked, innocence dripping from her thoughts.

"Senator McGowan, it's good to see you," Caleb said, meeting Scotty at the entrance to Refugio East.

It was a public setting, and he thought that it would be disrespectful to speak to Scotty the way he did when they were alone. Scotty had explained that winning elections had more to do with perception than substance.

"It's good to see you, too," Scotty said warmly, even though they had been mentally communicating for the last half hour.

The four of them, Scotty, Caleb, Singer, and Flan, had been mentally discussing the security arrangements. Thirty-two members of Caleb's task force, both full-time and part-time, had accepted the invitation to the party. Each of them was armed, as well as most of their significant others. Other than a toast at midnight, they would not be drinking at this New Year's party. Branch was still at large, and every one of them had to be ready to respond, if he was spotted.

"You know Flan, my security guard, and this is his brother, Ryan," Scotty continued with the introductions.

"It is nice to meet you, Ryan," Caleb said, shaking the young man's hand.

Caleb liked the 'vibes' he got from Ryan. The young man was alert, focused, and intelligent.

Caleb took up the introductions, saying, "This is my step-daughter, Kim, her friend, Joyce Graham, and our ward, Cindy Stovall."

Cindy murmured something in response to a greeting, and moved behind Kim. The girl was excited about the party, and dressing up, but she was nervous about being around so many people. She saw Blake across the room, talking to his Grandmother, and mumbled excuses before hurrying to the young man.

"Flan," Caleb grinned, speaking to Ryan's older brother. "You have met Kim, but haven't formally met Joyce, her friend from A&M."

"I'm glad to meet you, Joyce," Flan said, ignoring Caleb's and Scotty's smirks. "My name is James Flannigan, but most people call me Flan."

Joyce gave him a measuring look, before smiling, and decisively saying, "I think I'll call you James."

"She doesn't want to call him Flan, because if they get married, Flannigan would be her last name, too," Al observed privately to Caleb in amusement.

"Do you go to A&M, too?" Ryan asked, turning his attention toward Kim.

"We're freshmen," Kim said, sizing him up, and liking what she saw.

"I haven't seen you around campus," Ryan mused aloud. "I'm sure I would have remembered seeing you."

"Our activities have been limited to classrooms, libraries, and Moses Hall," Kim explained, blushing slightly. "We've been pretty busy trying to get the hang of the whole college thing."

Joyce snorted, before saying, "I can't believe you said that! You're carrying extra credits and still maxing the classes," she snorted again. "I think you've got the hang of the college thing," she added dryly.

Kim shrugged before saying, "One step at a time. I've got my priorities, and right now, education is number one. Besides, I'm having fun!"

Ryan smiled at the interplay before asking, "How do you like Moses Hall? It is one of the older residence halls on campus, isn't it?"

"It's okay," Kim said with a shrug. "It is old, but it was built well, and renovations have made it as convenient as the newer halls. Which hall do you live in?"

"I'm in Wells Hall," Ryan answered.

"Wow! High dollar!," Kim exclaimed with a grin. "That explains why we've never seen each other. Wells is at the opposite end of the campus."

"It isn't that much more expensive," Ryan defended his hall. "It is close to most of my classes. Have you declared a major yet?" he asked, wanting to change the subject.

"Not yet," Kim said with a sigh. "I don't know what I want to do. I mean, there are so many things that I'm interested in. Have you declared your major? What year are you in? You don't look any older than us!"

"I'm a sophomore, and I have declared my major for Aerospace Engineering," Ryan answered with a grin. "It's a field that will be my best chance to get into space."

"Watch out Kim," Flan warned. "My little brother is a space nut. If you let him chose a subject, he'll be talking about space until you go to sleep."

"I'm not that bad," Ryan protested.

"Nope," Flan said, shaking his head. "We're not buying that today. You know you're that bad."

"Well, maybe a little," Ryan said carefully, looking at Kim out of the corner of his eye.

"There's nothing wrong with being a space nut," Kim assured Ryan. "I wouldn't mind going into space, but I don't just want to go. I want to do something when I get there."

Ryan's eyes widened slightly. He was liking what he was hearing, and what he was seeing. This girl certainly wasn't a flighty, airhead blond.

Caleb, chuckling, said, "I placed the eight of you at the table next to ours."

"Eight?" Flan queried.

"Cindy and Blake will be sitting with you guys. I think Kim and Joyce have adopted Cindy, and Blake volunteered to be her escort for the evening."

"I was volunteered," Blake corrected, blushing a bright red, as he joined the group with Cindy on his arm.

"I didn't hear you arguing about it," Kim said with a smirk.

"That's because I was going to ask to be her escort, if I hadn't been volunteered so quickly," Blake said glumly. "I didn't want Cindy to think that I'm with her because I was told to be with her. She's a nice person, and I'm looking forward to spending the evening with her."

"Really?" Cindy asked.

Caleb shook his head with a smile at the interplay before continuing, "Singer and Gabi will have seats there, too, though Gabi will be pretty busy with the restaurant, and Singer watches over her like a mother hen. We can move the tables together later, if we want."

"Let me show you where our tables are," Caleb continued, leading them towards a door to an adjoining room.

"What did you tell those reporters?," Caleb asked Scotty, via their Companions, as they walked. "They're like rabid wolves! They even tried to interview a delivery man!"

"They do get carried away," Scotty agreed. "Don't think about running off. If I'm going to do this, you're going to be with me every step of the way. I was about to get out of this game. Now I'm going to have to put up with all the garbage again. If I have to, so do you. Don't worry, though. Most of the press are pretty good guys. But every group has its ten percent, and that ten percent in the press can be a real piece of work. The press isn't nearly as bad as some of the sharks you're going to meet in Washington, though."

"What did you tell them to get them that hyper?" Caleb asked. "They're acting like sharks in a feeding frenzy."

"I told them that my plans for retirement have been scrapped," Scotty answered. "I also told them I would explain my reasons, tonight, and that only three tables would be reserved for the press. I also promised to explain the new direction I would be taking."

"Scotty, you could sell ice cubes to Eskimos," Caleb said in admiration.

"Senator, I have you seated with our family," Caleb announced aloud, as they entered a large, open dining room. "There are some men and women that wanted to speak to you. They seem very anxious."

Reporters were sitting at three tables along one side of the room. There were eight reporters per table, and twenty-four sets of eyes focused on Scotty as he entered the room. There were twenty-two other tables set up in the room, each capable of holding eight patrons.

A small, local band was set up on the opposite side of the large room on a small stage. They had just started their first set with an old Johnny Winters song. That was appropriate, since Beaumont, Texas was home of the Winters brothers, Johnny and Edgar. Caleb could feel the driving beat, and he had to smile.

"What do you think?" Scotty asked, following Caleb into a second room. "Should we do this before or after dinner?" Scotty asked Caleb, loud enough for the reporters to hear over the music.

Caleb shrugged, before blandly asking, "Which would give us the most peaceful meal?" also loud enough for the reporters to hear. "JJ and her parents are still busy, so you could probably have your say, and take a few questions before dinner."

"Is that okay with you guys?" Scotty called to the reporters.

A chorus of "Yes, Senator," and "Sure," and a few grumbles were heard.

"Okay, but before I do, I want to know who I'm talking too," Scotty replied as he began walking around the three large tables.

Scotty knew some of the reporters, and one of them very well. Most of them were new faces, though, and he discovered why as he shook hands.

His Companion, George (for Scotty's hero, General George Patton), was busily collecting mental signatures. He was also taking something like snapshots of the various personalities present in the reporters' cadre. George was nearly two days old, and this was the first large gathering of humans the Companion had attended.

Scotty faced the tables when he finished, and said, "This is something that I would normally do with a press release," Scotty began. "I apologize for the New Year's Eve plans that I disrupted. I felt that it was too important to wait until everyone got back to work next week. To make up for it, your dinner is on me tonight."

Scotty took a deep breath, and looked from face to face, before he said, "It has been public knowledge that I would not be seeking reelection due to retirement plans. I will still not seek reelection as a Senator, but my retirement plans have been scrapped. I will be exploring the possibility of running for the Presidency. My continued public service will be completely in the hands of American Citizens."

He held up his hand for quiet as a few questions were shouted, a look of annoyance crossing his face, and said, "I choose not to continue serving as a Senator from the State of Texas. I've been away from my home for too long. However, I have been convinced that I can better serve my State and my Country by offering my services in another role: as President. American Citizens will decide to accept my offer, or not."

He held up his hand to quiet the sudden barrage of questions, and frowning, said, "We'll wait to continue when you show a few manners."

It got quiet immediately. People at other tables were listening, and nodded their heads in approval.

Senator McGowan had been a politician for over twenty years. The Washington press corps knew better than to act uncivilized during one of his press conferences. Most of the respondents to his invitation for a New Year's Eve announcement, however, were not the first-string reporters that would normally cover a story like this. A few reporters were smiling, knowing what was coming.

"Thank you," Scotty said. " As you know, I have a reputation for being blunt. I assure you that my reputation is well earned. To demonstrate, I'm going to be blunt now. You ladies and gentlemen don't normally cover the Washington beat, so I'll give you a word for the wise. Reporters in fly-over-country are going to see a lot more of me, over the next few years. As the Washington reporters have learned, I will always answer your questions, if the answer doesn't involve classified material. If I refuse to answer, I will explain why. Above all else, I value courtesy. I give it to others, and expect the same for myself. That is the word for the wise, and please pass that along to your friends."