Stien and Henshaw

 Originally titled "Henshaw's Absolution" But then I realized there is another 'monster' whose true nature is explained. Elana. Who is half-Enkaren. Also explains what the heck the original alien race Enkarens even are.

Walking the Border

“Why are you so distant all the sudden?” Martin Stein asked of his companion. “I would think letting the proverbial cat out of the bag would make it easier to talk to me about whatever's on your mind.”

“You're right it would, and I haven't yet.” Elana said shortly. “There is A-lot that goes along with this that I've rarely told anyone. You and I have a longer conversation ahead of us than...well...we have a long conversation ahead of us...and it won't be fun going back there.”

“Do you mean that you hid who you really were all this time, not because you were an alien, but for everything that goes along with it?”

“I wasn't hiding being an alien, I was hiding being a FREAK!” Both parties stopped in their tracks. There was a stranger in front of them. A bipedal individual who looked unusually calm, and decidedly not human. His skin was a dark, molted green his hairless cranium swept upward and back slightly, away from his face, which was set in determination. “Who are you?” He asked grimly. “What are you doing here?”

Martin raised his hands up, to either side of his face as if arrested. But he made no reply.

Elana held her hands down and away from her sides in a non-threatening pose. “We mean you no harm and we are not here for you, in any sense of the phrase. We simply needed a place to talk, away from the maddening crowd. This wilderness seemed to qualify.”

“If you are from the United States, it seems a long way to go for a little privacy.”

“I am originally, but I have lived the last two years in Guatemala City. Please if it is information or answers you want from us, I am the one who can provide them. I take my oath on it we mean you no harm, and *I at least will cause you no trouble.”

“Do you think he'll understand the difference?” Martin told Elana in a cold whisper.

“That neither of you set out to hurt me, and no matter my intent she will not resist me.” The alien said easily. “Yes I understand the difference. It's a statement she cannot make on your behalf, even if she believes it to be true. She speaks as she does because she knows the difference. That is, what difference it can make talking to someone who doesn't use language the same way. Regardless we should not stay out here. I will take you to Arias.”

Several hours later Martin and Elana found themselves looking around at a village of indigenous humans, and a few foreign faces that seemed to have integrated well in the neighborhood. As Martin looked closer he noticed that the people with strange faces were strange indeed, a few were not entirely human. The alien who was their host led them to a plain concrete building and motioned them inside. It was a one room schoolhouse, or might have been used for one. Plastic chairs were spread across the wall to the left and rectangular carpets or rugs dotted the wall to the right. There was no other furniture except a flat rectangle Martin first mistook to be a coffee table, but realized it was a sleeping mat, propped up on cinder blocks. Martin turned to face his host. “Alright I understand how things can look one way and be another, so I need clarification, more specifically I need an answer: are we prisoners here?”

Their green-skinned host looked both impressed and surprised by the question. “In so far as I will not let you leave, yes. However I do not intend to treat you as prisoners. Your friend had it right. I am in need of explanations, of answers. As she offered them freely, no persuading or..” He left the word 'interrogation' heard but unsaid. “..will have to happen.” My name is J'onn Jo'nzz. A friend of mine will be in soon to see to your needs.” With that he inclined his head to Elana and left them alone.

“He is a weird one for his kind.” Elana said in an undertone.

“You know his kind?” Martin said somewhat shocked.

“By reputation. My mother was EnKaran, I learned as much about aliens as her people knew. And if I'm right about his race, he is a positive exception to his people....But I might not be right.”

“Answer this, what is it about being a freak that you distinguish from being an alien? If racism and xenophobia don't enter into your reluctance to speak on the matter, where does this reticence come from?”

“ 'Freak' is an inaccurate word. It's just the only word I know that conveys the appropriate sentiment of aversion. The aversion isn't to being an alien. That's not what's wrong with me. I'm a half-breed.”

“You sound like someone I once knew.” A voice said from the door. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. J'onn asked me to bring you something to eat.” The man stepped further into the room. A well-built man in his mid-forties with windswept black hair and a curious expression on his face.

“Jeremiah, is that you?” Elana said, holding her hand up to block the glare of the sun.

“Well, that explains why you talk like Sarin.”

“My name is Elana now. It has been for three and a half years.”

“Obviously some serious stuff has happened since we met.” Jeremiah said wistfully.

The young woman held her hand out, palm down in a kind of wait-a-minute gesture. “Martin needs answers as badly as our host. He only recently learned I AM an alien. He doesn't know the history that goes with it. I intend to address with direct and brutal honesty my time at the DEO and why I was released. Along with how ironic it is that the very thing that gave me my freedom and frankly saves his life... isn't what either of them are thinking. Do I assume correctly your Martian friend is listening? This story is for his ears also.”

“He can hear you.” Jeremiah said simply, tapping the side of his head.

“Fair enough. But come closer Jeremiah, you too Martin. This will take some time.”

Martin Stein walked closer to the table, upon which Jeremiah had set two plates of fruit. The men sat down but Elana stayed standing. “How can your alien blood save my life?” The former DEO agent asked simply.

“I have to go back to when Jeremiah and I met for that one. Which is where my story starts. I met Jeremiah and a man named Hank Henshaw at the DEO. Which is short for 'Department of Extra-normal Operations', an organization established to protect Earth from alien threats and which detains hostile aliens. Of course they have to determine whether an alien is a threat, either as an individual or their race. In the cases of Gemm and Dregga, overtly aggressive individuals with super-think skin to match their thick skulls this is a simple matter. But I looked human, and refused to answer questions about my home-world. Which meant Hank had his work cut out for him. Unfortunately for him and as he eventually realized, I refused to answer questions about my home-world because I was born in Salida Colorado 31 years ago. Director Henshaw wanted to know if my race simply looks this close to human or if I was using some facial holographic imaging system to look normal. I couldn't talk about it with him, or with anyone really. Hank Henshaw misinterpreted my reluctance as refusal, and kept asking. Eventually I literally laughed in his face. I explained to him, as I am to you now Martin, that I look as human as I do because genetically I am half-human. My mother was Enkaren. My father was born in Winchester Virginia. Once this was known, Hank decided I didn't belong in his jurisdiction, or purview. I wasn't literally an alien from the stars. And I wasn't hiding who I was by looking like this, I wasn't hiding or lying about anything. I was no obvious threat and would never decide to be...even if I was as imposing or physically capable as the other examples I have names I would never chose to hurt someone. I took an oath to this effect in front of Hank and Jeremiah and was released on my own recognizance, after swearing also an oath fo secrecy concerning the existence fo the DEO itself.” Martin Stein looked down, as though embarrassed about something but raised his head almost immediately as the story continued. “It was...almost five years later that I met you Martin. When you told me what was wrong with you I realized I could help you, which was both beautiful and strange. If I was fully of my mother's people, we would not have been compatible.”

“Speaking of that.” Jeremiah prompted. “I apologize, I'm sure it's very personal but I must ask this for my own sake. From what I understand, whatever it is you see as a mistake or flaw in your biology is letting you save his life...how is that?”

“Something happened to him three years ago. Think a wave of radiation and a very weak lightning bolt at the same time. It altered the normal molecular processes in his body. He is, reactive...excited in the scientific sense of the phrase. He needs a grounding mechanism to bond to, in order to stabilize. I keep him stable. We merge, he stabilizes. We even share a somewhat local entanglement. My people aren't psychic but I share that kind of connection with him. We are as Martians, Euphorians and Naltorians would say, attuned. When we merge, and we must regularly every 5 days or so, we become literally fused into one. It's because of my human DNA that I'm compatible with him. And because of my mixed heritage I take it with so little emotional weight or irrational resentment.”

“You were part of a 'mixed marriage'.” Jeremiah said thoughtfully. “I never knew that.”

“Well we couldn't exactly call each-other friends.” Elana said sardonically.

“I'd like to think we were friends.” Jeremiah replied, sounding slightly hurt.

“For my people friendship requires an equality and companionship that was impossible for us back then. As individuals, of course we like each-other well enough and got along. For us the word 'friend' doesn't mean we get along or we like each-other. Co-pan-ion would be a better translation, a closer match. You and understood each other, but we couldn't talk as equals. The whole 'time and experience' thing.”

“You were an agent at the DEO?” Martin Stien asked, suddenly far less comfortable with the man.

“Jeremiah Danvers, is a good man.” The deep voice of the Green Martian interjected. “And yes, he was. But that part of his life is gone. He's free to be who he chooses to be.”

“Hank Henshaw required me to serve under him. And I did, faithfully. I was a scientist who already knew about aliens, having someone like me working at the organization, under his observation made sense. When he made a mistake he admitted it...as he demonstrated when he legally discharged Elana from our care, as though she was a mental patient with a clean bill of health...I mean that literally, we presented her documents to that effect, publicly we don't exist. When we came looking for an 'extremely dangerous alien and found J'onn instead...”

“Why did you think I was so dangerous?” J'onn said mildly. Turning slightly to face Jeremiah more directly he continued. “I've actually never understood that. You spoke to me as a warrior, and somehow understood that I consider...would see you as a threat if not an enemy. How did you know what to expect?”

“The same reason I now know you are a Green Martian.” Elana interjected. “You weren't tapping an earpiece earlier Jeremiah, you were tapping the side fo your head. Your friend and host is a telepath. He can hear, because his psychic abilities allow him to 'listen in'. But you are obviously not Naltorian or Euphorian. Therefore, you are a Martian. And now I know I was wrong about you. My understanding of you, while not without basis, was mistaken. My fear of you was misplaced. I want to apologize.”

“How could you even know this?” J'onn said in bewilderment. “More to the point, why do you see it now, if you couldn't before?”

“If you had been as I took you for, you would never have tolerated Jeremiah by your side.” Elana replied. She looked down uncertainly and stepped closer to Martin Stien. Indicating J'onn she began. “The closest analogy I have is if Neander-tals and Kromaggen men evolved simultaneously instead of sequentially, and at least one of them hated the others guts. My mom taught me what she would have learned in primary school at home, that's how I know so much about other planets, other anatomy and how races so vastly different from each other tend to approach the world..”

“Makes sense.” Jeremiah muttered.

“I can now make a few assumptions of what happened when the two fo you met. Director Henshaw led a team to apprehend and detain, if not eliminate a hostile alien, did he not? You were on that team but somehow convinced your enemy to show mercy. Henshaw went back to civilization, with a new understanding of aliens and a respect for ones enemies. That much at least is fact, established back home. He came prepared for a fight against a formidable and intractable opponent, did he not? Which is how he could earn your respect or you could earn his. Enemies who understand each-other, and both fo you were warriors and spoke with the same understanding. I mean neither of you were civilians and both fo you were strong, had a warrior mentality. Henshaw had the same understandable misunderstanding I did. It was a 'mere facts and basic knowledge' sort of thing.” She rubbed the side of her head and sat cross-legged where she had stood. “The databases at the DEO would have told you what a Martian was capable of, and that they were fierce warriors. But not that TWO races of Martians existed. I didn't know you were Deimos.”

“To continue the metaphor,” Martin said uncertainly. “You knew Neanderthals and Kromaggen men both existed, but did not know how to tell them apart?”

“Even if I had...” She began sharply. “how he treated us would not tell me that. I was an alien and you were something more than human. Even Phobos would have asked questions first, would have been curious about us, would have tolerated us. Jeremiah is nothing but human. They treat humans as less...most races not their own are insects to them. If J'onn had been...what I took him for, a pure-blooded human would sooner be in chains or in a dissection lab than standing next to him unarmed and at peace.”

“Is that true?” Jeremiah asked of the green skinned alien, who nodded solemnly.

“What she refers to as Phobos and Deimos are White and Green Martians. She names us for the two brothers whose rivalry and bloodshed was such that we divided, into what we are like now. Clearly she's never actually met either of us or knowing as she does that they would never chose to look like me...any sooner than I would take their skin...”

“Actually, I think I am responsible for her lack of insight on the subject.” Martin said reproachfully. “I only recently learned she was an alien and was, dejected and insanely frustrated. So much so I would have turned my back on her if I could. But I literally, biologically need her around. And I...hadn't heard any thing about the history we've been talking about in this room. She needed me to understand...and was extremely preoccupied with that goal. And I owe you an apology Elana.” Marin knelt down to look his friend in the eyes. “I had no idea what you must have been though. You weren't hiding your heritage, you were hiding trauma. Everything that's happened because you were different. I had no right to be angry with you for keeping a secret. You literally saved a stranger's life and took zero credit for it. You ARE amazing. If more humans were like you...this world would be a happier place. ”

Elana reached up and embraced her charge. The bond of friendship was not broken, only deepened. I smiled, a little sadly. A thought occurred to me. “I hate to interrupt, but there is something I still do not understand. Something I've been wondering about since you, SARIN, first told me you're half-human.”

“Sarin was my name at birth. When my mom died I took her name as my own. It will be my name until I die. If I have a daughter I will name her one thing and she will take the name Elana upon my death.”

“Matra-lineal?” Marin guessed.

“The same would be true of a husband who had a son. Each side of the family continues it's own linage and genealogy. If my father had a son, and if we continued the tradition, his son, my brother would have a different name now; but not have received it until Henry had died. It's our custom and how we remember ourselves...where any of us come from. And we do mean ANY of us. There is no 'maiden name' because neither side of the family is more important or takes precedence.”

“But your father was a human. And from what you just said, died without having a son.”

“That's where the word and thought of being a freak comes in.” Elana said coldly. “For being half-human, not 'other than' human.”

“Your ire seems self-directed.” Martin observed.

“It is. I can't get around it. It freaking sucks. It doesn't usually bother me but it still sucks.”

“Forgive me for being dense but why is being a 'half-breed' less than normal?” I asked her.

“There are only a small number of species my people are allowed to join with. My mother was considered a rebel and an anarchist anyway but was disavowed for lack of another word because she came here to find a mate. Sounds pretty separatist and elitist right? She thought so too. And her drive to challenge the preconceptions and assumptions of our culture made breaking this particular practice the most natural thing in the world for her. It turned out the rule had nothing to do with racism. Our genetic make-up is such that there are only a handful of species my people can procreate with and produce a healthy child...or a child at all. Elana ran her hand down her shoulder, placed her right palm over her heart, stomach and around her throat, as if pressing on her windpipe. Everything works. Nothing works as well as it Should. We don't have a problem with humans. Being half human hurts.”

“And yet if you were entirely Enkaren, the DEO would have kept you.”

“And it is your biological humanity that allowed you to save my life...every day since we met.” Martin said regret and remorse filling his voice. “No wonder you didn't want to talk about it.”