by Sara Wolf
He watches the fire crackle. “It’s impossible.”
“Eleven years ago, people said meeting aliens was impossible, too.”
There’s a deep silence.
“Friends, huh?” Shadus murmurs. The bonfire crackles and snaps. The smile that blossoms makes him look like a different person. He looks up at me. A little bit of happiness, and the dark sadness on his face dissolves and leaves behind a boy. A boy who looks very, very human. A boy who looks hopeful.
“I’d like that,” He says.
***
Oliver Sanders is the first EVE to get kicked out of Green Hills High.
Nobody knows about it until the groundskeepers start piling his luggage in the main hall on a Wednesday afternon. Oliver stands nearby, leaning on the water fountain with his head in his hands. Oliver’s Gutter roommate pats him on the back awkwardly, but Oliver bats his hand away. His parents arrive in a green sedan looking absolutely livid but in that special tamped-down, passive-aggressive way only parents can manage. They pack his luggage in the trunk, and drive off with him looking morose in the front seat.
Nobody knows what he did, but the rumor spreads anyway. Alcohol. His roommate, two other EVEs, and Oliver were caught on the roof of the boy’s dorm with a smuggled flask of whiskey. Oliver was the only one to have taken any sips. The rumor says Oliver’s EVE organ would’ve been worth seventy thousand. And he threw that all away. The EVE clinic doctors will take it out, and he’ll get zero money. No wonder his parents looked pissed.
As I watch them go, I’m grateful more than ever that I can’t smoke anymore. Even if it means I get the shakes, and feel like vomiting all the time. Withdrawal is a small price to pay. It could’ve just as easily been me sent home if Shadus hadn’t stepped in. I do miss Mom, and the smell-memory of her. That’s a little bigger price to pay. But I pay it because no one else will.
Because I’m the only one who can help my family.
I walk up to Yulan’s office door. It’s time for my monthly EVE checkup again. Just as I’m about to knock, I notice the door is slightly cracked, and voices are filtering out. Two voices I know well.
“ – are you saying? The test results can be unreliable,” Raine hisses.
“You know just as well as I do our EVE technology is flawless. There is no mistake. Her blood says she’s reacting. After eleven years, someone is finally reacting,” Yulan’s voice whispers. There’s a long pause before Raine sighs.
“Father and his scientist groupies will be thrilled.”
“May I remind you I’m one of those ‘groupies’,” Yulan chides gently.
“Don’t play games. You’re different. You’re the only one on my side.”
“The right side,” Yulan corrects her. “The side that doesn’t want war.”
“I won’t tell father,” Raine concludes. “Keep monitoring her. Do not speak of this to anyone, especially not Taj. The Adjudicators could ruin everything if they found out.”
“And what about Shadus?”
“I’ll approach him with the news - test the waters. He’s unpredictable. He isn’t bound to the law like Taj, so we must be careful. We need him, but he’s the wildcard, and he could rob us of all our power if he chooses wrongly.”
There’s another pause, and then Raine speaks.
“He’s my father, but I won’t let him get away with it, Yulan. Don’t let your memories of the old Jerai cloud your determination now. That Jerai is long gone, replaced with a madman.”
Yulan lets out a breath. “I know.”
The door opens suddenly, and Raine and I come face to face. Her expression is startled.
“V-Victoria?”
“Hi,” I make my voice pant-y, like I’d run here. “I’m here for my monthly check-up.”
Raine smiles, relieved. “Oh? Go on in, then. I’ve got a cheer practice to lead. I’ll see you tonight.”
She waves as she leaves. Maybe she noticed my lie. Maybe she didn’t. Why did I lie at all? I have no idea. Shadus told me to trust no one. Dad told me to be careful. So I’m being extra not-trusty and careful.
Yulan smiles and ushers me to sit on a pleather stool. He readies the blood-drawing needle while I stare at his back.
“Something the matter, Victoria? You’re awfully quiet this time around.”
His smile is genuine, his eyes innocent and sky-gray, almost like he hadn’t been talking about clandestine secrets just a moment before.
“It’s nothing,” I shake my head. “I’m just tired.”
“Be sure to get lots of rest, and drink water.” He insists. I watch him draw my blood and put the vial of it in the machine emitting blue light.
“That thing scans my blood, right?”
Yulan looks at me almost too sharply. Then he regains his smile.
“Yes. It also measures the health of your EVE organ.”
“And I’m doing fine?”
“You’re doing wonderfully,” He assures me. I swear I heard a tremble in his voice, but I brush it off.
“Why are some EVEs getting more money and some less?” I ask.
Yulan adjusts his glasses. “Some EVEs are simply more compatible with the organ than others. The greater the compatibility, the higher quality the emotions will be. I wouldn’t pay the same price for a regular mushroom and a truffle now, would I?”
I shake my head.
“Your blood looks fine,” Yulan says as he inspects the paper the blue-light machine prints out. “And your EVE organ is doing remarkable. Keep this up, and your family will be well taken care of.”
I leave his office and pause at the door. Curiosity burns in my lungs, so I open it a tiny crack. Yulan sits at the counter, staring at my blood paperwork. He murmurs to himself, lowly and brokenly.
“Asara help us all.”
6. The Temperance
I’ve got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s the sort of feeling I got when the hours would waste into the night and Dad still wouldn’t be home. The feeling I got in the polive station, waiting for Dad to pick me up after I saw Mom killed. A sick, burning feeling, like I’m going to burst into flame at any second.
‘After eleven years, someone is finally reacting’.
Yulan’s words reverberate in my head like a muffled tape recorder. I can’t look Raine right in the eyes, anymore, but I force myself to so she won’t suspect something’s wrong. She’s good at faking body language, and even better at reading fakers. What are she and Yulan planning? Her father, Jerai, is plotting something too? And she and Yulan are plotting against him?
‘I’m on the right side. The side that doesn’t want war’.
War. That word coming from a Gutter’s mouth sends cold dread dripping down my vertebrae. And who is the ‘she’ they talked about? The one who’s blood is reacting? It can’t be mine. I’m normal. I’m fine.
I have to tell someone about this. Anyone. But I can’t trust anyone, not here. I don’t like anyone enough to trust them. No one’s been truthful with me. No one except –
The only person I can trust is the person who told me not to trust anyone. The person who told me about his mom when I told him about mine.
I track down Shadus at his locker. He looks weary, dark circles under his eyes and his cheekbones sharper than ever.
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask. Shadus looks up and shrugs. It’s then I notice the half-healing scratches covering his hands. “Jesus - what happened?”
“Yali,” he says hoarsely. I give him a stern look, but he doesn’t explain further. “It’s none of your concern. Why did you wish to speak to me?”
“I can’t be concerned about you, now?”
“That would be becoming friendly. And we agreed not to do that,” He points out. “Now, why did you seek me out?”
I frown. He’s getting injured by the yali, and it’s my fault. It’s supposed to be my yali.
“If they’re hurting you, yali is officially a sick tradition. I don’t care if that’s racist. That aspect of your culture
is sick and wrong.”
“It’s how we do things,” He sighs. “Please, just tell me what you’re here for, so you can leave.”
“Why do you want me gone so bad? Do I stink or something?” I sniff at myself. “Do I smell like really good food? Because Taj sniffed me, and frankly I don’t want you sniffing me either.”
Shadus looks amused for a split second. “Taj…sniffed you? Of course he did. He’s always had terrible control over his impulses.”
“It was even creepier than you, Creeps.”
Shadus chuckles, but his face quickly goes dark.
“It’s not you that stinks. It’s my locker.” He motions to the closed locker. I lean in and wrinkle my nose. I catch the faint whiff of something rotting.
“Ugh, what is that?”
Shadus sniffs. “Dead amphibian. Frog, perhaps.”
“Is that part of the yali? You have to clean dead frog out of your locker too?”
Shadus’ red eyes bore into me patiently, and I sigh.
“Fine, fine! Whatever. It’s your duty, or some shit like that. I just – I just wanted to tell you something. About something I overheard.”
He quirks a dark brow. “Oh?”
As I relay what I heard in the nurse’s office, Shadus’ eyes get progressively more surprised. There’s a long silence when I finish, people pushing around us to get to their next class. Shadus stares at me, then out the window, then looks back at me as if he’s about to speak.
“Victoria!” Dakota pushes through the crowd. When she sees Shadus, her smile falls off.
“Hey.” I smile for her, and a thought hits me. Dakota is nice to the point of shyness, and she’s a decent human being. She’d be a perfect first friend for a Gutter. I clear my throat. “Dakota, this is Shadus. Shadus, Dakota. She’s really good at dodge ball.”
The last comment makes Dakota grin a little, but she’s still nervous. Shadus looks to me, confused.
“She’s kind of a friend of mine,” I stress.
A look of realization crosses his face as he nods at Dakota.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“N-Nice to meet you, too.”
There’s a pause, both of them looking away from each other. I sigh.
“Right, so this is the part where you skip the messy bonding bits and become best friends in two seconds.”
“I thought you said you knew what you were doing.” Shadus raises an eyebrow and turns to Dakota. “She lied to me. She’s clearly more socially inept than I am.”
I’m about to quip something when Dakota’s round face darkens with anger.
“She’s not! She might b-be really blunt and angry-looking, but she’s really nice!”
Shadus stares at her with his signature searing gaze, but she doesn’t cower. The Dakota who avoids everyone’s eye contact is stubbornly staring back. Shadus raises an eyebrow at me.
“It seems you have a loyal defender.”
“Friend,” I correct. “There’s a difference.”
The bell rings for second period, a shrill knife between the two halves of clashing silence. Shadus nods.
“It was good meeting you, Dakota.” He looks to me. “You and I will talk next week, in study hall.”
Dakota’s red face only subsides when he walks away. I put my arm around her shoulder.
“What was that all about? You were pretty cool.”
“I-I just don’t want him to say things that hurt you.”
“That’s just how we are,” I laugh. “Him and I decided to actively not be friends.”
“But – he’s your culture partner,” Dakota insists. “I’m sort of friends with mine. A-Aren’t we supposed to be?”
I shrug. “It just feels forced. And there could be trouble, you know. For partners that get too friendly.”
Dakota frowns. “Just b-because there’ll be trouble doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it.”
I don’t know how right she is, or how wrong I am. But her words ring in the halls purer and truer than mine.
***
As the dying autumn begins to lose color the school blooms with it - frost blues, regal golds, and blood reds. Thanksgiving comes and goes without much ceremony, other than turkey with cranberry sauce served for dinner that day. Of course the faculty wouldn’t want to make a big deal of it – Thanksgiving is a celebration of the beginning of colonialism in America, when the Europeans essentially invaded the Native American’s lands. It strikes too close to home, with the Gutters crash landing in America and all.
Shadus seems keenly aware of this fact. The next time we have study hall is right after Thanksgiving.
“The Native American people and Gutters share many similarities,” he says lightly as he puts a book back on a shelf. “We are a proud, noble people. We’ve both been confined to reservations by the same people. And we are monitored closely and controlled by your government.”
“Except there’s the fact you come from outer space. Oh, and they’re mammals. And you’re reptiles.”
“We do have scales, and our young hatch from eggs,” He says thoughtfully. “But we aren’t cold-blooded, and we don’t eat our own kind. Your human scientists haven’t come up with a definition for us, yet.”
“Ooh, ooh, I’ve got one!” I raise my hand. “Emotionus Eaterus.”
He rolls his eyes, a very human gesture I’ve never seen him do before.
“Regardless, after Thankspitying comes the Gutter holiday of Owakess. We’ve reconciled our 902-cycle calendar with Earth’s 365-day calendar, so Owakess always falls on the first of December.”
“Lemme guess,” I wad up a spare paper and chuck it at him. He dodges smoothly, (without looking, the showoff) and keeps returning books to shelves like it never happened. “Owakess involves ritual fighting. Maybe some blood. Someone’s fingers get broke, also.”
Shadus smirks. “You really know nothing.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Owakess is a night of dancing to commemorate the end of the Grand War three thousand ujuns ago.”
I stare at him blankly. He translates.
“Seven thousand years.”
I feel my jaw drop a little. He’s pleased at my reaction, because he barrels on.
“The Grand War was fought between Asara and Umala. It divided the four continents and caused a civil war among the Gutters. Brother fought brother. Sister assassinated Sister.”
“Wait, wait! But Asara and Umala…those are your goddesses. They aren’t real.”
Shadus smiles. “Asara and Umala were very real. As were Shototh and Latori. They weren’t born from Yu. There was no Great Father Yu. That’s just religious embellishment. They were female Gutters born to other Gutters who lived in ancient times.”
“B-But – But why are they –”
“Revered as gods now? That’s simple. They were born with power.”
“Power?”
“The power of zol,” Shadus snaps his fingers. “To explode.”
I’m at a loss. Shadus sits at the table, crossing his arms in front of him and a serious look growing in his ruby eyes.
“On our planet, we farm a species of animal known as lemak. We used to hunt them, but after years of advancing our technology, we discovered it was easier to breed and keep them. Lemak come in many types, and flavors, and they are plentiful. But most importantly, they are the only animal on our planet capable of producing rotssa - tangible emotions.”
I quirk a brow. Shadus leans in, voice lowering.
“It’s like a cloud that follows them. Your human mystics would call it an ‘aura’, but it’s more real than that. It is a field of organic electromagnetic waves that emit from the creature’s heads. They produce it in great quantity, and use it to communicate with each other.”
I open my mouth, and he holds up a finger.
“Before you harp on me about how it’s inhumane, know this – their emotion-producing capabilities are strong, but their intelligence is borderline. They’re no smarter or more self-
aware than your average deer.”
“So you guys evolved to hunt them.”
“Precisely. We are highly specialized creatures whose evolution revolved around chasing, hunting, and eating lemak. Humans needed sight to hunt buffalo and mastodons. We needed our sense of smell to follow the lemak’s waves. You humans evolved to eat many different kinds of foods. We have only ever eaten one.”
“So, back to Asara and Umala –”
“Right, right,” Shadus claps his hands softly and leans back. “As I was saying, we’ve evolved to hunt lemak. We have fangs, tails, claws. We are tripedal to ensure maximum speeds on sand and maximum balance on mountains the lemak like to hide in.”
“Tripedal?” I hiss. “Like, three legs?”
He nods, smirking. “If it’s too strange, I’ll stop here – ”
Curiosity makes me jump in. “No, no it’s fine. Keep going.”
“We’ve evolved all these different body parts, all these different senses, just to hunt lemak. But Asara and Umala…they evolved beyond that. Evolution gave them a hunting weapon more powerful than any claw. Asara and Umala were Gutters who could manipulate the electromagnetic field of a lemak and turn it in on the lemak’s own brain. The result was a massive electrostatic surge that wiped out all vital nervous systems of the lemak.”
Shadus’ smirk grows somber, but it’s still full of pride.
“Herds would simply drop dead, their emotions free for the eating. The Gutters would pick them clean, use the fur for beds and the bones for tools, and the meat would go to our pets and work animals. In a time when lemak were scarce and the Gutter civilization was dwindling, Asara and Umala were saviors. They were heroes.”
I run my hands through my hair. “So where did it go wrong?”
Shadus smiles bitterly. “Asara and Umala had a falling out.”
“Over what?”
“A mate, of course. Jealousy is not exclusive to humans. Asara continued to help build the Gutter civilization, and under her leadership great cities rose. Ships were built, connecting the continents and uniting our people. Technology advanced. But Umala went down a darker path. She went into seclusion, honing her zol in the Deadlands. She used all manner of test subjects, and soon, lemak weren’t the only things she could kill with a mere thought.”