by Tammy Walsh
There was a chasm between us, a chasm neither of us dared cross. He was returning me home. What happened then between us? Would he join me now? Later? Never? Was our brief adventure over already?
I was sure he wanted to speak with me about something. It was on the tip of his tongue every time he looked at me.
Did he want to stay with me forever? Did he want to give up his smuggling ways and settle down, only didn’t know how I would respond?
It would be with a fist-thumping ‘Yes!’ if he did.
I chewed my bottom lip, biting down on the words I wished I could say, but couldn’t.
“Alice?” Nighteko said.
“Yeah?” I said.
Oh God, please let him tell me he wants to be with me forever and always. It can be my birthday and Christmas presents combined.
After a while, you get used to the ship. I couldn’t tell if we were moving or not but I could feel the dull drumbeat of the engine when it was on. I couldn’t feel it now.
“The engine’s off,” I said.
“I wanted to show you something before we return to Earth,” he said.
His tone was distant but not without warmth. It spawned a flutter of butterflies in my belly.
He led me to the flight deck. On the monitor was the sight of nothing but empty space. There were lots of twinkling stars in the far distance. It was pretty but no different what we’d seen ever since I got sucked into outer space.
“This is the last place I saw you with all your friends together,” Nighteko said.
My heart thundered in my chest. It would be a planet or a moon. He’ll have delivered them to their new masters and we could trace where they went. But I couldn’t see anything.
“Is the planet around us somewhere?” I said.
Nighteko kept his eyes on me. “Computer, give us a panoramic view of our current location.”
The monitor switched between various viewpoints. None of them showed so much as an asteroid.
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“I don’t know where your friends are now. No one does. Except for their new masters.”
My eyes burned. “No. You told me you would help me find them—”
“I told you I would take you to where I last saw them. This is that place. The first of you was delivered and I moved on to another point in space much like this one. No planets or star systems nearby. The masters picked them up, paid me, and disappeared.”
I shoved him. “You lied to me! You said you would help me find them!”
His tone was as hard as it had ever been. “I said I would show you where I last saw them. This is that place.”
“No,” I said, fisting my hair. “No.”
This was wrong, all wrong. My story wasn’t meant to end like this. I was meant to reunite with my friends. This couldn’t be right… It couldn’t be…
“I want you to take me to all the places you handed them over,” I said.
“It’s no good—”
“You have to. I don’t believe you.”
“I’m sorry. Your friends are gone.”
This wasn’t the first time he told me this. He’d told me before in the Titan village…
“Will you ever find them?” I said.
“Once you’re sold into slavery, it’s impossible.”
I’d been so focused on helping him overcome the memory of his parents I hadn’t taken notice of his words. Once you were sold, you never saw them ever again.
“You’re nothing but a smuggler!” I screamed. “I can’t trust a single thing you say! You deal with people’s lives. Lying is your job. You’re a criminal! I just… I don’t…”
I didn’t have the words. I crumpled to the floor.
My friends… I was meant to see them again. It was what I’d done all this for. I sobbed.
He just stood there. He didn’t embrace me, didn’t comfort me. I wiped my snotty nose on the back of my sleeve.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I said.
“I…” He shook his head. “I didn’t tell you because otherwise you wouldn’t have helped me recover from the sickness.”
It was what I’d feared and more.
“But since then, I’ve fallen head over heels in love with you,” he said. “I want to spend my life with you—”
His hand touched my skin and I shoved it away. “Don’t touch me.”
He was the same callous smuggler he’d been right at the start of all this. I might have changed, but he hadn’t.
I folded my arms and turned away from him. “Take me home.”
“Alice…”
I shuffled down the hallways until I reached my dingy little room. I slammed the door behind me and burst into tears.
I was heading home.
Alone.
We descended the final few miles to Earth and came to a stop beside that road where the minivan had sailed through the barrier, over the cliff edge, and down into the deep ravine below.
Shards of rented minivan lay scattered like confetti, borded with yellow police tape around the affected area. I thought of our families, how worried they would be, how upset at losing their daughters. None of them could imagine what really happened.
What would I tell them? And how would I say it?
I had no idea. I needed time to think.
If I couldn’t find my friends, could they instead find their own way back how I had? Maybe they were already back? Maybe I was the slowpoke to the party—as usual. They were much stronger and more driven than me.
At least, they used to be. I no longer felt like the same person who careened over that cliff to her doom.
If I could make it back, I was certain they could.
I was a bundle of nerves as I descended the ramp. I hesitated before I stepped on the black tarmac. A tingle slithered up my leg. It felt strange to be setting foot on another alien world. Only this time, it was one that belonged to me.
A sense of calm swept over me. This must have been what it felt like for Columbus to take his first step on the new world. Or Armstrong stepping on the Moon.
I’d once thought I would ask him to join me on Earth, to spend the rest of his life with me, but my emotions were still raw. They were pulling me in a bunch of different directions. He’d lied to me, had lied about the one thing I cared about most.
My friends.
And now, thanks to him, they were out there somewhere among the stars, scattered like grains of sand. I’d seen with my own eyes there was a near-infinite number of alien worlds out there, and my friends could be on any one of them.
I knew deep down in my heart I would never see them again.
Nighteko followed me down the ramp but kept a discreet distance. I didn’t want to look at him but I couldn’t help myself. When I looked into his face, I saw his sadness. It was the same expression he’d worn whenever he spoke about his parents. Only now that expression was tied directly to me.
I tore my eyes away. They began to sting.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off at your home?” he said.
“No. I need to make a statement to the police here anyway. And I need to think about what I’m going to say.”
He nodded.
The silence stretched for too long, becoming awkward.
“Alice,” Nighteko said. “It was… great meeting you. There’s not much about being a smuggler I’m proud of, or glad that I did, but if there’s one thing I’m happy about, it’s your holding that ruler to my neck, of running into that meteor field that disabled your pod, of you coming to speak with me in that bar. I don’t regret any of it.”
My nose was blocked and my throat stung. I could barely hold back the tears.
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” he said. “If there was some way I could go back and change something, it would be wishing I put a tracking device in your friends’ pods. But I don’t regret abducting you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ll care for you always.”
I want you too.
I want you to come with me.
I hate you.
Come share your life with me on Earth.
Go away! I don’t want to see you ever again!
My emotions were all over the place. I didn’t know what I felt. I couldn’t make a coherent decision now.
I needed time.
Did the past few days mean as much to him as it did to me?
My insides ground like a cement mixer.
No. He took my friends from me. That was a red line. I could never forgive him for that. Not ever.
“Goodbye, Nighteko,” I said.
His eyes dropped and he nodded his head as if it was what he’d expected all along. He cleared his throat.
“Goodbye, Alice,” he said.
He slapped his hand on the control pad. The hatch door groaned as it wound upwards. He looked to one side, unable to meet my eye, but at the last second, he looked up.
There was a click.
His sadness, his love for me was clear as day in those gorgeous eyes of his. They would be the very last thing I would remember about him.
My lover.
My captain.
My alien gladiator.
The ship rose into the sky, turned, paused for just a moment, and then faded into the distant nothingness of the night sky.
The nocturnal creatures began to chirrup, tweet, and sing, awakening after the alien thorn had been removed from their planet.
I turned and walked down the road, heading back into town. I needed time to think and a long walk like this would certainly give me that.
“Hey! Hey! I said, do you want a lift into town?”
I was so lost in my thoughts I hadn’t noticed the little car pull up alongside me. My instinct was to turn them down, but when I allowed myself to feel the painful condition of my feet, I decided it was probably best to accept their offer. I could always find a bar to sit in if I needed more time to think.
“Yeah, thanks,” I said.
“Climb in the back,” the driver said. “There’s always room for one more.”
The back was packed—almost as bad as the front. They squeezed up and after I shut the door behind me, the others relaxed, crushing me.
“What were you doing walking by the side of the road, dude?” said one of the girls piled on the front passenger seat. She wore thick glasses that made her eyes look huge.
“My minivan broke down,” I said.
“Well, that’s sucks,” the driver said. “Do you want a toke?”
She extended a pink nail polished hand holding a spliff to me.
“No, thanks,” I said.
She took one for me and blew it out the window, which of course got blown back in the car.
“Where’s everyone else you were with?” the big-eyed girl said.
“What everyone else?” I said.
“Nobody drives a minivan by themselves.” She chuckled to herself as if it was the funniest thing in the world. Everything was hilarious with enough pot.
“They got a taxi back,” I said. “I figured I ought to head back into town to report it in case it gets stolen.”
“Now that is good thinking,” the driver said. “I hate inconsiderate drivers. They’re so goddamn… inconsiderate! Do you mind if we play some tunes?”
“Go ahead,” I said.
The driver cranked the music up so loud the cheap speakers rattled every time a base note reared its head. The others kept talking over each other. I felt relieved. I wasn’t in the mood for making conversation. I turned their voices off and looked out the window.
Should I tell them to stop? To turn around and head back? But then I’d have to answer their inevitable questions, difficult questions that would be hard to explain. I doubted they would think I was lying. With how high these guys were flying, they probably bumped into a UFO pretty often.
They wouldn’t take me seriously. Besides, who would want a stoned kid as a slave anyway?
I shut the door behind me and waved my thanks to the odd but kind group of friends who’d given me a lift. They took off toward the cheaper, seedier part of town.
It was late in the evening and I could hear the familiar thump-da-thump of multiple strands of music, the serious partiers having only just gotten started.
I climbed the steps toward the station and gripped the door’s metal handle. I saw my reflection in the glass and noticed the translator strip across my throat. I tore it off, folded it in half, and placed it in my pocket.
I met the officer on duty at the front desk. He was a short overweight man with a bad combover.
“Hi,” I said. “I’d like to report a missing person.”
“Sure, Ma’am,” the officer said, not looking up from the documents he was stapling. “Who’s missing?”
I took a deep breath. “Me.”
The interrogation room was bare with a single cheap table and bright overhead lights. I guessed they stopped using the spotlight some time ago. On the table sat the digital recorder Detective Wayans had taken from his jacket pocket. His partner, Detective Verbiage, chewed gum and had a bad lazy eye.
I’d just finished telling them my alternate story. There wasn’t much to it.
“We found the minivan a few days ago,” Detective Wayans said. “There was no sign of survivors. After that huge fall off the cliff, we didn’t think we’d see anybody turn up alive, never mind conscious and walking around.”
“Well, here I am,” I said. “I swerved to avoid that fox, broke through the barrier, down into the ravine. I managed to unclip my seatbelt and get my door open. Maybe I fell out at the last minute and avoided the worst of the fall. I don’t know.”
“Maybe,” Detective Wayans said, consulting his notes. “You were in the driver’s seat, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“So where have you been for the past few days?”
It was the most obvious question they could ask and yet, coming to a convincing answer hadn’t been easy. I thought it over and over during the walk and hitchhike to town.
It was hard enough for me to believe what had happened. These officers—who believed in facts and evidence—wouldn’t give it the time of day. Neither should they.
So, I opted for the next best thing.
“I think I must have had amnesia,” I said with a straight face. “I’m not an expert on the matter. All I know is, I can’t remember a single thing between what happened when we smashed through that barrier and when I woke up a few days later when I came across the minivan remains. It must have triggered a memory or something. I suddenly remembered who I was. Then I walked part of the way here and caught a hitchhike the rest of the way. That’s how I got here.”
The detectives shared an incredulous look. I wondered how they would look if they knew the truth.
“We combed the area very carefully, using all the latest technologies and dispatched multiple drones, but we couldn’t find a single clue as to where you might have gone,” Detective Wayans said. “How do you explain that?”
Detective Verbiage chewed his gum loudly but offered no input.
I shrugged. “It’s not my area of expertise. Maybe I slept in a cave where the drones couldn’t see. Maybe I didn’t leave any evidence behind to find. I just don’t know, Detective.”
“Trust me,” Detective Wayans said. “You have about the same level of understanding as we do at this point. Can I ask, do you remember anything about your friends during the accident? Could they have fallen out the minivan with you? Will they turn up one day with amnesia too?”
I wished they would. I felt so alone without them.
I tried to put on a brave face but my lip quivered and I lost it. I burst into tears. “I don’t know where they are.”
It was the truest word I’d said since I stepped in the station.
“All right,” Detective Wayans said, looking very uncomfortable.
To my surprise, Detective Verbiage was the one to offer a pack of tissues. He st
ill didn’t say a word and kept on chewing.
“Thanks,” I said, blowing my nose. “You haven’t heard from any of them? At all? I was hoping I wasn’t the only one to have survived.”
“No,” Detective Wayans said. “No one else. Not yet, anyway. But I wouldn’t lose hope. You came out alive, after all.”
He consulted his notes and rifled through the papers. I sensed we were coming to the end. It was no bad thing. “Was there anything wrong with the minivan that you recall? Faulty brakes? Lights?”
“No. It was working perfectly.”
Detective Wayans tucked his notebook in his pocket. “Okay. I think we’re done. We don’t have any more questions for you today. Later, if we find a lead, can we contact you to follow up with questions?”
“Sure,” I said.
“We have your name, contact details, and address?”
“I gave them to the officer on duty at the front desk.”
“Good,” Detective Wayans said. “Listen, I don’t want you to lose hope. There’s always a chance one of your friends survived this crash alongside you. We didn’t expect you to turn up, so there’s no reason why they couldn’t either.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“We’re going to arrange for a doctor to check you over, make sure you’re healthy enough to return home. If you are, is there anyone you would like us to call? A parent, maybe?”
“You could call my aunt,” I said. I gave them her number.
“Just sit tight. We’ll take things from here.”
The officers turned to leave.
“Wait,” I said. “I could use a cup of coffee. Some food, if you have any.”
“Of course. I’ll send in an officer right away.”
The officers left, leaving me alone in that sterile room. I glanced at the walls with my peripheral vision and wondered which one was fake. It was hard to tell.
I imagined them looking in at me now, asking each other what they thought. Would one notice something was up with my story? Amnesia had to be the most common excuse in the book. Would they have me followed? Why would they? It wasn’t like I had anything to gain by losing my friends.