by S E Anderson
Without another word from her, we were ushered into a massive cafeteria with over a hundred people eating off plastic trays. It would have brought me back to my high school days, if it wasn’t for the uniforms.
The sight chilled me. Even wearing the uncomfortable clothes, such as they were, it looked exactly like the library at the heart of the universe, the prison trap Nimien had prepared for us.
And this was supposed to be good for my mental health.
“Everyone, listen up!” the white coat who accompanied us called. “Please give a warm welcome to Zander, Blayde, and Sally. I expect each and every one of you to do your part in helping them feel included and safe here. Understood?”
I glanced over at Zander, who, surprisingly, looked rather cheerful, much like his sister. Both waved kindly at the people eating their dinners, like they were the new kids in school.
We lined up to get our food: some overly vibrant mac and cheese, green lettuce, mystery meat, Jell-O, and a glass of water. It was as if Nimien had tried to design my high school but ran out of funding.
Maybe he was involved in this too. I shuddered. I thought all the strings of his time loop had been accounted for. Had he messed around with my future as well as my past?
We were ushered to the few empty seats at the end of a table where most of the people had almost finished with their meals. We tucked right into our food, not having had anything to eat since breakfast. Hospital food still beat jail food.
“Sally, please inform me,” said Blayde between chews. “Is this beef or pork? I don’t know your world well enough. At first, I was pretty sure it was pork, but now … now, I just think it’s really salty beef.”
“I like to whisper too!” My neighbor leaned in close. “Whispering is fun!”
I blinked into my food. How had I forgotten the biggest aspect of being locked up was the other people? I had spent so much time trying to think my way out of here that I hadn’t planned what I would actually do when I got here.
“What are you three in for?” she asked mysteriously. She brushed her Rapunzel-length black hair behind her ear, grinning.
“That’s not polite,” her neighbor muttered, eyes on his plate. The young girl kept watching us, expectantly.
“Fine, I’ll go first!” She grinned. “I robbed a bank.”
“Oh, you did, dear?” said Blayde. She pushed her radioactive pasta around with her fork.
“Don’t look like a bank robber, do I?” she asked. “I thought not. But Jeffrey said it had to be done for the good of mankind. So, I walked into the closest bank, waving daddy’s rifle, took all the money in the vault, and left.”
“And she set the place on fire.”
“Shut up, Peter,” she said to the young man beside her. “They caught me right after, and I ended up here. So, now, it’s your turn.” She picked up her cup of water, drinking a long gulp while keeping her unblinking eyes riveted on the three of us.
“We killed a man,” Blayde said with a shrug. “He was an alien; he deserved it.”
“Oh. Why?”
“He killed four women. Not counting Sally here,” she replied. “You know, everyday saving-the-Earth kind of deal. You can thank me later.”
“Well, welcome to the Hill,” she said, getting up and reaching her arm over the table to shake our hands. “I’m Daisy-May Grant. You?”
“Zander, immortal time traveler from another planet.” He smiled. “But don’t ask me which one.”
“I’m Blayde, immortal time traveler, probably from the same planet he’s from.” His sister shook the hand extended to her with little to no enthusiasm.
“Sally Webber, also immortal time traveler, but from Earth.”
“Cool,” Daisy-May said with a grin. “Are you crazy or is it them?”
“Excuse me?”
“Are you three insane or do they just think you are?”
“We’re as sane as they come,” Zander replied with a shake of the head. “Without going into compartmentalized trauma.”
“Then I’m not the only one. They say Jeffrey is a figment of my imagination, but how can he be? He still cares about me. He still visits me, you know, even when I’m in this place.”
“How nice of him,” I said. This was getting uncomfortable.
“He doesn’t really visit,” said the boy. “He’s dead.”
“He’s not. He’ll be here tomorrow,” she said. “Peter here is a pyromaniac. He’s not like us.”
“How come?” I asked.
She leaned in close, as if she were about to reveal a big, important secret. Her words tickled my ear. “Because he actually is sick. And he knows it. But he’s doing amazing.”
He seemed like he was only in his mid-teens, the look on his face so young and confused that it made it impossible to guess his age, even though I knew for a fact that this institute was only for legal adults.
“So,” I started, wetting my now-dry lips, “what’s this place like? The people nice?”
“Oh, it’s a real drag,” Daisy-May said simply. “Sure, the staff is nice, and the doctors are fine. But the food is rather bland and repetitive. There are a few people here who just can’t survive without routine. So, every day of the week is assigned a meal, and it’s been like that since I got here.”
“How long you been here?”
“About three years, I think.” She shrugged. “Give or take. Anyway, it’s a bit boring at times. And I do miss Instagram.”
“So, I take it you use … Imperial units here, then?” asked Blayde.
“And the movies weren’t kidding about the screams,” she said, ignoring her. “You get used to them, but it’s hard at first to get used to sleeping through the night when people around you have nightmares. Anyway, free period until 8. Bring your trays. Come on!”
I floated through the cafeteria, dropping off my tray with an employee who checked that I had returned all my silverware, the little of it I was given. Then through the rec room, where Daisy-May flung herself at a table, ushering us to join her.
“Is this all you get to do?” Blayde asked. “Draw with crayons?”
“Don’t worry, it grows on you. They even have a small library, but you have to ask your doctor first before you check out a book. And there are some games too. Cartoons are on sometimes. And we have movie nights.”
“Cool,” Zander said, still keeping his grin on. It was hard at this point to distinguish if it was real or fake. “Crayons. Haven’t used a crayon in years. So, we just hang out here for another hour?”
“Seems that way.” I bit my lip. “This is going to be—”
“Fantastic!” Zander interrupted. “No obligations, no Alliance, and we just get to draw and hang out with colorful characters all day.”
“They’re criminals,” I said. “Actual murderers.”
“So are we,” he replied. “And you were fine with that.”
“You’re not murderers. You’re heroes,” I said. “Remind me how many worlds you’d saved even before I came along.”
“Speaking of, we have to figure out our plan, now that we’re here,” he said, before turning to Daisy-May. “There’s more than one doctor in the institute, correct?”
“Yeah!” said Daisy-May. “There’s Dr. Smith, and Dr. Shelly, but he thinks his last name is too formal. So, we all call him Drew or Doc Drew. And then, of course, there’s Dr. Winfrey. He’s an old dear.” She paused, looking over her friend’s shoulder to check his artwork.
Blayde scrunched up her paper, scowling. “I’m out of practice. Sorry. Wait, why am I sorry? I’m trapped with limited mediums for artistic expression. Someone should be apologizing to me.”
“A lot of people here deserve some apologies,” Daisy-May said sternly.
I looked down at my half-assed drawing of Galli. Every minute spent in this institution could have been better spent out there, doing. Being. I had to keep reminding myself what I was doing this for, who I was doing this for. If I wanted the Agency to keep their hands off m
y parents, I would have to behave.
I picked up the brown crayon and scribbled on.
CHAPTER FOUR
It’s not awkward until you start questioning the pants
Here’s a fun activity for the whole family: Try your hand at sleep deprivation! There’s no more entertaining way to make sure you’re not kidnapped in your sleep by your extraterrestrial nemesis. Of course, you’re only imagining the rest of your family are with you, due to the fact that you are indeed sleep deprived. My eyes were propped open all night in case Foollegg was waiting for a split second of inattention to snatch me up then tell my parents I was unruly and not available for visits for the next few years until a terrible accident nixes that.
It was a little impressive that I hadn’t been assigned a roommate, not that this cell—for lack of a better word—even had the space for one. What a luxury to have privacy, even if it meant I could get old-school abducted by aliens with no one here to be a witness. Not that anyone would have listened to these witnesses, seeing as how me screaming about aliens was how I got locked up in the first place.
Thankfully, I had the wind to keep me awake. Branches whipped and scratched against my small window. A haunting, bone-chilling noise that echoed in my empty room. And my stiff sheets were too starched to let me get comfortable. It felt like crumpling paper when I moved.
Even so, staying awake without Netflix to binge is harder than you might imagine. I made do with trying to remember the entire dialogue of Avatar, since it was the longest movie I could think of, and spent the first hour just trying to recall the character names. After a few hours of staring blankly at my door chanting in Navi, a new sound threw itself into the mix: a scream.
I flew to my feet, rushing for the door and pushing the sliding shade away with my sweaty fingers. Two nurses walked down the hallway in quiet tandem. Quick response time, I’d give them that, though their sense of urgency was sorely lacking.
“Hey,” I called out. A nurse stopped and turned to face me, seemingly surprised that I was up. “What’s happening?”
“Just a nightmare,” she said soothingly. “Most of our patients will have a rough night every once and a while.”
Without saying anything more, she continued her slow walk down the corridor toward the screams.
This wasn’t right. A person didn’t scream that loudly for nothing, not this long or this strongly after just a simple nightmare. The stereotype of screaming mental health patients was just that: a stereotype. Amazingly, the screams subsided quickly, which was a relief, though it was worrying that the sound hadn’t awoken anyone else. Daisy-May hadn’t been kidding.
I shuddered, closing the latch and returning to bed. I wasn’t going to be sleeping anymore after this, that was for sure.
That scream. Blood-curdling didn’t even begin to cover it.
The sound of metal sliding across metal made me jump. So, this was it; the Agency was here. I grabbed for the lamp on the nightstand, only for my hand to slip right off. It was bolted down to the table, which, in turn, was bolted to the floor. I would have to do without a weapon then. Unless the Alliance operatives were somehow allergic to pillows.
In the darkness of my room, I could still make out the source of the noise: the slot in my door had been opened, revealing the fluorescent lighting of the hallway beyond. Were the agents waiting out there, ready to cart me off my homeworld? I braced myself for a fight.
“Hey there!”
I spun on my heels, unleashing the punch I had been winding up. My fist collided with a wall of muscle.
“Ouch! What was that for?” Zander rubbed his sternum as if I’d actually hurt him. He brandished one of his trademark grins.
“Knock it off. It’s just me!” he said. “Though I’m sure if Foollegg was here, she would be quite peeved right now.”
“Thanks, I guess?” Relief washed over me in a torrent.
Zander was here.
I hadn’t been alone with him since our minute on the beach, before Foollegg had unleashed the whole fury of the Agency down on us, sending an entire squadron of American cops to bring us in. That had sure killed the mood.
And here he was, tall and beautiful in the moonlight, his sharp cheekbones raised in the dim, a perfect chiaroscuro. Despite the straight cut of his institution clothes, he still looked remarkably handsome, as if someone had tried to drape sheets over a Greek statue.
His smile wasn’t the only thing he’d brought to my room. His faded yellow blanket was slung over his shoulder, a silver thermos grasped tightly between his fingers.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you.”
“I came to see you, silly,” he said, inching toward me, though he had run out of hands to reach for me. “I felt bad that we didn’t get that date, and I don’t want to wait until we’re out of here to make my grand romantic gesture. So, I hope you’re all right with a medium-sized one.”
I melted, my chest filling with warmth, a human jelly donut. I reached for his face, running my hands over his jawline, and he closed his eyes, leaning in. He smelled like minty toothpaste, clean and fresh in the sterile hospital.
“You think I’m that easy?” I chided. “I don’t just let anyone in my room. You didn’t even knock.”
He laughed, kissing my palm. “Even I can’t make a room like this romantic. My charms don’t reach that far. I have my limits. Come on, we’re going out.”
My heart fluttered, but the sound of the branches pommeling my window kept me sadly grounded.
He noticed me staring. “Rain won’t hit for another hour at least. Coming?”
“Wait, I have nothing to wear!” I laughed. “Of course I’m coming. Let me grab my blanket.”
I grabbed the comforter, slinging it over my shoulders and following him to the window. I braced my hand on his bicep, and we jumped lightly to the cold grass outside, the wind blowing against us like we were reeds bending to its mercy.
I found myself laughing. The powerful wind threatened to knock us over, but it gave me an excuse to clutch onto Zander even tighter. And, suddenly, we were on the roof, the wind whipping around our frail bodies, the sky and ground blending into the velvety black dome of night. We could have been anywhere, everywhere, my only tether to reality being the warmth of Zander’s body and the sturdiness of the stonework under my feet.
“You really meant that we were going out,” I said, reveling in the wild wind. “As in, outside out!”
“It gets better,” he said, though his voice was faint, miles away despite being only inches apart. “Did you see the bell tower on the way in?”
I could barely see anything now, not even the roof in front of me. The clouds were coming in, dimming the faint moonlight we had. But one jump later, and we had pillars around us and what might have been a roof over our head.
Zander took his comforter from his shoulders in one swift move, throwing it down on the edge of the old bell tower. We sat together on the papery warmth of the blanket, wrapping the other one over our heads and shoulders, letting our legs dangle over the ledge.
Nothing below but darkness, nothing ahead but the storm, and nothing between me and Zander but scrubs. I soaked up his warmth knowing I didn’t have to share with anyone else.
“Not as impressive as a pyramid,” he said, “but I figure you’re tired of over-the-top.”
“You figured right,” I replied, relaxing into him for the first time in days. Oh, how I missed this. “And it was never about the pyramid. I had such a mad crush on you I could barely pay attention to the ground beneath my feet.”
“So, no crush this time around?”
“No,” I said, shaking his head against his torso, breathing him in. “Whatever this is now is far bigger than a crush.”
I tilted my head upward and found his lips waiting for mine and took all that I could get, embracing even the brush of his nose against my cheek. Our hands were too busy keeping our comforter from turning into a sail to have tim
e for anything else.
“Tea?” he asked, when we broke for air. Though now that neither of us actually needed to breathe to stay alive, I’m sure we could have spent the next hour lip-locked.
“You brought tea?”
He unscrewed the top of his thermos and handed it to me. It wasn’t anything fancy or flavored, but it was tea, and I guzzled it down.
“Where on earth did you find this?” I asked, stopping myself before I finished the whole thing.
“Nicked it from the kitchen.” His words tickled my hair. “They left it open. I didn’t think they’d miss warm water and a tea bag anytime soon. I’ll have the thermos washed and back in place before the staff arrives in the morning.”
“It’s perfect,” I said, handing it back. “Thank you.”
“I was meaning to take you out to dinner and a show. I hope this counts. For two people with all the time in the universe, we haven’t had any time for each other.”
“The universe is a big baby.”
His eyes turned to the horizon, and with barely a second delay, his face turned to wonder and awe, a grin of satisfaction replacing the frown as he pulled me tighter. I let the warmth seep deeper into me.
“I’m really, really sorry, Sally,” Zander apologized, not for the first time since we were arrested.
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for. It was the only way forward.”
“Of course, I do. If I hadn’t insisted that we solve the case for Felling or if I’d gone to the Agency without you …”
“Can it with the what-ifs. It’s done.”
“But all this is because of me.”
“You can’t take all the credit,” I replied. “Do you think I’ve paid the universe back enough yet for running you over?”
“Years ago.” He held me tighter. “When this is all over, we’ll find a resort planet and go on an actual date.”