“Shut up!” Donna said. “We’re wasting energy shouting!”
The poster board plummeted from my fingers. I grabbed the cane and left my tent, hobbling toward the closed door to our domed corridor. I gritted my teeth against the pain in my leg. My head swam with lightheadedness, and I readied myself for the stench of outside.
It greeted me like a stack of overdue bills on a day assumed to be payday. I wanted to toss it away, and hold a gleaming scrap of paper in my hands—my check, the sky. I needed to see the sky, even when it was clouded with the remnants of dust and destruction. I needed to watch the fog curl above the dome, and catch glimmers of the moon between cloud patches.
The fog had been stolen from us, along with the moon, the sun, the concrete, the cloud patches, and our ability to survive. Everything. Only the stench remained. I breathed through my mouth as I shoved the door open, storming breathless into the darkened dome. My eyes targeted the sky. Nighttime. Clouds heavy with the promise of rain. The door thudded behind me, the shouts dulling into an angry murmur that reminded me of the hydrangea-crazed bees outside my mom’s porch.
The bees buzzed in my memory, threatening to show me the paramedics frantically letting the screen door crash behind them one more time. I stared into the clouds above my head, willing them to open up on me, break through the dome, shatter it into a zillion pieces, wipe out the stench, dissolve the aliens’ goop, the murmuring shouts from inside, and the guilt eating away at me.
I couldn’t hold off sleeping any longer. I needed to not be scared of my dreams. I needed my dreams. Needed my sky. And Kisana.
Another tear trembled on the edge of my eyelid, and when I lifted my hand to swipe it away, a shimmer of blue walked into my line of sight.
The doors slammed shut again as the alien stopped a good three feet away from me, the edges of its hologram pulsing dully in the light of dusk clouded over. Voices continued to buzz from inside the gym.
“No one noticed you come out here?” I asked.
“No. They did not not-ice you either, I see.”
My initial question seemed irrelevant. “We’re…dying. I’m sure you know that.”
“Yes. I know. The council members have vo-ted to leave this planet.”
“Leave? Leave us…in this state? Without freeing us?”
“That was the original ass-umption, yes.” Its head cocked to one side unnaturally. The gesture appeared to be one of curiosity.
A billion questions raced through my mind. “Is the air out there really poisonous?” I gave the clouds a nod and ran my fingers across the cool metal of David’s watch, pleading for it to somehow grant me strength.
“No. We came to survey many things about your spe-cies. The abili-ty to judge between truth and falsity was one of them.”
“We judge from the evidence in front of us,” I said. “We saw the streets empty and the buildings crumbled. We had no choice but to believe you. What other way is there?”
“Many. Our species judges most things cognit-ively, you see. We can read minor differences in temperature and the rate of organ pro-cesses. It is then a simple decision.”
“This isn’t your true form. How could we judge things like your breathing rate unless we see your true form? You used a box to speak to us.”
“Yes. For our species, visibility is not nec-essary. We simply sense life forms around us within a certain distance, once we are familiar with their gen-etic markings.”
“We…Yeah. Can’t do that. Am I correct in saying you came here to laugh at our stupidity, then?” A fire ignited inside my mind. I had an instinct to charge the alien, knock it down, pound its chest—whatever the hell it looked like—for what it’d done to David, for what it’d done to us. It would do no good, though. Information was my only possible weapon.
The holographic head cocked in the other direction. “No. We came to study your spec-ies. Our staff members were amused by many of the behavioral patterns, yes. When our research is announced upon returning, much of our popu-lace will also be amused. Amusement is not, how-ever, our goal.”
“What is your goal? Will you return in twenty years to destroy every human being, harvest them for food? Deplete the ozone layer for valuable resources?”
“No and no. Our goal is merely to learn everything we can about the universe around us. We are an advanced species. Our brains work mech-anically, and we study with an insatiable sense of curiosity. But we do not wish to be violent unless it is scientif-ically necessary.”
The clouds broke free then. Huge droplets of water crashed down onto the dome, splattering, trickling down the slopped sides. A water line squiggled downward, searching for the warm concrete. “You killed half the city for curiosity’s sake?”
“No. Less than half. We needed to see how your bodies and minds would function under dire circum-stances. We chose other cities as well. All major cities, as to create a sense of stasis among your planet’s citizens.”
“Stasis? You call causing an entire planet to hide in terror stasis?” My voice started to break apart, but I forced myself to keep speaking. “Starving them? Chucking bombs into their prisons?”
“Yes. It takes dire circumstances to bring out the core of a spe-cies.”
The water droplet trail disappeared as another fat splatter took its place. I kept my eyes glued to the dome and the water droplets instead of facing the creature at my side. “Desperation…”
“That is one word for the state of mind, yes.”
“Where are you from?” The words came out as low as a whisper.
“A planet ex-ceedingly far from yours. You do not, nor will have, the technology to reach our galax-y in the near future.”
“You knew what I was getting at, didn’t you? You understand humanity’s need to fight back, to not give in to desperation. You knew we’d think about attacking your world, as you attacked ours. Revenge.”
“Yes, I under-stand more about your species now. That is why I am here.”
My eyes met the alien’s hologram again. “And why is that?”
“As I said, we have decided to leave your planet. We have collected an acceptable a-mount of data. The other council members thought it would be cle-ver to free all of Earth’s inhabitants except for my station’s.”
“You mean us.”
The being’s beady eyes stared into mine. “Yes. I made a mistake. I came too close.”
“What? What do you mean?”
The alien cocked its head to the other direction again. This time the gesture was laced with hesitation. “How do I explain…? Our species, as I said, senses the inner workings of other beings. We are able to read conscious thoughts and sense bod-i-ly functions. We are not, how-ever, able to read any part of the unconscious mind unless we register our physical cells within ano-ther.”
“You…lost me.”
“Touch. Touch is the purest form of intimacy for us, and upon physical contact we are able to share the unconscious.”
“Dreams.”
“Yes.”
“When I collided into you that first time you showed us your hologram, you gained the ability to share information through my dreams.”
“Yes.”
I nodded slowly, my gaze averting back to the water-covered dome.
“I didn’t notice what had happened until much later,” it said. “I was hoping the hologram would block it. We are not able to control the content of these thought patterns, you see.”
“Thus the need for intimacy.”
“Yes. Our bonding mates and parents are the only ones we normally touch. Sometimes close companions. Thus the need for our mech-anical apparatu-ses to aid us.”
“Does this mean you saw my dreams as well?” The bee bushes popped into my head again. The sunny fruit bowl. The walls with flecking paint. Me and my dad romping in his truck.
“Yes. I saw how much grief has aff-ected your life.”
“Then why add more to it? Why kill David? You must have known we were close.”
The alien hesitated. “I was ordered to. I didn’t see your strength until that moment. I didn’t re-think our research until you took actions against your own friend that you knew may get you killed. In your moment of des-peration, I threatened to harm another human, and you acted out. You longed to pro-tect the entire station.”
I shuffled the weight of my leg underneath the cane. The pain worsened the longer I stood. I wasn’t sure how to respond.
“I am going a-gainst the council,” it said. “The other members of the council wished to observe the last minute effects of your dreams as you per-ish. I cannot do that to you.” The hologram shimmered with a brighter light than it emitted before, its hand pulsating with a murmur of blue. Within the blue pulsations, a few clicks echoed.
“Because I attacked him?” I asked. “Your goddamn power made him become desperate in the first place.” My voice croaked.
“I know. The things you blame yourself for are not your fault.”
The words exploded above me like the first rays of sunshine after a wintry dawn. I’d heard them before, but hearing them from this being who scared every bit of me, yet had shared my thoughts, my dreams—somehow encouraged them to finally sink in.
Chapter 25
The dome around us started to whirr. Edges that met the concrete began to emit a glow similar to the alien’s hologram. The light was reminiscent of daylight and shone with an edge of silver that was too bright to face directly. Crisscrosses of blue intertwined the silver field. The glow traveled up the slope of the dome, and behind it, the rain trickled through. Every trace of the dome was being materialized within the daylight-hued field.
I squinted against the light as it rose above my head. The cool, moist air billowed in, caressing my skin. Goosebumps rose on my forearms, and my skin delighted in the sensation. A strand of fog swept in front of my eyes, and I grabbed it with my free hand, smiling as it whispered against my knuckles and swirled into a smoky gauze. This is what I’d needed.
“I know,” the alien said. “Your species has odd attach-ments to minor environmental details. Strangely sent-imental. Emotionally complex.”
“Complex. Perfect word.” I raised my eyes to follow the glow again as it steadily swallowed up every inch of the dome. When it reached the top, the edges crept inward, forming a compact disc that reminded me of a Frisbee. The disc solidified, and the alien’s hologram glowed again.
“Come. Touch the rain you long for.”
I hobbled out into the storm that was just finding its wings. Huge droplets slid into my hair, against my dirty T-shirt, and quenched my thirsty skin. I did more than touch it—I tasted it. I opened my mouth wide, smiling as the drops filled my parched mouth. I’d never tasted anything so wonderful.
When my eyes opened again, the silver disc had swallowed up the entire dome, and was now sinking down to the concrete. It was centered above the dirt patch and our makeshift grave for David. After it touched the ground, it spread outward and thinned to cover the whole area we’d used for waste burial. When it reached the end of our dirt pile, it flattened to the pavement, the bright glow dulling until it hardened into a white layer.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“Smell the air.”
The awful stench was gone. The glowing material had encased any and all traces of it. All I could smell was the fog and rain around me. I grinned up into the storm as it continued splattering my forehead. “That stuff’s awesome.”
“Yes. It has ma-ny uses. Also, this—”
A blob of silver traveled up from the center of the pavement, where the dirt patch had once been. It landed in front of us, dulling into a hardened ball of white goop.
“Your friend’s ashes,” the alien said. “They are en-cased within. You may have a hard time breaking the seal, however, so I suggest you do not.”
“T-Thank you,” I stammered, picking up the orb. It was warm. I stared at it.
The hologram shimmered and expanded one arm to encompass a blue-lit object that resembled a penlight. It reminded me of one of the tools on the silver apparatus that controlled our supply hatch. The alien aimed it toward my leg, the blue tip pulsating. “Place your wound clo-ser,” it said. “I can assist you one more way.”
I inched toward the light as my heart beat heavy within my chest. My mind drifted back to the memory of this same appendage shooting David to his sudden, dusty death. I took a deep breath, and then set down David’s ashes again. If my death was to come at this moment, at least I had the rain pelting me from above and the wind touching my skin.
Searing pain burned through my thigh, straight into the heart of the muscle. I clenched my eyes shut and teeth together, groaning. I was on the verge of collapsing. Just when I was sure I couldn’t handle the waves of pain any longer, the pain vanished into the storm.
My leg tingled. I opened my eyes gingerly. The alien’s light tool had disappeared, along with all traces of pain and the tightness and heat of infection. I flexed my leg, grinning.
“Wow. That’s some…stuff. Can you heal Marge?”
“No. We can only use this to mend the outer layers of skin and muscle. She will reco-ver. I’ve observed her organ processes.”
“Good. Thank you.” I tossed my dad’s cane into the darkness. Won’t be needing that anymore. My gaze settled on the pavement’s newly-formed puddles as another question popped into my head. “Why did you give us special treatment from the beginning? The stuff you brought us, the personal favors? If desperation was your goal, wouldn’t you have achieved it quicker without all that?”
“The stations were mon-itored in different ways, allowing various levels of food, water, and supplies. It was the best way to organ-ize our research.”
“If you saw my dreams…that means I saw yours. You regretted watching those other stations suffer?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you refuse those orders, as well?”
“Our species is capable of sharing our un-conscious mind with others. That does not always mean we are able to share it with ourselves as rap-idly as we sometimes hope.”
Hope. I haven’t heard that word for some time. The clouds above us furrowed deep into the sky and pulled out a crack of thunder that echoed against the outer walls of the gym. The sound caused the murmurs from inside to stop. The doors opened a moment after.
Matt’s head appeared in the doorway. “Sam, why are you out here, and what the fuck was that noi—Oh, holy shit!” His face lit up. “Everyone! Come outside! It’s really outside! We’re fucking free!”
The alien glowed once again, and the outdoor cafeteria lights powered on, illuminating the waves of the storm and the gorgeous fog wisps. A grin stretched across my face as everyone sprinted out into the storm. Whatever energy they’d been saving, they spent it all now—dancing, laughing, and running in circles with arms outspread. Mouths opened wide to taste the rain. Dust and grime ran off and away from us.
Matt ran back inside and returned with Marge. He helped support her as she slowly made her way to the doorway. In Matt’s other hand, he held a fabric chair. He set it down in the door’s threshold, and she sat in it, gasping for breath. She was guarded from the storm, but close enough to smell the moist air and smile along with us. Simon appeared at her feet, lapping up water from a puddle.
Kisana, Naomi, and Donna danced in circles with Julie and Charles. All five of them splashed in the puddles and eagerly tasted the rain. Han and his parents started singing. Kisana’s parents prayed as the rain fell on them, Pablo’s rosary glinting in the watery light.
“So everyone will be free now?” I asked.
The alien was still at my side, head cocked in curiosity as he watched everyone play. “Emotionally com-plex…indeed.” It turned back to me. “I will let all encasements subside. They will join you short-ly.” The hologram shimmered blue again, clicking. “I have released the medical and police officials first. Your communicators should work now, as well as electrical towers. I waited to release yo
u until the council realigned the planet’s satel-lites.”
“Matt!” I shouted. “Where’s the nearest hospital?”
He held his arms to the sky as thunder cracked again. “Close to here, I think.”
“Run there. Go. Find it. Send an ambulance. Get help for Marge, and tell them our phone lines and power should be working now.”
He obliged, tearing down the debris-covered street with a lantern in hand. Most of the buildings around us lay in ruins. Toppled skyscrapers, huge chunks of plaster, wood, and support beams covered the street that flashed with every arc of lightning.
“Another group has been released,” the alien said, pointing down an alleyway chocked full of broken lumber.
Shouts and whoops echoed from between the chunks of wood. Naomi and Donna rushed over with lanterns in hand, shouting to them. Everyone around us followed except for the alien and me. Joel stayed behind, giving Marge a cup of collected rain to drink. The happy shouts joined with the noisy raindrops, creating a symphony. Simon darted out into the storm and hid under my old lunch table, finding a quieter puddle to drink from.
The smile returned to my lips, and I found myself looking quizzically at the alien. “Your English is better,” I said. “Used to be pretty choppy.”
“Yes. I finally have a so-lid grasp on the language.”
“What’s…your species called? Mind if I ask?”
“Roughly transla-ted, we are known as nevrie.”
“Do you have a name?”
“Ian.”
I laughed. “Ian? All this time we’ve been calling you things like ‘monstrous voice’, ‘alien spokesperson’, ‘ugly holographic dude,’ and your name’s Ian?”
“Yes. Short for Ianyolianim.” Another blue light blinked from within the hologram, and the creature paused, as if interpreting a message. “I must…leave. The council is readying to de-part.”
Captive by the Fog Page 20