Chapter 5
The next morning, Sam watched Nat move stiffly through the cafeteria to get breakfast. Nat’s roommate carried her tray for her, as one of Nat’s hands was still bandaged. The doctor at the hospital, acutely uncomfortable with Greg and Downy, had talked to Sam instead. The burns were minor, the doctor confirmed, except for one on her leg, and one on her left hand. Fortunately, the attackers didn’t know enough or possibly care enough to make a serious Molotov cocktail. Unfortunately Nat was left-handed.
Sam held the doors for Nat as they went back to the dorm. Greg wanted them both in his office. He’d taken over the Resident Director’s apartment on the bottom floor of the dorm. This morning Greg gestured them into his living room, and let them sit on the couch. Sam hadn’t been in here since they moved in. Greg had decorated the walls with Spo melt glass, Rembrandt reprints, and empty picture frames. He’d used duct tape on the pictures.
“I’ve got an idea for a press event,” Sam said, ignoring the empty picture frames. That conversation could take hours. “These attacks – the Molotov cocktail, the tower graffiti – they may not be related. Or they might be. Either way, these people view us as political targets. They think hurting us will hurt the Spo. I want to show them how human we are.”
“How?” Greg asked.
“I want us to go to a mall, somewhere popular, famous – maybe Hollywood Square. We do some press stuff, and then we just hang out. Let the reporters get personal interviews, let them film us eating burgers and buying T-shirts.”
Greg nodded, thoughtful. “I’ll arrange something. It’s such a human idea – shopping to avoid violence.”
Sam looked at Nat’s bandaged hand. “It couldn’t hurt, right?”
“No. It is a good idea.”
Greg paused for a moment. “However, Nat, I have something else to tell you. I learned that your family is back in Los Angeles. I thought you might want to see them.”
Nat looked blank. “My family? You told me they live in Tokyo now. Plus, no family visits yet.”
“They’re here to get a lung transplant for your sister. The operation is tomorrow, so I’ve arranged for you to visit them tonight.”
Sam had only twice seen Nat cry, and he didn’t see it now. Her face tightened up, but she forced it to relax.
“Tonight? I guess… Yes. Okay. Are you going to take me?”
“I doubt they want to see me,” Greg said, with a touch of humor. “Sam will go with you, and Leo and Mike, for security.”
“I don’t want Sam to come – ”
“No arguments,” Greg said. “Take it or leave it.”
Nat shrugged with stiff shoulders. “Alright then.”
Sam and Leo leaned against a wall in the waiting room, next to a coke machine, watching Nat pace. Sam didn’t blame Nat for not wanting him here. The cadets had all talked so much about seeing their families again, the first few years on Spo. Then, slowly, talk of home stopped. After a certain point, they all felt so removed from their past, nobody wanted to imagine seeing their parents.
Now the situation was thrust on Nat, ready or not, along with the fact that her sister was getting a dangerous operation.
Nat’s breath came unevenly and she kept shaking her hands, like her fingers were falling asleep. When she tried to sign the visitor book at the front desk her bandaged hand shook so badly her name was illegible.
“It smells like Spo in here,” Nat said, continuing to pace. “Did you notice that?”
“All the cleaning fluids,” Sam said.
“Akemi has cystic fibrosis. I thought… I thought she might already be dead.” Nat slowed her pacing. “I didn’t want to ask. She’s four years younger than me. The Spo wanted her for the exchange program – she was the one they came for. They didn’t know about her disease. When they saw her, they changed their minds.”
Sam knew some of this. Greg explained it to him one time. Nat was a few years older than the rest of the cadets, because they’d originally picked her sister. The way Greg told it, Nat demanded that they leave her sister alone. She volunteered to go in her place.
The door of the waiting room opened and a small Japanese man entered. He wore perfectly round glasses and a grey dress shirt buttoned to the top. For a moment Nat just stared at him.
“Suki?” he asked.
Sam had never heard that nickname. Her full name was Natsuki, but she’d always been Nat to them.
“Yes, yes it is me… Father?” Nat bowed slightly, with a jerk.
“We never thought to see you now,” Nat’s father said. “We just told Akemi. She is very excited, we may need to sedate her.” He stepped forward to hug Nat, and traced the tattoo on her cheek with his eyes. Nat stepped away from him.
“I don’t want to make her worse. Greg told me I could come, but maybe I should go.”
“I did not mean that. Her joy will do her good. Come in.” He flicked a look at Sam and then Leo, who followed silently.
“I’ll wait outside,” Leo said, at Akemi’s door. Sam wasn’t sure what to do, but Nat met his eyes.
“You can come in,” she said.
The hospital bed looked too big for the little girl in it. Nat told him her sister was sixteen, but she looked ten. Her black eyes were heavy, and she reached up with a weak hand to pull the oxygen line from her nose. An older Japanese lady sat on the other side of the bed, holding her hand.
“Suki?” Akemi said, her voice a whisper. “I can’t believe it’s you. You’re back.”
Nat approached the bed, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. She made a choking noise, and pressed her hand over her mouth.
“Are you alright?” Akemi asked, looking at the bandage covering her burned hand.
“Am I alright?” Nat gasped finally. “I’m fine! How are you? I didn’t think I would ever... I’m so happy to see you!"
Nat leaned forward to give her a gentle hug.
“Hello Mom,” Nat said, reaching out to grasp her mother’s hand.
“We are glad you are safe home,” Nat’s mom said. Her eyes were bloodshot. Nat nodded, and Sam could see her breathe deeply as she focused.
“Look at you,” Nat said to Akemi, “I can’t believe how big you are. How tall are you anyway?”
“Nearly 5’4”, who’d have thought it? How long can you stay?” Akemi said.
“Greg said I can stay until your surgery is...until there is news.”
“And after?”
“I have to go back to Pepperdine, the alien academy, you know. But maybe... I’m sure they’ll let me see you at least once more before you go back to Japan. Let’s not talk about that. Tell me about you.”
Akemi made a crooked, smirky smile. “I’m gonna get my ears pierced next month. I’m a pretty good animae artist, and I have 2,000 followers on my blog. Those are the highlights.”
Nat laughed. “That sounds just like you. I remember you using up my pastels, coloring the wall next to your mat.”
“What about you?” Akemi asked, her eyes flashed to Sam for a moment.
“Umm."
Sam wondered what she would say. I caught a Molotov cocktail yesterday? Somebody slaughtered a sheep and smeared a hate message in it?
“Let’s see. Highlights,” Nat said. “I’m the best translator in my squad, in the whole group, actually. My mentor is a weird alien named Greg who likes oil paintings. My friend Sam says – Oh, this is Sam.” Nat gestured at him.
Sam smiled at Akemi, but didn’t approach the bed. “Nice to meet you.”
“You look super-hot on TV,” Akemi said. “Just fyi. And you’re actually as tall as you look.”
Sam laughed and Nat smacked Akemi’s hand.
“Straight to business, huh? I missed you little girl.”
Akemi grinned. “Hey, six years on an alien planet – better have been some hot guys.”
Their mother snorted. “I cannot believe you speak that way.”
“You always were a flirt,” Nat said to Akemi. “That obviously
hasn’t changed.”
“So...can I ask why you’re not green?” Akemi asked tentatively.
“Oh!’ Nat stretched out her bare arm. Her skin was pale and clear, but she’d heard the news report about their strange color. “The spooks have food we can eat. But it wasn’t right, made some of us feel off. A few of us asked to grow Earth food. Tending the garden was up to us, so most of the cadets didn’t bother, but a few of us did.”
“Had to grow your own food…” Akemi trailed off, her nose flared with each breath.
“Here, put this back in,” Nat said, handing her the oxygen tube. “And don’t look so shocked. We didn’t go hungry. And the others- they’ll probably be back to normal in a few months."
More like a few years, Sam thought.
“Enough of that. You’re getting your ears pierced next month?” Nat asked. “I distinctly recall that at fourteen I had NOT been allowed to get my ears pierced.” She gestured at her unpunctured ear lobes with a smile.
Her mother smothered a sob.
“Oh Mom, I didn’t mean to make you sad,” Nat said, squeezing her hand.
“I wish I’d let you do more,” her mom said. “I wish I had more memories with you. After your sacrifice…” she gestured helplessly. “I need a minute.” She stood and went toward the door.
Akemi spoke, the oxygen line drooping over her mouth. “Take your time Mom. We’ve got at least a couple hours before my surgery.” She looked back at her sister. “No crying now, Nat. Send Sam on an errand so we can have some girl talk.”
Sam grinned. “Get her to tell you about our trip to Merith,” he said. Nat grimaced and blushed, and Sam went to join Leo in the hallway.
Suddenly Sam was sixteen again, back on Spo. He had walked down the tall arched hallway to Greg’s office. Nat was already been there, leaning against the wall. She’d still had her arm in a cast from falling out of an air car.
Greg started right in, as he tended to do. “The genetic testing we did last year was primarily to catch your diseases. However, it was also used to predict the best possible pairing of cadets, along with your extensive personality profiles.”
“Um. What?” Sam asked.
“Pairing. Mating. Marriage. We think it would be best if many of the cadets are paired with each other. You have similar childhood experiences, and similar adult responsibilities.”
Sam had been so slow to catch on. “You want the cadets to start marrying each other? What, you want us to break it to them? No way. They’re still kids. Melanie just turned fourteen.”
“She reached sexual maturity two years ago,” Greg said.
“I know, but – I mean, I don’t KNOW,” Sam said, looking at Nat, “but that doesn’t matter. They’re all too young.”
“I understand your culture waits some years before mating. However, I did not mean all the cadets. I am speaking specifically of you and Nat.” Greg nodded at the two of them.
Stunned silence.
“I understand that since the Merith trip you have been physically affectionate – ”
“Oh wow. Stop,” Sam said. “You think we’re… sleeping… together, and…”
“Clearly I would not have allowed that,” Greg said. “I meant pre-sexual affection. Which led us to think it was time you were mated.”
Nat’s face was tense and red, like it was just now in the hospital. She wouldn’t meet Sam’s eyes.
“That’s not going to work,” Nat finally said. “No way.”
“Yeah, no way,” Sam added, backing her up. “Absolutely not. I mean, Nat’s great, but we’re not – you can’t BREED us.”
Greg frowned, turning a little pink with displeasure. “You and Nat are perfectly compatible for your species. Also the Asian phenotype is supposed to be acceptable to western standards. Your Native American gene type would blend with hers better than an Anglo-Saxon –“
Nat jumped to her feet. “Greg. Please, PLEASE don’t go on and on about it. You cannot dictate who we m-mate with.”
Greg looked surprised. “I thought, as you turn nineteen today, and Sam is already sixteen that you would be ready, both emotionally and physically, to begin a relationship – ”
This time Sam stood abruptly. “Sorry, Greg. No. We’re going. I mean, I’m going. I don’t know if Nat – never mind.” He strode out of the room and Nat followed him. She leaned against the wall in the hallway.
Sam paced down the hall, and then back again.
“Wow,” he said. “Sometimes I almost forget he’s an alien. Then – wow.” He paced a little more. “I wonder if he has everybody matched up.”
“Probably. That’ll be awkward,” Nat agreed.
“Yeah. But you and I – we don’t have to be weird just because of this…” Sam stooped to look in her eyes, he’d just had a growth spurt and wasn’t used to his height yet.
“No. We do not,” Nat said. Sam nodded and leaned forward to kiss her, but she put up a hand. “Not… for now,” she said slowly. “I need to go out. I’ll see you later.”
Of course, Nat had barely spoken to him after that.
Greg still hoped they would match up. He probably thought this hospital time would be a bonding experience, or perhaps he just wanted Nat’s family to meet Sam. Greg was so stupid sometimes. More likely than not, Nat would be even more reluctant to talk to him after this.
On the ride home, Mike drove, Leo rode shotgun, and Sam and Nat sat quietly in the back of the limo. It seemed huge without two Spo taking up the space.
Nat leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “You have a sister, don’t you?” she asked.
“Claudia. She’s a few years older than me.”
“Where does she live?”
“No idea. I grew up in Cloudcroft, New Mexico, near the Navajo reservation, moved to LA a year before the Spo came. She might have stayed, might have moved back. She was in college when I left.”
Nat was silent for a minute.
“I hope you get to see her again.”
Chapter 6
Claudia flew into the Long Beach airport, after getting a friend to cover for her at the animal clinic. Flying to Long Beach was cheaper than flying into LAX and only 30 miles away from Malibu, where she would find Sam. She’d bought tickets right after she saw him nearly catch on fire on the news.
Claudia stretched her hands toward the ceiling, breathing in through her nose, out through her mouth. She was an inch less than six feet and liked her height, except when she sat on a cramped airplane for three hours. Most of this flight she spent cleaning out the dried animal fluid under her fingernails, which effectively silenced the guy in 27B who kept trying to hit on her.
She’d only brought a carryon suitcase, so she went past the baggage claim without waiting. As she neared the glass doors, an uproar broke out behind her.
A huge cage was jammed in the baggage chute. It was shaped like an ordinary dog carrier, but big enough to carry a small donkey. Claudia nearly turned away but stopped when she saw a long tongue flick out of the cage. The tongue was thin, purple or dark blue, and at least a foot long.
Claudia worked with animals on a daily basis at the clinic in Santa Fe. She mostly saw pets: cats, dogs, iguanas, and the occasional snake. Once she got to treat a puma, a large cat similar to a mountain lion. She’d never seen anything like that tongue, in real life or video. She walked back to the baggage area.
An airport janitor tried to dislodge the cage with the end of a broom. She could see he was trying to be careful, so as not to send the cage careening to the floor, or to jab the broom through a hole and poke the animal.
He hooked the end gently in a hole and slowly pried the cage forward. He nearly had it out when a long, clawed finger slid out of the next hole, bent backward and sliced off the end of the broom.
Claudia gasped. A jointed finger – two, maybe three joints? The short end of the broom fell into the cage.
Quickly, with premeditated accuracy, the animal stuck the broom end through a hole in the
door and used it to rotate the lock.
The janitor exclaimed and several people yelled at the sight of those fingers. The crowd fell silent, mesmerized by the brown slimy fingers, with two-inch claws like a cat, manipulating the lock. With amazing precision, the animal exerted pressure until the lock gave an audible snick.
The door swung open, and people started screaming. The crowd began to move, like a flushing toilet finally plunged and flowing out. Claudia pushed against the flow, wanting to see the animal; possibly she could help contain it.
The conveyer belt under the cage suddenly gained enough friction to slide the cage the last inch out of the hole and with a bump it slid down the short ramp and onto the oval baggage carrel. The animal leapt out of the cage with a yelping scream. It was brown and toad-like, with a fanged snout. For a moment it crouched on the edge of the moving belt. Then it launched itself onto a red suitcase and tore at it viciously.
People screamed in earnest now and threw themselves backwards, away from the creature. But those by the doors were too slow, and the toilet became plugged again. As the animal circled on the conveyor belt, devouring its red polyester prey, a tangled riot of bodies developed. People twisted and fell and scrambled away from the baggage carrel, getting stepped on by others trying to get out of the way.
“Move, move! Let me through!” a man cried from the other side of the crowd. He was tall, she could see him over the heads of the others.
He succeeded in reaching the conveyor, and she lost sight of him, but she saw a spray of blood spatter the crowd, as the beast switched targets. The screams became more terrified and finally the crowd was thinning and Claudia could see the beast again.
It crouched over the tall guy, drooling on him. Claudia took advantage of the sudden space to get closer. She grabbed the nearest brightly colored bag, a yellow one, and chucked it past the animal. As she hoped, it followed the bag, leaping on it and sliding into a row of rental kiosks with a crash. Claudia went for the guy. He huddled on the floor holding his hand against his chest, his white shirt and khaki pants stained with a moderate river of blood. His eyes were wide and he scooted up against an Avis rental car desk. At least he wasn’t screaming. Probably in shock.
Manipulate (Alien Cadets) Page 4