The Lying Planet

by Carol Riggs

  Someone rests a warm hand on my back. Another hand pats my shoulder. A third person gives my neck a soft squeeze and slides down until an arm wraps around my waist. It’s Peyton, her face close to mine. She kisses my cheekbone and cries with me. Maybe she has exhausted the limits of her strength and reached her breaking point, too.

  I think we all have.

  …

  Peyton and I return to our morbid duty with the bodies, placing a row of alien shells in the yard across from mine. The green of shampoo glistens on the crustacean necks. Their appendages look like brittle twigs in stiff fetal positions.

  Harrel whirs up at last and climbs down from the garbage hovertruck. He shoots a glance at the rising sun. The glowing edge of it balances on the snowy peaks of the Corveira Mountains, as if resting there for a moment before continuing on.

  “I left Konrad at the medical center,” he says. “Shelly’s fixing his leg wound from a laser. A guard nailed him good. But the guards around the perimeter are dead—we went around and picked up the carcasses with the hovertruck.”

  “Okay. This should be the final load,” I say.

  “Did you find Misty?” Harrel’s broad face is raw and vulnerable.

  “No, sorry. We’ve looked all over the dwelling compound. We moved her sisters to the unit next door, since she won’t be there when they wake up.”

  Harrel eyes the sun again, and frowns. We work until my wristcomm reads 6:48. In twelve minutes, the tower will signal the beginning of a strange, shapeless new day. I stash my flamer in my dwelling, hiding it inside the oven until I can find a safer place.

  “We’re done for now,” I call to everyone on the streets. “We’ll dump the last hovertruck load of aliens later. Head for your homes so you can explain this mess to your siblings.”

  Everyone disperses, silent. Peyton and I walk to her unit first. She releases my hand when we reach her dwelling. A half-dozen fanged aliens are assembled on her plushgrass.

  “Don’t be afraid to let your sisters see you cry,” she says, and gives me a soft kiss.

  I nod, but I’d rather be done with tears. They don’t seem to help much, and they leave me drained inside and out. I continue on to Sean’s unit, where Leonard meets me at the door, his face pale. I fill him in on what’s been happening.

  He wrinkles his nose. “Great. Um, my other brother and my sisters are still at my unit. I’m gonna carry my baby brother over there. Can you stay with the kids here?”

  “Sure.”

  After he’s out the door with his brother, the tower gongs seven times. In the lounge room, Tammi stirs and sits up on the couch, rubbing her eyes, her dark hair tousled. A few seconds later, Sean’s twelve-year-old brother comes squinting and shuffling down the hall in his pajamas.

  “Where’s Sean and my mom and dad?” the boy asks.

  “They’re not here,” I say. “I’ll tell you why when your sister wakes up.”

  As he wanders back down the hall, Tammi bounds from the couch. “Jay! You came back, you came back!”

  She rushes at me. I scoop her into my arms. A powerful warmth spreads over me as she peppers my face with bird-like kisses.

  This. This is what I fought for last night.

  The front door opens and Sean steps in, out of breath. Ah, good. He made it here in time. I point to the bedrooms, and he heads there.

  Rachel yawns and stretches. Her eyelids are half-engaged, until she spots me. Her eyebrows arch. She looks around the lounge room and scrambles up. “Hi! Why are we in this unit, and what happened to your arm?”

  I settle on the couch with Tammi in my lap. “I got scratched a few hours ago. Mom and Dad are gone. We won’t get to see them anymore.”

  Tammi scrunches up her face. “Where did they go?” she asks in a small voice.

  Words stick on my tongue. There’s no easy way to do this. I let out a tired exhale. “Mom and Dad weren’t who we thought they were. They weren’t human.”

  Rachel crawls over and sits close to me. “Who…were they, then?”

  “They were bad aliens. Shape-shifters. Everyone’s parents in the safe zones were bad aliens who pretended to be good parents. I know that sounds weird, but it’s true.”

  “Not my mom and dad.” Tammi’s lower lip slides out.

  “I’m really sorry, but yes, even our mom and dad.” I run my hand through my hair. Torture. This is pure torture. I haven’t even gotten to the part where Mom and Dad are dead. As gently as I can, I explain how dangerous the aliens were, how we had a war to protect all the kids, and how the creatures who pretended to be our parents aren’t alive anymore.

  After I finish, they still don’t look convinced, so we borrow scuffs from Sean’s brothers for my sisters’ feet and all six of us tromp down the sidewalk toward Peyton’s yard. Sean throws me an anxious look over his siblings’ heads. He’s apparently having as much trouble explaining this as I am.

  Rachel and Tammi take in the dark smears of dried alien blood and the scorched bushes as we walk. There’s a crowd milling around Peyton’s yard. Most of the younger kids are wearing pajamas. Peyton must be inside with her brothers, but her thirteen-year-old sister struts around like she’s in charge of the bodies.

  “See, that thick green stuff on their necks is shampoo,” she says, pointing. “Peyton says that’s what smothered them and saved us from being alien chow after we’re Tested.”

  “Look at those wicked fangs,” a young boy says.

  Rachel stares down at the bodies. “Gross. Are any of these supposed to be Mom and Dad?”

  “No,” I say. “But they looked about the same. Some of these have longer ears or fangs, and some have different colored fur on their heads.”

  Tammi buries her head against my stomach. “They look mean and hungry. Mom and Dad weren’t like that.”

  “You’re right. They treated us nicely, like we treat the cows and chickens and worrels. But we eat those animals, don’t we?”

  “Yeaaaah.”

  “It’s the same with these alien moms and dads. They took good care of us mostly because they planned to eat us someday.” I hate the sick feeling in my gut, but this explanation has to be made.

  A few meters away, Rachel’s face twists up. “No, no—this is all stupid! I don’t believe any of this dung-talk about aliens eating us.”

  Before I can answer, she spins and races off down the permawalk. With a groan, I scoop Tammi into my arms, ignoring the pain of my bandaged wound. I stride after Rachel and try to keep her in sight. Her scuffs slap the pavement as she passes burned shrubs, a wrecked UHV, and some of my friends with their siblings. She runs full speed until she reaches our street. I’m too exhausted to catch up, especially since I’m carrying Tammi.

  Another crowd gathers around another line of alien carcasses across from our dwelling. A whiff of sulfur taints the air even though the charred ones are gone.

  The moment Rachel slips into our unit, I remember what’s in there.

  The deceased human bodies of my friends.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  As fast as I can, I reach our yard and lower Tammi to her feet.

  Stars in the flippin’ universe—

  “Rachel!” I yell through the opened door. “Don’t mess with the sheets in the lounge room!”

  I stumble inside with Tammi on my heels, but it’s too late. Rachel is holding up the edge of one sheet, breathing in quick gasps.

  “It’s Randy,” she cries. “And Tara from your study group. They’re lasered. There’s Coralene…she’s burnt like Mick.”

  “Like Mick?” Tammi says with a squeak. She runs over to look before I can stop her. “How’d Coralene get burned with genomide dust?”

  “She didn’t, sweetie,” I say. “Those burns are from the aliens’ weapons.” I trudge into the kitchen and retrieve the flamer. As best as I can, as calmly as Dad would do it, I explain how the aliens started the Genomide War and Promise City is destroyed. I tell them about the now-harmless dust and the ruthless scavenger tea
ms. Tammi taps one of the gleaming black spikes with a careful finger. I roll up my pants leg, show them my wound, and describe Farrow’s assassin game with the graduates.

  “Were you scared?” Tammi whispers.

  “Very, very scared. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to get back home to you and Rachel. But I made it to an outer zone colony and found Blake and Shelly and some other people.”

  Rachel and Tammi stare at me, clearly trying to process my words.

  I sink onto the couch. Overload. I’ve reached it—passed it—hours ago. My head swims, my limbs tingle. I want to drop out of consciousness and sleep for eons.

  Rachel sits beside me, touching the paste-covered brand on my forehead. She leans against my shoulder. Tammi curls up under my good arm. We sit without speaking.

  “Everything was a lie,” Rachel finally says, her voice toneless. “Mom and Dad being nice. Commander Farrow and the ceremony prizes. It was just a sneaky way of keeping us happy until they killed us. I’m so mad I believed them…it hurts my head, and it hurts my heart.”

  “That’s exactly how I felt when I found out,” I say.

  Fatigue catches up to me in an aggressive wave. I hang my head and let the tears stream from my eyes.

  Rachel and Tammi cry with me. I mourn for what we thought was true about our lives, as well as for what should’ve been our future. My soul feels weary, as though somehow, this whole zone has been plowed with it.

  …

  While my sisters retreat to murmur in their room, I drop off into a nap, sleeping hard for an hour until a stream of mourners begin arriving to pay their respects to our friends. I take Rachel and Tammi to Blake’s and Harrel’s units, where the sheets are pulled back and more dead are respectfully laid out. A fourth unit holds the rest of the casualties. Near the end of the row, one bruised, lifeless body stands out from the others, because the girl isn’t wearing our normal plain uniform. Instead, she wears tan overalls over a shirt of green and brown camouflage.

  I step toward the girl, my heart thumping hard. White paste covers the middle of the girl’s forehead. A cloth covers a bloody spot across her ribs, probably where she got lasered. She has dark hair cropped short like a guy’s on one side and chin-length on the other.

  Marnica.

  Oh no, no. I sink to my knees next her, my throat clogging up. She can’t be dead. None of the deaths in this battle was acceptable, but Marnica was free in New Paradise. She didn’t have to fight with us. I didn’t know her well when she lived in Sanctuary, but I was starting to get to know her in the outer zones.

  It’s not fair.

  I touch the too-cool skin of her forearm. The last time I saw her was just before we invaded. I remember the pressure of her fingers as she squeezed my arm, and her words to me about Mom and Dad: Just remember who they are, not who you thought they were for the last eighteen years. Good luck.

  I was lucky to survive our uprising. Marnica was not.

  “Thanks for helping us win the war,” I say down to her, my words faint.

  Lifting my head, I notice Rachel and Tammi huddled in a corner talking to Harrel’s eight-year-old sister. They’re fine for a few minutes. I stagger out the opened front door for some air.

  Fifty-six dead in Sanctuary, fifty-seven counting Marnica. It’s a big chunk out of the approximately five hundred who agreed to be warriors. I’d hoped for fewer casualties.

  Lots fewer.

  The price of freedom in Refuge was even more costly, with forty-eight kids dead out of the two hundred old enough to be fighting. On his wristcomm, Vic reported eleven deaths in Fort Hope. Out of thirty fighters, it’s terrible odds.

  Harrel swerves up in a dark gray UHV and jumps out, his face more tense and his eyes more shadowed than I’ve ever seen them. “I made the last alien incinerator run. Shall we…um, do the same with our deceased after everyone’s done viewing?”

  I close my eyes for a moment. “That’ll work. We can have a memorial in the stadium later—once we haul that freaking evil Machine out of there.”

  “Yeah.” Harrel frowns and grips the laser pistol in his utility belt. “But Misty’s still missing, and we’re still short one alien in our count. I hope the beast didn’t escape the zone.”

  I mutter a mild oath. I should’ve been paying more attention instead of napping. The danger isn’t over until we find that last alien. “I’ll do a sweep with you. We also need to get workers down to the animal compounds to feed and milk the cows.” It’s up to us to keep things running. No adults are here to prod us into doing chores, or lure us into working long hours by promising rewards.

  “Right.” Harrel nods to someone behind me, and I turn. Blake is walking up with Aubrie, his forehead bandaged. They’re holding hands. Already. My guts twist, but I breathe deeply. It’s okay. He can be with her…but I wonder—does he know about Marnica?

  Aubrie flicks a look at me and drops her gaze to her boots. “Hey, Harrel. Jay. Sorry I didn’t believe you about the aliens first off. Anyway, we’re having someone bring a transport bus to pick up the little ones. I’d like to get the preschool going today. To make the day as normal as we can for the kids.”

  “Great.” She’s definitely smart and responsible, just what we need right now. “If another group can watch the primary kids at their compound, the older ones can do our regular community service work.”

  “Someone else can do the chores,” Blake says. “As soon as I get Aubrie settled, Shelly and I are going to hunt down that last alien she reported on the wristcomms.”

  Aubrie shivers, eyeing the perimeter fence in the distance. “I hope the alien hasn’t escaped through the fence gap.”

  “I doubt it,” Harrel says, climbing into the UHV. “Three of our guys are posted there with rifles and pistols. Let’s get going, Jay.”

  I hesitate as a younger girl walks up and says something to Aubrie.

  “Hold on a sec, Harrel.” I pull Blake aside and jerk my head toward the unit. “You might want to go pay your last respects at some point. Marnica’s in there.”

  “She’s— Are you serious?” His face goes pale as he meets my eyes. He swears. “I…I’ll go see her later, when Aubrie’s not around.”

  I press one hand on his shoulder for a brief moment, not trusting my voice.

  After I make a quick arrangement to place Rachel and Tammi somewhere for the day, Harrel and I drive around to collect Peyton and Sean, as well as three workers to milk the cows. I also nab my flamer from my unit. We aim for the dairy first. The field grasses and laceweeds blow in the wind, same as always, but today our world is far from normal.

  At the dairy, Harrel docks the UHV. The workers head for the milking machines and the bawling cows who are uncomfortable and desperate to be milked, while Sean follows with a laser pistol in case the missing alien is hiding in the barns. Peyton angles off in another direction with her pistol to check the rest of the grounds.

  “Keep an eye out for Misty,” Harrel calls. He looks steady enough, but I see the muscle jumping in his cheek and the tightness of his shoulders.

  As Harrel and I approach the dairy unit, a loud thump comes from inside. A hair-raising female scream follows it.

  “Misty!” Harrel yells.

  He dashes through the front door, laser pistol in hand. I follow close behind with my flamer. We whip into the kitchen, ducking as a flame plug flies by our heads and burns a scorching black mark onto one wall. Misty is grappling with her mother, who snarls like a rabid vermal.

  “Look out, she has a fire gun!” Misty cries as she sees us.

  Before Harrel can shoot his laser, Misty’s mother fires the flamer again. The blast hits Misty across one arm and sends her flying backward onto the floor. She screams in agony. Harrel fires, searing her mother’s hand—and the flamer rattles to the floor.

  I’m one second behind him as fangs and a snout flicker. I shoot. Her chest, ribs, hair, and clothing catch fire in a whoosh of bright heat. The beast that was Misty’s mother dies quickly, dropping in
flames and a crackle of spiny legs.

  Harrel drops to his knees beside Misty, who’s gasping and groaning. She cradles a horribly burnt arm, all the way down to her fingers. The side of her jaw is also red and blistered. A stench of sulfur hangs in the air. “Easy, Misty,” he says. “I’m here—I’m here. We’re going to take care of you.”

  Coughing in the smoke, I snatch up an extinguisher capsule and activate it. While the foam spreads, smothering the flames on the fanged body, I toss my flamer on the counter. I grab the first aid kit under the sink. My fingers shake on the burn spray dispenser as I crouch and apply a generous coating over Misty’s jaw, arm, and hand. The wounds don’t look good.

  She relaxes a little, her moans lessening from the numbing agent. “Oh, man. It still feels like I’m on fire, but it’s loads better.” She grabs Harrel around the back of his neck with her good hand, and pulls him into a firm kiss. “I thought I’d never see you again—”

  “Same here.” Harrel starts to speak again, but only a cracked grunt makes it out.

  Sean comes running into the kitchen. “Misty! I heard you scream all the way from the milking barn. What happened?”

  Misty takes a shuddering inhale. “Mom was awake at thirteen o’clock. Except she looked like that.” She throws a repulsed glance at the alien body. “I couldn’t get to the shampoo. Mom grabbed a knife and threatened to kill my sisters if I tried to escape. She woke up Dad. They decided Mom would come wait here, while Dad stayed in the neighborhoods to help the horde.”

  Yeah. That’s about when I showed up along the permawalk and flamed him.

  “Mom turned human so she could walk faster,” Misty says. “The transformation was sickening. As we hurried along the road in the dark, somehow she knew Dad was dead. She was frothing wild with grief by the time we got here. When Commander Farrow and the perimeter guards also died, she got out a flamer that was locked up here. She was going to hold me hostage and force her way out of the zone.”