What was that all about?
When she returned her attention to him, she huffed an angry sigh. “That was Vero. The little monster’s been sneaking in here to pee on my pillow. He hates me.”
Vero. Aelyx released a sigh of his own. He missed his house pet, a fiercely loyal animal, though certainly not without quirks. “Vero’s breed is territorial,” Aelyx explained. “Once he identifies you as part of the pack, he’ll stop marking your bedding.” But in order for that to happen, the clones in the Aegis would need to accept Cara as one of their own. “Better tell the house caretaker to change the settings on your touchpad so Vero can’t get inside.”
Cara nodded, but she didn’t recover her earlier cheer. She slouched and traced imaginary patterns on her blanket. “I can tell the clones don’t want me here. Most of them won’t look at me, and the others make this sign when I walk by.” In demonstration, she touched her thumb and pinkie together. “What does it mean?”
“Uh…” He didn’t want to give her the literal translation—fornicate with a h’ava beast and kill yourself with fire. “It’s our version of the middle finger.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Give it time,” he said. “You’re unfamiliar to the clones and they don’t understand you yet.”
“I know.” She stared at her hands and shrugged. “My Sh’ovah is in a few days. Maybe that’ll help. I hear they’re supposed to think of me as a sister after that.”
Aelyx paused as a pang of guilt settled low in his belly. For a L’eihr, nothing was more sacred than Sh’ovah. Younglings looked forward to that day for well over a decade, until the Elders deemed them worthy. He should be there with Cara to celebrate her union with the Sacred Mother, not here, stuck on Earth, squabbling with politicians. “I’m sorry to miss it. Who’s your sponsor?”
“Elle.”
“Good.” At least it wasn’t that fasher Jaxen. “She’ll take her duties seriously.”
Cara’s door hissed open again, and Elle’s voice called, “Come on. It’s our turn to sanitize the kitchen.”
Aelyx missed a lot of things about home, but cleanup detail wasn’t one of them. “You’d better hurry,” he told her. “If you’re late, they’ll add an extra day.”
Cara didn’t need further convincing. After a wave and a quick “Love you,” she disconnected and disappeared from view.
Aelyx remained kneeling for several seconds, as if to hold on to the warmth of her smile. Only when he heard the echo of voices from the hallway did he relinquish Cara’s ghost and rejoin the others.
Stepha had finished conferring with The Way, and he rested opposite Director-General Kendrick on a plush leather armchair while Colonel Rutter and David sat beside each other on the sofa. Tension clung to the air like mist, each man silent but speaking volumes through his rigid posture. Aelyx dragged a dining room chair near the coffee table and took his seat, then used Silent Speech to ask the ambassador what he’d learned.
Did they approve the alliance? he asked Stepha. Can we return home?
When Stepha replied, a hint of confusion colored his thoughts. No. Human deference isn’t enough. The Way wants the general population on Earth to support the union between our worlds.
But why? Aelyx asked. That doesn’t make sense. The purpose behind the alliance was to recruit human colonists and integrate on L’eihr, infusing fresh DNA into the populace. Already, thousands of healthy young humans had submitted applications, eager to begin life anew on the colony. It was just a matter of screening them for mental wellness and superior IQ, then finding willing matches among the clones. What did it matter whether or not the rest of Earth’s population approved?
It is not our place to question The Way, Stepha told him. Only to follow—
Follow The Way to glorify Mother L’eihr, Aelyx finished. I understand. Though he didn’t understand at all.
“On the first day of spring,” Stepha announced to the group, “as a symbol of rebirth, The Way will join Earth’s leaders here in an alliance ceremony. Our scientists will then provide you with the solution to neutralize the algae blooms burgeoning in your oceans.” He pulled in a deep breath and clarified, “But this is contingent on your control of human violence. Any further attempts on our lives will terminate all relations between us. Your people must support the partnership between our worlds in order for us to move forward.”
So not only was Aelyx trapped here for another three months, but he had to avoid acts of violence, too? It was impossible. Human extremists didn’t support the alliance—they believed L’eihrs had poisoned the water supply in an effort to enslave humanity. Not only were they wrong, but they didn’t know about the algae blooms, nor that the problem was spreading. The only way to win them over was to tell the truth about their dying planet, which he’d been expressly forbidden from doing.
The director-general rubbed his jaw. “Sounds like we have some serious public relations work ahead of us.”
“That was the purpose of the student exchange,” Colonel Rutter said. “It was going fine until…” He trailed off, and all eyes shifted to Aelyx.
Until the L’eihr students were caught tampering with the crops and one of them was murdered for it. Coincidentally, Syrine chose that moment to emerge from her bedroom and join them.
Aelyx addressed the group. “What can we do to help?”
“How about a multicity PR tour?” the director-general suggested. “We can identify the hot spots of extremist activity and send the L’eihrs there to do good deeds on camera, then broadcast it nationwide.”
“I guess it’s worth a shot.” Colonel Rutter nodded in consideration. “With a constant security detail, of course.”
“Of course,” the director-general agreed. “We’ll treat this like a presidential reelection campaign—nobody without security clearance will get anywhere near the L’eihrs. We’ll even screen the participants in each photo op to make sure no one poses a threat. A few months of kissing babies and shaking hands should be all we need to turn the public’s opinion in our favor.”
Syrine drew back, curling her upper lip in disgust. “Kissing?” she screeched. “With humans? That’s a—”
The ambassador caught her eye and instantly silenced her with a stern private message. Aelyx didn’t need Silent Speech to understand what was transpiring between the two of them. Stepha’s narrowed gaze and Syrine’s darkening cheeks said it all.
After a few moments, she forced a grin that wouldn’t fool a blind man. “A wonderful idea. I will gladly participate.”
“Then we’re agreed,” said the director-general. “I’ll have my staff make the necessary arrangements and book your first appearance. We’ll want to get the ball rolling right away, so go ahead and pack a suitcase.”
“Cool,” David said with the only genuine smile in the room. “We’re going on tour!”
“We?” Syrine turned to Aelyx for clarification.
David is our personal bodyguard, Aelyx told her. He’ll be living with us for the rest of our stay on Earth.
Bleeding Mother. Syrine didn’t bother disguising her distaste for the young man. Why couldn’t The Way simply give us a dozen lashes with the iphet instead?
“How exciting,” she said aloud, then faced their new bodyguard. “I can hardly wait.”
Chapter Four
FRIDAY, JANUARY 16
What the FAQ?!
It’s Sh’ovah Day, and what better way to celebrate my impending L’eihr citizenship than to feed your inquiring minds? Without further ado, here are the most frequently asked questions this week:
Sarah in San Marcos asks: Are there really no sweets on L’eihr? Can we send you a Hershey’s care package?
Thanks, Sarah, that’s so SWEET of you. Hardy-har-har. To answer your question: yes and no. Natural sugars don’t exist here, and my nutrition counselor won’t let me have candy from the transport. He claims I’m an addict and that my body is going through detox. Maybe he’s right. You don’t want to know what I’d do for s
ome Pixy Stix.
Tori in Midtown (my paranoid BFF) asks: Why aren’t you posting any pics? I want to see for myself that you’re okay. How do we know you’re the one who’s writing all this stuff?
Step away from the National Enquirer, my friend. I’m not preggers with an alien baby or being held here against my will. The L’eihrs have requested that I don’t share photos or video of their home without prior approval. And how do you know this is me? I’ll prove it: in seventh grade, you burped really loudly in Social Studies, and I took the blame so you wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of Jared Lee. You’re welcome for that, by the way. Also, lay off the onions.
Dixie in Columbus asks: How do you get news on L’eihr? Do you watch television?
Great question! Nope, there are no TV shows or movies here. News is delivered to our com-spheres, and we’re expected to listen to the updates immediately. Think of a com-sphere as the ultimate iPhone. It emits a frequency only I can hear, and if I ignore my sphere, it’ll keep pestering me until I answer it.
Okay, guys, that’s it for now. I need to get ready for my Sh’ovah. Just think: the next time I post to this blog, I’ll be an official L’eihr citizen! Isn’t that awesome?
Posted by Cara Sweeney
“Psh,” Cara whispered. Getting naked in front of aliens wasn’t her idea of awesome, but whatever.
She closed her laptop and crept to the door as quietly as possible to avoid waking Elle, who snored softly from the top bunk. Eron had been right when he’d called the sound “endearing.” Elle slept on her tummy with both hands tucked beneath her chest, snuffling like a child. It was such a cute contrast to the businesslike way she directed Cara from class to class during the daytime.
Cara slipped into the hall and tiptoed to the community bathroom, pleased to find it vacant. Privacy was a rare delicacy in the Aegis, and she needed a few moments to herself today.
She snatched a microfiber towel from the shelf and blotted her face. Her impending Sh’ovah had her perspiring like a linebacker, but whether on Earth or in another galaxy, high school was a battlefield. Cara never let anyone see her sweat.
After wiping down the back of her neck and the crooks of her elbows, she balled up her towel and chucked it into the waterless purifying chute, where ultrasonic waves and infrared technology would decontaminate it.
Cara fingered the lapel of her stiff white ceremonial robe. A quick glance over one shoulder showed she was still alone, but she knew from experience the bathroom wouldn’t remain vacant once the sun rose in a few minutes. So without wasting another second of rare solitude, she dropped her robe to the floor and regarded her naked body in the reflective wall opposite the showers.
Right away, she noticed a slight roundness to her lower abdomen—that troublesome spot no amount of crunches would flatten. She sucked it in, and from there, her gaze moved from ankles to thighs, noting the smooth, polished effect she’d achieved last night from scrubbing her skin with a mixture of oil and salt procured from the kitchen. Her ivory complexion glowed, and with any luck, it would reflect the high-noon sunlight and blind all her guests.
She loosened her ponytail and pulled her auburn strands forward to see if they’d cover her breasts, but no dice. With a frown, she secured her hair with the jeweled clasp Elle had given her as a sponsor gift, then donned her robe as the first yawning clone shuffled in, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
Cara didn’t know the girl’s name. She hated to admit it, but most of the clones still looked the same to her. “Mahra,” Cara said, shrinking back at her own loud echo. She hadn’t learned many words yet, but she could manage hello, good-bye, and sorry, pardon my ignorance.
The girl paused, taking in the circular bronze emblems that adorned the shoulders of Cara’s ceremonial robe. They were symbols of the Sacred Mother, L’eihr itself, and the stark white of the fabric represented the purity of heart with which Cara would pledge her fealty to the planet. Funny how white stood for virtue no matter which galaxy you inhabited.
The girl pursed her lips in hesitation, and after scanning the room as if to ensure they were alone, she offered a curt “Wel-come,” in broken English before striding to a nearby toilet enclosure. It wasn’t much, but that quiet greeting was more than Cara had received from her schoolmates since she’d joined their ranks.
Maybe this Sh’ovah was a good idea after all.
Another girl strode into the washroom, and she was one of the few clones Cara recognized. She carried herself with more arrogance than the rest, and her mouth was always pinched in a scowl. Her name was Dahla, and she’d been the first to give Cara “the finger.”
Cara tipped her head in a greeting and waited for the girl to do the same. But Dahla tossed back her ponytail and strode toward the toilets, making sure to bump Cara’s arm extra hard when she passed.
“Open your eyes,” Dahla said in English. “Clumsy human.”
Refusing to be baited, Cara held her head high and returned to her room. She reminded herself of what Aelyx had said. Everything would be all right. The clones simply needed time to get used to her.
She clung to the remnants of that confidence hours later, when Troy’s knuckles rapped on her bedroom door. “Elle isn’t here,” she told him. Cara suspected that most of his visits were really covert missions to cozy up to her roommate.
“Good,” Troy said. “’Cause I want to talk to you alone.” He flicked a glance at her robe and took a step back, eyeing her warily, as if she might detonate if he got too close. He wrinkled his nose and extended one index finger. “Are you naked under there?”
Cara wrapped the lapels more snugly across her chest and tightened the belt at her waist. “Don’t be such a prude. I’m more covered up now than all the times you’ve seen me in a bathing suit.” Thank God that only L’eihr citizens could attend her Sh’ovah. She’d die a thousand deaths if Troy saw her naked. But to complete her ruse of boldness, she added, “There’s nothing obscene about the human body. You’re only ashamed because our society taught you to be.”
He folded his arms and focused over her shoulder, taking an abrupt interest in her room. Not that there was anything remotely interesting in there. Bare gray walls and minimalist furnishings made up her décor, consisting of a bunk bed and a cabinet that looked like a cross between an armoire and a refrigerator.
“I can’t have a conversation with you while you’re naked,” Troy complained. “It skeeves me out.”
“Then come back later.”
“I can’t. It’ll be too late then.”
“Too late for what?”
Puffing in exasperation, he turned to face her. “Too late to talk you out of this citizenship stuff. You don’t belong here, Pepper. This place is…uh…” He deliberated over his next choice of words, then leaned in and confided, “Intense.” While she shook her head, Troy hitched a thumb toward Aelyx’s vacant room a few doors down. “Listen, I know you like this guy—”
“Love,” she corrected. “I love this guy.”
“Right.” He flashed his most condescending whatever face. “But you’ve got nothing in common. It won’t last.”
Cara gripped her waist. “Just because you change girlfriends before your gum loses flavor doesn’t mean my relationship is doomed to fail.”
“It’s basic statistics.” His blue eyes flashed to hers. “You know what the divorce rate is for teens?” Without giving her a chance to guess, he announced, “Three times the national average.”
“The national average is fifty percent, Einstein.”
“Then you have a one hundred and fifty percent chance of breaking up. Even higher if you take into account that you’re from different worlds. That brings it to”—he counted silently on his fingers—“like, four thousand percent.”
Poor Troy. What he lacked in brains he made up for in…well, something other than brains. “I found my match,” Cara said. “Why should I be penalized because I’m young? Besides, it doesn’t matter, because I’m not getting married.” Matr
imony didn’t even exist here. L’eihrs declared a l’ihan and that was that. Zero drama.
“You promised to stay here and be with him for life. It’s the same thing, minus a piece of paper.”
She couldn’t dispute that, so she adopted a new tactic. “It’s none of your business.”
“Wha—” He blinked at her in silence for a few beats. “You’re my sister!”
She couldn’t dispute that, either—she didn’t want to. She’d always wished Troy would take an interest in her life. It was a shame he’d waited until now to play the role of protective big brother. In less than a week, he’d be gone again.
They’d never been touchy-feely types, but Cara rested her fingertips on his forearm. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I expect you to support me.”
That seemed to get through to him. “Fine. When things don’t work out, I guess you can catch the next transport to Earth.”
Cara sighed. If he didn’t believe her, nothing she said would change his mind. She told him good-bye and slid the door shut.
Elle returned from the medical lab right before lunchtime, greeting Cara with a smile and a l’ina sandwich. Vero, who rode atop Elle’s shoulder, greeted her with a beady-eyed glare and a growl, flicking his long tail like a cat to show his displeasure.
“Ve-ro!” Elle warned the creature.
With his racoonish gray paws, Vero covered his eyes, reminiscent of a toddler who knew he’d done wrong. He peeked out from between his tiny digits and howled aaaeee-oooo at Cara. It sounded like haaaate yooou, which was probably what the little pillow-pisser meant.
Cara shot daggers at her deceptively cute, fuzzy nemesis, using her eyes to warn him away from her bed. She took the sandwich from Elle, but when she brought the flatbread to her lips, the meat’s smoky aroma made her stomach lurch, so she set it on her desk and pushed it aside. “Thanks, but I’d better save it for later.”
Elle whispered a L’eihr command to Vero, and the animal leaped onto Cara’s desk and began nibbling on her discarded sandwich. While brushing a few bits of fur from her shoulder, Elle said, “You’re nervous.”
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