by Jason Parent
“We are not indestructible,” Lenyx continued. “And we are not here to take over Earth.” Connor seemed less anxious but still kept his distance from the group.
Lenyx turned to Milliken. “I should have you skinned and might if I thought it was still possible. You knew this would happen to us, yet you let it happen anyway.”
“Before you punish me for my deception, think it through. Water is in everything here, the air, the ground… all life. There is no avoiding it. Your evolution was bound to happen sooner or later. I just allowed, as the humans say, nature to take its course.”
“That may well be true, but who are you to decide our fates?” Lenyx asked. “How do you know if we can survive like this? Go home like this? Can you be certain our bodies haven’t changed in other ways, harmful ways? We could be dying as we speak.”
Tryst knew Milliken was only trying to do what he thought was best, even if his actions were brazen and impulsive. Milliken stared at the ground.
“Don’t you realize?” Lenyx asked, softening his tone. “We could be the last of our kind. We need Kazi’s brain on this.”
Tryst looked around, but she didn’t see Kazi anywhere. She hoped he was okay.
“How are you holding up?” Lenyx asked her. He rubbed her shoulders. “This is a bit much for all of us to take in. Are you okay?”
“I’m handling it,” she said, flashing him a shaky smile. “We’re warriors, right?”
“And you, Connor?” Lenyx asked. “How are you managing this?”
“Ask me again in four days when the shock subsides,” Connor answered. “I keep telling myself I must be dreaming and praying the nightmare part is over. But you already knew that, with your telepathic powers and all, didn’t you?”
“I am respecting your privacy. I’ll instruct the others to do the same. We can see that you mean us no harm. After all you’ve been through, we can ask no more of you.”
Tryst watched as human and Symorian interacted, two beings separated by a vast expanse of space able to communicate civilly despite their differences and their earlier transgressions. Maybe their crashing on that planet had been a fortunate mistake. Then, she shivered, recalling what she had learned of the humans’ past, filled with bloodshed not unlike that of her own kind. She wondered why the humans couldn’t stop fighting among themselves like the Symorians had. Would the relationship Lenyx was hoping to build with them likewise fall to ruin?
Maybe they just haven’t fallen far enough yet.
“Damn it. Where’s Kazi?” Lenyx asked, ripping Tryst from her thoughts.
“He awoke before the two of you,” Milliken said. “He mentioned something about testing out his new powers and took off that way.” He pointed to a dark expanse of woods that looked like all the other dark expanses of woods leading off in every other direction.
“Why can’t I sense his thoughts… or yours for that matter, Milliken?” Lenyx asked.
Milliken shrugged. “He’s already learned to block it, I suppose. It’s not hard. You’ll figure it out soon enough.”
“Well, then, until I do, stay out of my head. That goes for Tryst and Connor’s, as well.”
“Understood, commander.”
“Commander?” Lenyx asked. “That has a nice sound to it. Anyway, let’s go find Kazi. We should head back to the ship and plan our strategy. It’s much easier to work in this moonlight than during the daytime.”
“Who knew our planet could be so blinding?” Tryst asked, thinking of the dark seclusion and comfort of a home so far away.
“I’ll bring him back here,” Milliken said. He disappeared in the direction he had pointed.
“How is Kazi supposed to test us?” Tryst asked. “It won’t be easy to take blood samples from our bodies.”
“He’ll figure it out,” Lenyx said, smiling. “Besides, he has you to help him.” He brushed her hair from her face, propping it over her ear. She smiled shyly, appreciating the rare show of affection in a non-private setting.
“Am I coming with you?” Connor asked, interrupting her moment. For a second, she disliked him for it.
“That’s up to you,” Lenyx responded. “You are not our prisoner. We welcome your assistance, but in the end, the decision is yours.”
CHAPTER TEN
Why did I stay with them? I had every opportunity to run. Why did I agree to help them? Connor stared at Kazi’s back. The big one seems okay, but that one… that one particularly concerns me. There’s something about him—
“Ouch!” Warm, fresh blood trickled down his shin as Connor pulled his leg free from a thorn patch. This idea just keeps getting better and better. While the four aliens walked surefooted through fertile and foreign terrain, the resident human struggled to keep his footing. With nothing but the light of the moon to guide him, Connor tripped repeatedly. A few times, he fell. Each time, he picked himself up and trudged forward, refusing to make eye contact with the aliens out of sheer embarrassment.
If he wasn’t covered in ticks and other nasty critters yet, he would be by sunrise. And let’s not forget the poison ivy. Connor scratched his forearm, not knowing if the itch was real or imagined. A research and lab geek by trade, he didn’t spend much time in the field. He had experienced more than his fair share of stimulation for one evening. He hadn’t pulled an all-nighter since college. Still, he had no desire to go home and no one to go home to.
“I take it you guys can see better than I can right now,” he said.
Connor shared his observation with Milliken, who was bringing up the rear. Oddly, he felt most comfortable speaking with the largest, most fearful-looking of their brood. Milliken had explained much while the others were unconscious, but Connor still had so many questions. He sure as hell didn’t know whether he could trust any of them.
The aliens walked in front of him. His stare never left their backs, concerned they might turn around at any moment and strike.
Each time Connor stumbled, Milliken waited patiently for him to regain his feet and catch up to the group. Connor questioned his motives, if he was being considerate or merely keeping guard. He figured it was probably a bit of both.
For his part, Milliken seemed delighted to practice his conversation skills. As they spoke, the alien stayed just beyond arm’s length. Connor was thankful for this, knowing that his constant tripping and flailing arms could cause his disintegration should he collide with Milliken. Certain he would trip again, he prayed Milliken wasn’t so considerate that he’d try to catch him.
“We are accustomed to darkness,” Milliken said. “Our home is only a bit brighter than this. Our atmosphere is similar to that haze you see around the moon or around a candle flame, not quite fog but not entirely transparent either. It glows a reddish hue.”
“You said you live in the sun.” Connor stroked his chin. “How is that possible?”
Milliken laughed. “According to your scientists, it’s not. But your scientists also once thought your planet was flat.”
Connor shrugged off the jab. He was one of those scientists, but he didn’t feel responsible for all the errors they’d made since humanity’s beginnings. “What’s it like there?”
“Well,” Milliken began, “it’s not the easiest thing to describe to someone who lives on the outside of their planet. Your world is sort of inside-out to us. Picture one of those amusement park rides that spin around so fast that its riders stick to the wall. That’s us, I suppose, stuck against the wall, only we’re spinning just fast enough to stick, not to pin us in place. It’s like walking on the inside of a marble, minus the slippery surface.”
“You’re surrounded by flames,” Connor said. “You should be consumed by it… or at least roasted. I don’t get it.”
“There’s vast, empty, oxygen-less space surrounding your planet. It’s cold and inhabitable, yet it doesn’t freeze the Earth or swallow it whole. Let me try it this way. Like Earth, the sun has a core. That core is Symoria, our home. It’s similar to Earth’s subterranean caverns, ab
sent direct sunlight, but lit like a hearth. There is an atmosphere, breathable air, but if humans tried to inhale it, they’d likely combust or burn their lungs so badly they’d die instantly. Of course, you would probably be cremated well before you could even take your first breath.”
“What kind of life can sustain itself in such an environment? There must be no water.”
“There is little water in the desert, but life sustains itself there. We get our nourishment from a single food source, kalifer, and store it much like a camel stores water, but for a much longer period of time. Kalifer looks a bit like a dragon fruit on the outside, but it does not fall easily into your animal or plant classifications. It roams like an animal.”
“And you said earlier that your supply of this kalifer has grown short,” Connor said. “That’s why you’re here, right?”
“Yes. My people are starving. I haven’t eaten in several months. For others, it has been more than a year. It’s said that if we don’t find kalifer or a suitable replacement soon, our bodies will begin eating away at themselves. Ironically, I feel healthier than ever. Perhaps the water here will suffice. And it’s had some amazing effects on my genetic makeup.”
“So you’re a space camel vampire that derives superpowers from water? That’s not nearly as terrifying as your appearance suggests.”
“Please don’t compare us to those vile creatures,” Milliken said. “We are civilized and intelligent. It’s amazing how alike we are, actually. The biggest difference, aside from appearances, is the human obsession with the fictional or hypothetical, with fantasies, folklore, and religion. Your vampires and werewolves are good examples—ludicrous fiction. We have no similar concepts. We know what we know, and we make no assumptions about what we don’t. We learn by starting with an established fact and deducing other facts from it through research and investigation and even through trial and error. We worship nothing, relying only on ourselves.”
“Sounds like a boring way to live,” Connor said. Still, he imagined a culture free from evil premised on misguided assumptions, a world without genocide. “So science has completely dispelled theology from your society?”
“Theology was never there to begin with,” Milliken said. “We are born equal, a concept on which your nation claims to pride itself. But where here it is a fallacy, on Symoria, we have no class structure. Status is earned, not inherited. We receive our ranks by proving our worth.”
“What about art? Literature?”
“Also new concepts to us. If we return home, they’ll be difficult to explain. The harsh realities of our world leave little time for make-believe. There are… were… are so few of us that we must unite to survive as a race. We don’t have the luxury to be as disconnected as your planet’s peoples. There’s always work to be done. The only stories we have concern the glory and fall of our ancestors, the days of power and blood and banishment. A legend, some say, but perhaps this planet is the link between legend and history.”
“Quiet, you two,” Lenyx said, halting the group. He beckoned the others to him. “Don’t you hear them?”
Connor listened but heard nothing. Milliken looked puzzled. Then, one of his ears twitched. Everyone froze.
“What is it?” Kazi asked, whispering.
Lenyx set his jaw. “Humans, and lots of them. You can’t sense them?” He winced. “All their memories are flooding into my head at the same time. They’re surrounding the ship.”
“I hear it, a low buzz drilling into my skull,” Tryst said.
“You have to learn to block them out,” Milliken said.
“Can we get by them?” Kazi asked.
Lenyx shook his head. “They’ve set up a perimeter around the ship. We won’t be getting through it undetected.”
“Of course,” Connor said. “What did you expect would happen? A spaceship is the sort of thing that attracts a crowd.” Hell, it attracted me. “Maybe you should let me handle it. They’ll probably be armed.”
Lenyx glared at him. Was he looking for an ulterior motive? The others, too, were watching him suspiciously. They claimed to know everything about him. What did they think he could be up to?
“Admittedly, you’ve only known me a few hours,” Connor said. “But you’ve gone through my memories as if they were home videos. You know me. Anyway, you’re going to have to trust me. Or, you could just read my mind again.”
“I’m sorry,” Lenyx said. “We don’t trust easily, but that… won’t be necessary.”
“Consider it your first step toward uniting our worlds,” Connor replied, half in jest. If the government knew that the fallen object was not just another meteorite, a military presence with all its trappings would be waiting for them. Matthew’s gun was tucked in his waistband, pressing against his buttocks and hidden beneath his shirt. Connor threw it into the brush, thinking it would do him more harm than good. He doubted he’d even know how to use it.
The others watched him more closely. They said nothing. He stepped cautiously out of the dense woods toward the former shoreline of the lake. The aliens followed slowly, their footsteps eerily silent. The only sounds he heard were the chirping of crickets, the trampling of his feet and the passing of his labored breaths.
Being the leader worked to Connor’s advantage. He led the group onto a dirt path leading back to the lake. Once there, he was able to move less clumsily. The dampness after the rain brought out the mosquitos in hordes. If a sharp blade couldn’t pierce the aliens’ skin, Connor doubted a mosquito’s stinger could, making his blood the insects’ go-to source of nutrition. He itched from head to toe.
Approaching the beach, the path widened. But before he could get there, a camouflaged man stepped out of the brush just as Connor was passing him. The soldier raised something dark and shiny in his hand. Cold metal pressed against Connor’s temple. He heard a click. He’d seen enough Clint Eastwood movies to know it was the drawing back of a hammer.
“Don’t move,” a voice ordered from his left. Connor turned and stared down the barrel of a pistol, its dark, circular cavity hiding the bullet that would kill him. He froze.
A second soldier rose from a crouch no more than a few feet away. He aimed a much larger firearm at Connor, an assault rifle with some unknown letter and number combination as its name. To Connor, it might as well have been a cannon.
“Are you alone?” asked the soldier with a gun in Connor’s face. His dark eyes dared Connor to move.
“No.” Connor waited for the aliens to come forward. When they didn’t, he wondered if they had left him to fend for himself. I wasn’t a moment ago, anyway.
“How many are with you?” Dark Eyes pressed. The gun rattled in his hand, a wild excitement sparkling in the pits of his pupils.
“Five, counting myself.”
“Tell your friends to come out where I can see them.”
Connor turned around and saw no one. Not only had his new acquaintances bailed, but they left no sign that they’d ever been there in the first place. This is just great. Don’t tell me they can turn invisible, too.
“Um, guys?” he called out to the aliens, his voice quivering. With the way his luck was going, he wouldn’t have been surprised if they were already well beyond the reach of his voice. “It’s all right. You can come out now.”
“Are you certain?” Lenyx asked, his voice projecting from some unknown location.
“They’re not going to shoot,” Kazi said, his location also obscured. “Even if they did—”
“Hush, Kazi,” Lenyx said. Instantly, he appeared at the edge of the brush, having leapt nearly twenty feet downward from a branch above. Connor jumped, startled. So did the soldiers. One by one, the aliens descended from the trees.
“That’s a neat trick,” Dark Eyes said. “Are there more of you up there?”
His gaze shifted from branch to branch, his gun following the path of his stare. Connor looked up, too, but in the darkness, it was impossible to tell if anyone or anything was up there.
&nb
sp; Apparently satisfied by his futile tree canvasing, the pistol-toting soldier pulled a portable radio from his side. He clicked the button on its side and brought the speaker toward his mouth. “Sir, you’d better get over here. We have a situation.”
What does that mean? Could he be any more vague? When I tell my sister I have a situation, it’s usually to let her know it’s time for her to change my nephew’s diaper because I sure as hell am not doing it. Connor laughed quietly to himself. Maybe the soldier shit his pants when Lenyx jumped out of the tree. Maybe he will if he ever realizes they aren’t human. I mean, it’s dark, sure. But how can he not have noticed their ears or noses yet? And those teeth?
“Location?” a grumpy man asked over the radio.
“We’re approximately a quarter mile north of the object.” Dark Eyes scanned the group. “We have visitors.”
What an appropriate term.
“Be right there,” said the voice in the box.
The soldier holstered his radio. He did not holster his gun, but instead kept it pointed at Connor, who kept still and silent. The aliens did the same. They waited.
The sound of tires spinning through sand grew louder. A moment later, giant fog lights bore down on them. A well-groomed, strong and sturdy-looking soldier exited the passenger side of a jacked-up Jeep and approached. He had “officer” written all over him. His weapon remained holstered, unlike those of his gung-ho subordinates. The driver also exited the Jeep, but he left it running and remained beside it.
“At ease,” the officer commanded his men. They lowered their weapons but kept them in hand. The officer approached Connor. “I am Lieutenant Jonathan Westfield of the United States Army. You individuals are trespassing on land presently under my command. What business do you have here? State your purpose, and be quick about it.”
“Good evening, Lieutenant,” Connor said, trying to sound likable. “My name is Connor Gaudreau. I teach geology at Granite State College. I was asked to check out the site by—”