People of the Sun

by Jason Parent

  “Are the others with you?” Jonathan asked.

  “No, I’m alone,” Kazi replied.

  “Negative. It’s just the one,” Connor heard Jonathan say over his portable radio. “He says he wants to surrender.”

  After a moment spent with Jonathan listening to some unknown voice over a radio, he finally spoke again, saying only, “Yes, sir.”

  Then, Jonathan addressed his troops. “All right, men,” he said. “We’re taking them in.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Is this necessary?” Kazi asked as a soldier clasped a chain around his bare leg. The cold, heavy metal clasp came with a strong dose of humility. He was nobody’s dog. Yet, they dared to treat him like one. They have no idea just how much of an animal I can be.

  He glared down at the soldier. His hands were trembling, hesitant to go anywhere near Kazi’s skin despite wearing protective gloves. Kazi purposely wiggled his leg to antagonize the human. Clearly shaken, the soldier dropped the clasp, and it slid down Kazi’s shin to his ankle, not yet locked. He picked it up to try again, this time with as much haste as possible.

  Kazi could hear the clasp lock in place. “Do you think this will hold me?” he asked, not expecting a response. He snarled, leaning forward to whisper into the human’s ear. “I’ll kill you for that.”

  The soldier backed away, smiling. With Kazi bound, he had found his confidence. “Your threats mean nothing now that you’ve got those chains on.”

  Kazi’s head tilted back, and he laughed loudly. The soldier shied away from him. When he lowered his chin, Kazi’s mirth had vanished, replaced by an icy stare. No one flinched, the tension weighing heavy like a fog. He’s smart enough to be afraid.

  Kazi lunged at the soldier with claws out. The soldier fell backward onto his ass. Kazi’s laughter bellowed through his cell, bouncing off the walls. He stood over the soldier, a position of supremacy that suited him nicely.

  Six soldiers hurried into the room, rushing to their cornered comrade’s aid. They filled his fiberglass cell, all empty and white, with their human stench and their useless toy guns that made them feel powerful. Had they breached his quarantine to eliminate a threat or to exact revenge? Kazi didn’t care. But the time had not yet come to eliminate his captors.

  “Only a joke,” Kazi said, shrugging. He read the insignia above the soldier’s breast pocket. “Perkins,” he said aloud. It was a name he wished to remember.

  To ensure he did, Kazi grabbed at the fabric, ripping the insignia and a large portion of Perkins’ shirt off his chest. He glared down at Perkins like a predator who had ensnared his prey and was ready to savor the killing blow. As much as he wanted to make the kill, he would have to wait. Kazi had a more pressing concern.

  “This is so I remember who wronged me,” he said quietly to Perkins, clenching the torn fabric as if it were a prized memento. Perkins regained his feet and retreated behind the armed responders. Once he was safely outside the cell, the other soldiers followed.

  Kazi watched as the door closed behind the last exiting human. He listened as a handful of locks clicked into place, one right after the other. Again, he was left alone with nothing to accompany him except his thoughts of revenge.

  He studied the length of chain that anchored him to a large bolt in the floor at the cell’s center. Each link seemed to be solid steel a half-inch thick. Kazi couldn’t find a weak link among them. He dropped the chain onto the ground, disgusted.

  Can I teleport while chained to the floor? For the moment, Kazi had no need for an answer, and frankly, he didn’t care for one. He was exactly where he wanted to be.

  “I’ve given you everything!” he shouted at the walls. He knew they were watching. The one-way mirrors surrounding him prevented Kazi from observing those who observed him, but it didn’t prevent him from sensing them. He could hear their thoughts as clearly as if they were his own.

  “You won’t be able to study him without me,” Kazi said to the unseen eyes. His arrogance made him proud, filled him with a sense of importance. He was so much better than his captors. He longed for the chance to prove it. “By now, his insides have deteriorated beyond the point of recognition. You don’t even know what you’re looking at in the first place. You won’t be able to penetrate his skin. Your examination of his anatomy is useless without my guidance.

  “You need me.” The notion struck Kazi as hilarious. They really were hopeless without him. Again, his laughter reverberated off his cell walls. Though he remained trapped by humans, caged like an animal in a soulless prison, he filled with confidence. Even then, bound by a chain he lacked the means to break, Kazi felt in control. A power flowed through him like nothing he’d felt before. It untamed him, corrupted him. He wanted to unleash it, to show the humans who truly dominated whom. His captors would learn soon enough.

  ●●●

  Tryst awoke to the sound of birds tweeting, whistling a sweet melody she dreamed was meant solely for her. A blue jay fluttered its wings before taking flight, swooping from its evergreen perch. An owl hooted from some hidden roost, likely bedding down with the rising of the sun. Woodpeckers bored holes into the brittle barks of green ashes and white walnut trees, their beaks put to task better than any man-made jackhammer. Everywhere sounds of a thriving planet so unlike the one she had lost.

  Around the cabin, nature worked at its finest, absent the toiling of human industry—teeming with the miracles of Earth that she felt mankind took for granted. Morning dew soaked the railing of the decayed wooden porch on which Tryst stood. Though worn and weathered, it held her weight without straining. Neither the cabin nor its accoutrements had withstood the harrowing effects of abandonment and time. Orb-weaver spiders, made brave by the absence of significantly fewer-legged inhabitants, claimed corners and spaces with ornate webbed patterns that Tryst found remarkable. She inspected their intricate details for hours as though she were a jeweler appraising diamonds. And to her, each web was far more valuable.

  The creatures themselves also captivated Tryst’s attention. As they floated their silken fabric on the wind to distant surfaces or travelled like ballerinas across their tightrope draglines, the spiders went about their business with grace and dignity. By their very existence—strong, self-sufficient and lacking false idols or unfounded principles—they were Earth’s true intelligent life. Where humans saw vileness, Tryst saw wisdom.

  She rested her wrists across the railing, unconcerned by the water her skin captured. A few drops of dew defied gravity, swirling up her arms, then disappearing beneath her skin. She noticed, but was not alarmed by, the contradiction of her flesh. Tryst couldn’t understand how her skin seemed impenetrable, capable of withstanding puncture from all sorts of sharp objects, yet water always found a way through it.

  But water, at least, didn’t seem to cause her harm. Even if it killed her, so be it. Tryst was content to spend the rest of her days in that cabin, shirking her responsibilities for a chance at a new life. The burden of her people’s fate was shedding from her like skin from a snake. She needed a new life. The old one had taken its toll. She had lost too much.

  What am I thinking? I can’t just toss aside our mission, our principles, everything I once knew. The thought surprised Tryst. On Symoria, things had been simpler. She had been a worker bee hustling about for the benefit of the colony. But since she had awoken from her sleep, the veil to human emotion and ideology lifted, not a day passed where she didn’t consider things in a new, human way.

  As the sun rose higher into the sky, illuminating the world without while scorching the world within, Tryst basked in its yellow rays. The morning sun cast its light on the lake before her, this one filled with water and teeming with the building blocks of life.

  Between her and the lake, a clearing of tall, lush grass rested, hiding a vibrant world between its blades. Something rustled the brush at the edge of the clearing, then stepped into the open. A black bear wandered onto the plain, its nose poking the air as it followed an invisib
le scent. It huffed and sniffed, then rolled onto its back, scratching itself against the earth like a playful dog.

  Tryst gasped with delight at the scene. The bear heard her and rose with a grunt. They shared a gaze that lasted only a moment, the animal’s eyes reflecting its approval of her right to be there. Then it looked away, its attention turning back to whatever scent it had followed into the clearing. After a few more audible sniffs, it wandered across the plain and into the woods.

  Tryst moaned desirously as two arms emerged around her. She could never get enough of the way Lenyx held her. It was as though she belonged there, her body interlocking with his like matching pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

  But the arms did not belong to Lenyx. Momentarily forgetting herself, Tryst had allowed her desires to subdue her logic. She scolded herself silently, ashamed by her mistake. The dead are dead. Life is for the living.

  Tryst spun in the embrace of her substitute mate. Milliken hung over her, ready to perform her every command. Strong and dutiful, he awaited his instructions.

  “Did you see it?” she asked.

  “See what?”

  “The bear. It was beautiful.”

  “No,” Milliken said. “I missed it.”

  Tryst frowned. Milliken was all that remained between her and emptiness. He was exactly who he was supposed to be, a perfect soldier. But Tryst needed more. She needed a partner, even though she couldn’t understand how or when such a need spawned within her.

  Trying to lighten her own mood, Tryst playfully slapped Milliken on the chest. A smile breached her lips. “It kind of looked like a hairy version of you,” she said.

  “Is that so?” he asked, missing the joke.

  Tryst stroked her chin. “We should stay here,” she said. “Live here, I mean.” She hopped once as she made her declaration, as if doing so would emphasize the point.

  “Are you asking my opinion?” Milliken asked. “I will follow your lead. But we do have to find suitable nourishment at some point. We can’t hide in this cabin forever.”

  “Why not? It’s so quiet, there probably isn’t a human for miles. No unwanted thoughts forcing their way into my memory banks. Quebec is so beautiful, too—just like New Hampshire, except better, wilder and quieter. Connor’s memories were correct. This place is perfect.”

  “What about Kazi? We should figure out a way to get a message to him to let him know our location.”

  “Don’t worry about Kazi,” Tryst said, offended. She shook her head. Why would he even think to mention that traitor’s name as if he were still part of the team? “He left us. When he wants to come crawling and sniveling back, I’m sure he’ll find us. We’ll deal with his betrayal then.”

  “Fine, but again,” Milliken said, “we will need to eat sooner or later.”

  “Do we?” she asked. “Have you felt a need?”

  Milliken seemed puzzled by the question. “No,” he said as if his answer surprised him. “Now that I think about it, I don’t crave anything.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Tryst said, pushing away from him. “We will stay here until we can’t stay here any longer.”

  “You’re really that fond of this place?”

  Tryst nodded. “Now,” she said, wetting her lips. She grabbed Milliken’s hand and led him into the cabin, for once living in the present without worrying for the future.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Kazi sensed them coming. Eight days had passed with him chained to that floor. Eight days he had been watched as though he starred on some lame reality television program. The humans found him despicable, and he knew it. No one spoke to him. No one offered him food, water or even a place to sleep. It didn’t matter. He would have shunned their kindness anyway.

  His solitude his only comfort, Kazi’s boredom twisted his mind up in knots, unraveling his sanity. Even Kazi, who had a tremendous sense of self-worth, didn’t love himself enough to be alone for the entirety of existence. If nothing more, he desired pawns or playthings. The humans would suffice. They were disposable, so when one lost his usefulness, plenty were available to take his place.

  After eight days, though, he favored his freedom. He began to doubt even his best-laid plans, to question his willful surrender. Then, they came for him. At last, they realized his worth.

  The researchers who confined him were comprised of NASA’s most renowned physicists and engineers, joined by top-tier biologists and medical doctors from around the globe. Through the thoughts of those foolish enough to approach his cell, Kazi deciphered who was present within the facility, a military base disguised as a business complex in the heart of Washington, D.C. More important, he learned why they were there.

  A veterinarian was on hand, just in case. Kazi found humor in the insult. The government had even brought in a bat expert for appearance’s sake—his appearance’s sake. All were sent to examine Lenyx. None had been able to find a weakness in Lenyx’s hide. No one could break through the dead alien’s skin, not with scalpels, needles or any of the traditional devices of the medical profession. Once a bone saw dulled before making a dent, they tried the untraditional. A table saw couldn’t even scratch the surface.

  The brain trust hadn’t been without any successes. They managed to pry open Lenyx’s mouth and insert a scope down his throat. The awful stench that came out when they did resembled hot garbage stewing in a dumpster. The doctors explored all they could internally, but Lenyx’s insides had succumbed to decomposition. Kazi found great amusement in one human’s description of the process, that it was like wading through pumpkin innards. But unlike a pumpkin, Lenyx couldn’t be carved.

  With all the PhDs that examined Lenyx, not one of Earth’s brightest could determine any notable fact about the alien’s biological composition beyond the obvious: bisymmetrical, bipedal, similar bone and muscular structure to humans, as far as the naked eye could tell. And with respect to Lenyx, they were smart enough to know they were examining a dead alien.

  Perhaps more significant, the scientists came up short in their quest for chinks in the corpse’s armor. They needed the assistance of a live specimen. They needed Kazi.

  Some scientists were slower to warm to the idea than others. By the eighth day, a majority favored approaching Kazi. But the soldiers, not the doctors, were in charge. Still, he was sure the humans would be coming to him soon. They would lie to him, offer him all sorts of false promises to ensure his cooperation. Kazi knew they’d never let him go. The humans would use Kazi to learn as much as they could, and when they learned how to destroy him, they’d take their best shot at it.

  Kazi knew all this, yet he was anxious to help the humans. It took every ounce of patience he had in him to let them come to that realization on their own. He and the scientists had the same goal; they both wanted to know how to kill Symorians. But unlike the humans, Kazi didn’t feel like sharing that information.

  He paced in his cell, waiting sullenly for his company to arrive. His chain slid across the floor. With each step he took, the metal links rattled against the floor. Just Kazi and that chain occupied the cell; it was as empty as he’d become, as the journey to this hateful planet had made him. But it would not be his coffin.

  Kazi scanned the memories of the dim-witted guards posted outside his cell to pass the time. They had lived such trivial, meaningless existences. He felt an obligation to relieve them of their dismally human condition. He found solace only in his thoughts, thoughts of frustration, neglect and retribution. But above all, he sought redemption, but not in the eyes of others; Kazi sought to take his rightful place at the head of the herd, to prove to himself it was where he belonged.

  Kazi noticed the heavy, methodic footsteps before he sensed the human’s presence. A nobody named Ted approached, a mid-level NASA type who wanted nothing to do with the task assigned to him. Now, Kazi felt slighted. They don’t even consider me important enough for one with rank among them?

  Still, this Ted feared Kazi, and Kazi appreciated it. Finally, a modicum
of respect.

  His ears perked up, listening to the hushed conversation happening outside his cell door. He grinned zealously for the invitation he knew to be coming. One of the guards swiped his ID badge like a credit card through a small rectangular box affixed beside the door. Kazi listened to the code numbers spoken within the guard’s head as he punched them into the machine. The door jerked as if someone had slammed against it, a fairly dramatic locking system coming undone. It hung heavily, like the door to a bank vault. Finally, it opened.

  Kazi tapped his long, curved fingernails against his thigh. “Welcome,” he said, peacefully inviting Ted into the room. Ted, who looked as timid as a cat held over water, remained outside.

  “Come,” Kazi said more assertively, but still smiling.

  Ted stepped hesitantly into the cell. He shuddered as the heavy door closed behind him, sealing him in with an alien whose intentions he couldn’t possibly know. Kazi reveled in his fright. But since he wanted to foster their relationship, he played nice with the human.

  “So,” Kazi said. “Has your team finally come to its senses? Do you finally understand that I mean you no harm?”

  “Good afternoon, Mr.—”

  “Kazi’s fine.”

  “I’ve come to offer you a deal.”

  “Oh yeah?” Kazi asked, feigning surprise. “What sort of deal?”

  “We would like to ask for your assistance examining…”

  Kazi glared intently at Ted as the latter fumbled for the correct words. When his patience ran out, Kazi moved the conversation along.

  “The dead alien you have lying on an examination table out there?” he asked. “Relax, human. I am your ally, though you refuse to see it. I’m more than willing to help you. But as you can see, I’m a little tied up right now.”