The Deadliest Earthling

by Gibson Morales

He nodded and left.

  Sarah’s guard walked her to the mayor’s residency. She found Samir sitting at one of the tables, sipping steaming tea. A few lamps burned along the perimeter, a din of insects buzzing and hissing and chirping the night away.

  Knowing what she knew, she couldn’t keep it to herself. If for whatever reason Samir didn’t release them onto the train, they still needed to survive.

  Sarah ran a hand through her hair, pushing out the dirt and leaves from the ravine.

  “Samir…” she managed.

  “Please sit.”

  She did and explained all that Zatra had told her. Thinking about Zatra’s words made her squirm, hopelessness grasping at her from every angle. But the words came out, anyway. Samir stopped to clarify here and there, concern etched across his face. He didn’t sip his tea once throughout her telling. When she finished, he picked up the cup and threw it into the grass. The shattering quickened her pulse, but Sarah only stared at him dully.

  “My apologies,” Samir said. “Please get yourself some sleep. I may have a request for you in the morning.”

  She suspected he meant more translating. He stormed off into his residency before she could even think to ask him about the fate of those in the infirmary. Best that she didn’t, anyway. It probably would’ve turned out badly.

  Chapter 9

  Sarah woke up stiff, muscles sore from carrying in Zatra. Her head throbbed too. She groaned at the bright light spilling onto her face and the recruits talking. A slow, morning talk.

  That didn’t make sense, though. She rubbed her eyes, sat up, and saw the infirmary stirring. The recruits wore bandages, but they weren’t nearly as bloody as the day before. Their faces were only slightly inflamed. As bad as a sunburn. Some were playing cards; others were talking and munching on plates of rice and yogurt. The only female recruit, a redhead named Katherine, was sobbing softly.

  A palpable gloom hung in the room, but it was a big improvement over the dire, sickening feeling of the day before. Everyone was alive. Of course, they would’ve known about New Bagram’s fate by now, so they couldn’t celebrate. Not the way she wanted to. Because the fact that they talked and ate meant that Samir ordered the doctors to heal them. Tonight, she thought. Tonight they would be able to move to somewhere safer.

  She walked over to Krem.

  “How did you sleep?” she asked.

  His face brightened. “Better than before. My ankle’s feeling good too. Guess I didn’t twist it too badly.”

  She couldn’t help herself. Leaning in, she whispered, “Yesterday, the mayor said a train would—”

  “Oh yeah, I heard,” Krem said. “They told us earlier. We get to leave.”

  They shared a smile.

  “We can go see Mom,” Sarah said. Only she couldn’t find the right enthusiasm. Zatra’s revelations marred the possibility that they could leave safely.

  “What’s wrong?” Krem said.

  Sarah’s words caught in her throat. They didn’t know about Zatra’s warning yet. She couldn’t break the news. It might lead to a panic. Instead, she addressed the other lingering concern.

  “You have to come with me,” she said. “I know you want to fight the Anunnaki, but…”

  Krem scratched his head. “I can’t abandon them. Besides, we owe the Anunnaki payback.”

  “Krem.” She couldn’t fight off the pleading in her voice.

  “I didn’t make the same promise to Mom that you did,” he said. Her dismay must’ve been obvious, because he massaged his wrist guiltily. “Let’s not think about it now, anyway.”

  She nodded, but the room seemed dimmer with his decision. She understood his loyalties and his wanting revenge. But still, the idea that she’d never see him again past a certain point… That point being as early as late tonight.

  It felt worse than if he’d simply left after the Feast of Endeavors. That, at least, she would’ve forced herself to accept. But now that he had the option not to fight, she couldn’t bring herself to accept losing him in a new way.

  Sweeping her gaze across the room, she saw Hamiad resting. She wondered if he would want to hear what Zatra said. At that, Samir’s words came to her. I may have a request for you in the morning.

  “I’ll be back, okay?” she said, hugging him. “I have some work to do.”

  “Work?”

  “Ask Hamiad,” she said.

  She walked to the door, catching a curious glance from Ibdan.

  “Did Samir want to see me?” she asked a guard wearing a bright yellow turban with a red feather.

  “Yes. Follow me.”

  Out they went to the hotel estate. To the same room with Zatra. There were a few armed men, but no one else.

  “I thought Samir wanted me?”

  The yellow-turbaned man fished a letter out of his front pocket. “Here.”

  Dear Sarah,

  Please speak to Zatra, and ask her for any information about the Anunnaki’s plans to attack us. Does she have any guesses at all? Are the Anunnaki monitoring Utbashi already? What kind of weapons would they use?

  I asked the doctor to treat the recruits with healing water early this morning (but if anyone asks, it was simply a good night’s rest). They should all be ready for the train.

  Thank you,

  Samir

  A couple of papers and pencils sat on the dresser. Sarah pocketed the letter and pulled up a seat for herself by the bed. Zatra appeared to be sleeping.

  “Would you like breakfast?” the yellow-turbaned man asked.

  “Yes.”

  He nodded and left her with Zatra and the three guards. One stared out the window. The other two sat against the wall, playing cards. They barely even noticed her there.

  Breaking the general silence with her Nebirian would be awkward. She nudged Zatra on the shoulder and quietly asked, Are you awake?

  Zatra peered at her. You carried out my message?

  Sarah nodded, taking out the letter. I have more to ask.

  Zatra gave little in the way of suggestions when it came to the timing of an attack on the city. But she believed the Ascendi probably already monitored the city with aerial drones. As for weapons, they would probably stick with ground troops.

  This was the first point of contention. Would they actually attack us outright?

  I don’t know if they will. But the Ascendi already ordered the destruction of one city.

  New Bagram. I lived there, Sarah brought herself to say.

  I’m sorry.

  Sarah shook her head. Please, keep going.

  Normally, we would not massacre cities. But the Ascendi Major has gone around the Sinsers’ rules. As I said, he is planning a coup. He claims he will bring about a new world order. One where humans can be murdered freely. And he gained much support by destroying your city. Many Anunnaki view that as a form of justice. He may consider trying that approach on this city. Perhaps not as brutally. The firestorm angered the Sinsers, but he convinced them it would not happen again. I believe he will work more diplomatically until he goes through with his coup. There is still oversight from the Sinsers.

  Weakness racked her body, muscles numb and frail. The Ascendi ordered the destruction of New Bagram to gain followers. How could an individual like that exist? How could the other Anunnaki go along with it? They really were sick creatures, weren’t they?

  Her stepdad told her stories about Anunnaki abducting people at night and probing them. Torturing them with metallic instruments essentially. She’d never really believed that could happen, though.

  But Zatra hadn’t bought into it. She hadn’t gone along with the Ascendi’s new world order.

  If he is going to betray the Sinsers, why don’t you warn them? Sarah asked. She knew the Anunnaki had something called the World Tree. A network of communication methods.

  As I said, our communications are restricted. And I had to disable mine entirely. I am locked out. Otherwise he could trace my location.

  “Breakfast,” the yell
ow-turbaned guard said, entering with a silver tray hosting a plate of spiced potatoes, white-colored pancakes, and yogurt with a glass of water.

  He placed the tray on the dresser and saw the blank papers.

  “Has the Anunnaki refused to answer you?” he said, troubled.

  “Oh no,” Sarah said. She’d completely forgotten to copy down the answers. “No. She’s cooperating.”

  The man nodded, but she could tell he didn’t quite believe her. He exchanged some words with the other guards in Hindi and left. She sighed and stared at the tray, but hunger escaped her. Maybe her body hadn’t yet adjusted to the humidity. That wasn’t it at all, though. She should be starving since she hadn’t eaten in hours. Still, the notion that an Anunnaki so twisted as the Ascendi existed filled her with an unshakable discomfort.

  Do you have anyone left? Zatra asked, reaching a hand to hers gently. Any family?

  My brother. He’s here with me. And my mom. She’s somewhere else.

  Safe?

  Sarah nodded.

  I would help you if I could. Take you to your mother with a portal. But I can no longer access it.

  Sarah let her head fall back and stared at the ceiling fan, a mosquito dancing beside it.

  She picked up the pencil and began scribbling what she remembered of Zatra’s warning. And then she paused. Not because she’d forgotten. Rather, her motivation escaped her. If the Ascendi was monitoring Utbashi, it would see her and the recruits leave tonight. And what was to stop the Anunnaki from hunting them down? On that train or wherever they went.

  But then why would the Anunnaki care about them? She was only being paranoid.

  Zatra yanked her hand back, face crossed in pain. The scratches on her head were duller than before, but Sarah wondered if the cuts on her stomach had healed. She doubted Samir had given her healing water.

  Tell me of your mother, Zatra said delicately.

  Sarah, still in dismay, stared at the greenery out the window. She was tolerant, loving, strong. She could handle a lot.

  She’d said the words without really thinking about it. But as she spoke, one memory above all else welled up.

  A year after marrying Tobias, her mom resumed duties traveling to see New Bagram’s benefactors. Their neighbors had agreed to keep a close watch on Sarah, Krem, and Tobias. In the weeks of her absence, he started assigning them chores. Cleaning, cooking, laundry. Once when Sarah was sweeping the kitchen floor, her stepdad grabbed the trash, though. Normally, she or Krem took it to the local dumpster.

  She crept around the corner and saw Tobias stashing a painting inside their trash. One of her dad. Her mom had left it in their closet.

  Tobias was throwing it away behind her mother’s back. She hated him in that moment, but she wasn’t about to snap at him. He’d as much as tell her that when it was her house, she could choose any rules she liked.

  The day her mom returned, she couldn’t help confessing what happened. Once she and her mom were alone in her room, of course. Tobias was locked in his study, but she remembered that sad, regretful way her mom glanced at the door as if he might enter at any moment.

  “I figured he would toss it out,” her mom said.

  “But why did you let him?” Sarah asked, and lowered her voice. “Why do you put up with him?”

  Her mom moved closer, smelling of exotic perfume, her face still a shade more tanned from the recent trek. Dirt-stained patches on her blue traveling hijab and abaya cloak. Somehow she still exuded elegance.

  “Sometimes life doesn’t always hand us easy situations,” she said, smoothing back her daughter’s hair. “Think about when you got a paper cut a few months ago. What happened the next time?”

  “I was more careful around the paper.”

  “And your finger was tougher. Sometimes life tests us early on to build a thicker skin for later. When I was young, I grew up with everything I wanted. We lived in a big house, our maid cooked us delicious meals, and we took trips to other countries and stayed in beautiful resorts. I lived a wonderful childhood. But then the Shroud War started, and I lost all of that. I didn’t know how to handle hunger or pain or any real hardship. Maybe when you’re older, you’ll see that your childhood made you a stronger person.”

  Sarah wasn’t even ten, but she thought she understood that. Her mother portrayed the problems in her life as experiences that might actually be helpful. She knew how to steer the worst circumstances in a positive direction. How to frame them in just the right way, almost like she was painting a picture out of real life.

  She seems like a good woman, Zatra said appreciatively, patting her hand. You are fortunate to have known her so recently. I haven’t seen my mother in four thousand years.

  And Sarah noticed the oval shape of her face again, reminiscent of her mother’s. Hope surged in her. She felt like she was seeing a part of her mother here, in the form of Zatra. And if she had stumbled upon a little piece of her here, surely she could find the rest of her once they left Utbashi.

  Sarah finished writing the notes on Zatra’s testimony and informed the guards. One left.

  Sarah’s eyes fell to Zatra. She was tapping her fingers to the designator around her left wrist.

  What are you doing? Sarah asked.

  There may be a way to stop him, Zatra said.

  The Ascendi? Sarah asked.

  Yes. If I can configure my designator, I may have evidence to expose his plans. All I will have to do is turn this over to Anunnaki who aren’t on his side.

  She watched Zatra return to tinkering with her designator and started on breakfast. If Zatra was right, this could be big. But somehow, the notion didn’t evoke much excitement in her. I’ll wait and see what Zatra can do.

  She finished her meal, with the minutes piling when the yellow-turbaned, red-feathered man rushed in, eyes worn with terror. His sweating didn’t say much, given the humidity, but he looked shaken.

  “Samir invites you to a late breakfast with him,” the man said. He sounded desperate. As if her rejecting the invitation would kill him.

  “Yes, okay,” she said. “Does he want these?”

  She shook the papers.

  “Later,” the yellow-turbaned guard stammered.

  Even his gait resembled that of a moderately ill person.

  When they reached Samir’s residency, she knew it had changed from the day before. As they walked up the steps, it occurred to her that there was utter silence compared to the talking and music she remembered.

  “Okay, what’s—” wrong? she meant to ask. But at that moment the guard showed her in through the dining room door.

  “Here is my wonderful niece now,” Samir said from the table, a slight tremor to his voice.

  She raised an eyebrow in puzzlement. But upon entering the dining room, she saw whom he was addressing. Her stomach bottomed out at the sight of an Anunnaki wearing a typical metallic body suit, eyes a foggy grey. It was seated with four other Anunnaki on one side of the dining room table.

  “And, Sarah, this is the Ascendi Major.”

  Chapter 10

  “Good to meet you,” the Ascendi Major said complacently.

  She felt the jump in her step, like she was in her room listening to Tobias having a flashback.

  Sarah’s mind raced. The one Zatra warned her about, and here he was sitting at the same table. How badly shaken did she look? But she didn’t dare check herself in the mirror on the wall. Besides, none of Samir’s advisors or councilmen or whomever seemed happy either. They each sipped an alcoholic beverage of some kind. She was standing directly opposite the Ascendi and his four Anunnaki subordinates. The tension in the room couldn’t be thicker.

  Zatra said the Ascendi sought something in this city. That’s what this had to be about.

  A shiver went through her when she imagined the Ascendi ordering the firestorm.

  The door closed behind her. Still, she remained standing at the far end of the table.

  “Please sit,” the Ascendi Major said
, gesturing to the empty seat beside Samir. It was clearly meant as a last-minute addition. There was no table space in front of her. Almost as if Samir simply meant for her to observe.

  Sarah nodded meekly and obeyed the Ascendi. It disturbed her how he gave the invitation to join them as if this were his house, she the unwelcomed one.

  Immediately, she searched for something to do with her hands. Samir and his advisors could drink, but she couldn’t even hide her hands under the table. She glanced at the beautiful jeweled chandelier hung from the ceiling, at the fireplace, and at paintings of heavy-set women in gallant white dresses decorating the walls. But looking around too much risked catching the gaze of an Anunnaki. So she set her gaze on the surface of the elegant twenty-foot table complete with flower vases, matching silverware, candles, and bowls of fruit.

  “My niece is honored to be here, I am sure,” Samir said, patting her on the shoulder.

  Sarah got the message. “Yes, very honored,” she said. Why was she here at all? Samir wouldn’t have dragged her to this for fun.

  The Ascendi ignored her and focused his opaque grey eyes on Samir. “You did a good job arranging things as I requested. I appreciate it.”

  “Thank you,” Samir murmured, and his voice lightened. “Unfortunately, we could not find you any manna.”

  He and a couple of his councilmen gave a short-lived laugh.

  “No, I didn’t expect you would,” the Ascendi said. One of the other Anunnaki placed a metal saucer on the table. With a click, the top retracted to reveal a golden liquid. One by one, the Ascendi and the others poured some into their glass cups and passed it down the table.

  “You are welcome to our food when it arrives,” Samir said.

  The Ascendi shook his head. “We wouldn’t live nearly so long if we succumbed to the junk food this planet produces.”

  He indulged in a sip of his manna. The Anunnaki, she was surprised to find, smelled like nothing, which left the scent of honey and wine exuding from their drinks. That and the sweat from the humans in the room. The Anunnaki didn’t sweat. They only ever shed, but that wasn’t the case right now.