by Lisa Lace
Sabin sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “Sedated,” he murmured. “And not killed?”
Heather frowned and sat up herself. “Why would we have killed him?”
“That’s what we had to do when it happened to us,” Sabin said. “On my planet. When the madness took people. They often had weapons in their hands and murder in their eyes and there was no telling what would happen if we didn’t…”
“Kill them,” Heather murmured. She didn’t really know what to do with that, so she latched onto something easier. Well. Relatively. “On your planet,” she said. “So you’re really…” She remembered the conversation they’d had before, when they’d first met and she’d been patching up his wounds. She’d just assumed he was concussed or crazy then, but it all seemed so much more real.
Sabin nodded, looking up at her with those big gold eyes. “Yes.”
“And is this...is this your doing?” she wanted to know. “I mean, did this...whatever it is, this plague follow you?”
He sighed. “Technically we came at the same time. Will you let me explain?”
His eyes were so earnest, and Heather was struck by just how much she still trusted him. Even though everything she’d thought to be true was being turned on its head, she was still sure that Sabin didn’t mean her any harm. So she nodded, getting comfortable on the bed to listen to what he said to say.
Sabin looked relieved, and he closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to figure out where in the world to start. “I’m from a planet called Samis,” he said finally. “It’s nowhere near Earth, really, so you won’t have heard of it. My people are called the Samis Das, and we’re fighters. We protect our own as best we can and drive out anything that tries to harm us. We’re known for strength and communication, and we thrive on our dusty little planet, making the best of each day.”
“You’re an alien,” Heather said, wincing at the bluntness of it, but that was essentially what he was telling her.
He smiled and nodded, though, acknowledging that. “Yes. Although that term is completely relative. There are other races and clans out there, ones who look like you and me, ones who look reptilian, ones who have fur, and ones who have no skin at all. It just depends on where they’re from. But everyone is afraid of the Nine.”
“The Nine,” Heather murmured. “That’s what you were saying before. When we first met. Something about the Nine.”
“Yes,” he said again. “They are the ones causing the chaos on your planet. They’re the ones who caused it on my planet. They killed my mother, one of my closest friends, and caused us to have to kill countless others because they went mad. They spread sickness wherever they go and drive people to madness, warping their minds until they’re fueled only by rage and instinct. That’s what likely happened to your doctor to turn him against you.”
Heather swallowed hard. It was like something out of a movie, but the grief in Sabin’s eyes told her that it was all too real. “So how do you stop them?” she asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Sabin admitted. “I came here with them when they left my planet because I didn’t want them to do to another planet what they did to mine. But I don’t know if there’s a way to beat them. You have to understand. They are ancient and they haven’t been killed yet. They destroy almost everything and everyone they come across. No one in all that time has been able to figure out how to kill them.”
“So...so what are you saying?” she asked. “We’re just doomed?”
Sabin let out a breath. “No,” he said firmly. “I’m not going to let that happen. I’m not going to let them destroy this planet. Earth is one of the last places where they haven’t wrought havoc, and I’m going to try to keep it that way.”
“Is there...anything I can do?” Heather wanted to know. It seemed absurd that this was all on one person, that Sabin was the only one who could do this.
“Just be careful,” he said as he always did. “Don’t linger in the dark alone. Don’t spend too much time with those who are infected or anyone you don’t know well. The madness could strike anyone, really.”
“Well, that’s just great,” she said.
“I’ll figure this out,” he promised her, cupping her face in his hand. “I will.”
Chapter 12: In the Open
“I’ll figure this out,” he muttered to himself as he stood in the shower, hot water beating down on his back. “I have to.”
His hair was already plastered to his head, and the water ran in little rivers down his back and chest, pooling at his feet before it was washed away. Of course, figuring it out was going to depend heavily on whether or not he could even find one of the Nine.
It had been a long night once Heather had come home from work, shaking and scared. He’d known, instantly that there was something wrong and that it had something to do with the Nine.
Reluctantly he’d had sex with her first, even though it was a relief when she didn’t want it hard and punishing to take her mind off of it like Lilera had all those weeks ago. (Thinking about Lilera now was so strange; it was almost like his life on Samis had happened to a different person as he tried to figure out how not to fail another planet). And in the end it had made him feel a bit better about the conversation that they had to have.
When it had all come pouring out of her, Sabin had known that the time to tell her the truth was right then and there. When she’d reacted with less shock and anger than he’d been expecting, all he could feel was relief.
Heather meant something to him now, there was no way around that. Being driven to protect her made it all the more imperative that he figure something out.
Of course, talking about what had happened to his mother and to Lilera had opened those wounds again. He stood under the spray of the shower, letting the water wash away the hurt. Or trying to, anyway. He didn’t think things like that could ever really go away, and he sighed, tipping his head back and pushing his hair out of his face, sending water splashing over his back.
He’d showered before Heather had come home, but after what had just happened, he felt the need to be clean again. It gave him something to do, and a quiet place to think.
Heather was making dinner while he showered, claiming she needed to do something to keep her hands busy. He didn’t blame her. Sabin still remembered how awful he’d felt after he’d been attacked by someone he thought was a friend the first time. It was hard to shake.
When he was done here, he would join her in the kitchen and they would eat. He wondered if things were going to be different between them now and found himself hoping hard that they wouldn’t.
He understood that she’d learned something about him that might have changed her perception of him; but she was still the best thing on this planet as far as he was concerned, and he didn’t want to lose her.
When the water started to lose its heat, he sighed and stepped out of the shower, reaching for the towel to dry himself off. He dressed and made his way into the kitchen where Heather was stirring something around in a large frying pan.
The kitchen was filled with the sound of sizzling and the savory smell of meat and vegetables, and Sabin stepped closer to look over her shoulder at the medley of things she was cooking.
“What’s that?” he asked. Food on Earth wasn’t all that different from food on Samis. The meats and vegetables were different, but seemed to be made up of the same components. Samis didn’t have pizza, though, and Sabin was pretty sure he could eat that for every meal if he was allowed to.
“Stir fry,” she said. “It’s low maintenance, and my dad always made it whenever something big was going on that he needed to pay attention to. Usually some sports game.”
Sabin smiled and rested a hand at her waist carefully, leaning down to kiss her cheek. When she leaned into it instead of pulling away, he thought they might be alright.
They didn’t really speak again until Heather had dished up heaping plates of meat and vegetables in some kind of brown sauce that smelled amazin
g. Sabin hadn’t realized how hungry he was after the sex, and even before it, with all that had happened. He practically inhaled half his portion and then drank a good amount of the water in his glass.
When he came up for air, Heather was watching him, pushing her own food around on her plate with her fork.
“What is it?” he asked her, eyes flashing worry.
She smiled and shook her head. “Nothing. I was just...I was wondering what they’re like, I guess? The Nine, I mean? I feel like their name is said with a capital letter, which makes them sound like a big deal.”
Sabin licked sauce from his lips and sighed softly.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Heather assured him quickly.
“No,” he said. “It’s not a problem. It’s just not really pleasant dinner conversation.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t think that matters at this point.”
“Fair,” Sabin agreed. He let out a messy breath. “Well, I’ve only really seen them once. And I’m one of the few. They move in the darkness and hide in the shadows. They can kill you themselves, but for the most part they just hang in the background and let their victims do the work.”
“By making them crazy so people have to kill them.”
He inclined his head. “Yes. It works very well, let me tell you. Like I said before, the fear and distress of their victims is what feeds them. They take it from the air and from the way the blood seeps into the ground. And they’re ugly. I don’t just mean that they’re unattractive, either. They’re hideous, old and gnarled like a tree, but also they seem like they’re made out of the shadows themselves. They don’t really have faces, from what I’ve seen, but they have red eyes that glow in the darkness and a sort of mask thing over their faces with a serrated almost sort of blade where the nose should be.”
Heather set her fork down on the table and swallowed hard. “That sounds horrifying. Like something out of a nightmare.”
“It’s basically a nightmare to have to see them,” he said, looking down at his plate. “But maybe it’s worse to not see them. My people are warriors, like I said, but there was nothing we could do to fight the Nine. We just ended up fighting amongst ourselves. Until hundreds of us died.”
“I’m sorry,” Heather murmured, reaching across the table to rest her hand on his.
Sabin forced a smile. “It’s fine. I’m going to make sure they don’t do that here. Earth is much bigger than Samis, and I think the Nine are separated. They’re stronger together, but it still took them a long time to pick us off. They have to wait for their seeds of madness to sow, after all, and your kind not killing the mad ones instantly helps slow things down.”
“Well…” Heather said. “Not everyone would think to sedate them first. Some people shoot first and ask questions later normally, so there’s no telling what could happen here.”
“Either way,” Sabin replied.
Heather smiled at him warmly. “My hero.”
Her words made something warm course through him, and he wished that he was actually the kind of hero she deserved. Maybe he could be.
Later, when they were sitting together on the couch watching television, listening to the way the world was going to hell, Sabin felt the weight of this thing he’d undertaken.
People were missing and assumed dead, people were sick, people were hurting each other. Some were calling it terrorist action, some were insisting it was a fluke, and still others were saying that it was judgement from god.
Heather rolled her eyes at that. “Everything’s a judgement from god,” she muttered under her breath.
“There’s nothing holy about this, though,” Sabin replied. He understood a bit about how religion worked here on Earth and found it baffling.
“Better explanation than saying it’s aliens,” she teased, grinning. He laughed and pulled her closer.
The next morning, Heather went off to work as usual, and Sabin headed out for more searching. Now that she knew what was going on and had some idea of the danger, he was more determined to get out there and find them.
He still didn’t know where to start with looking for the Nine, but he had a hunch that the man he’d seen before knew more than he had been letting on.
Sabin wasn’t afraid of intimidating the information out of him if it came to that.
He headed back to the same building where he had found him before and marched right in, looking around. Finally he just decided to be direct about it.
“I know you’re here somewhere,” he said. “Come out. I need to talk to you.”
There was a shuffling in the corner, and then the man appeared. He looked as average as ever, and seemed to shrink into the dusty shadows of the place as Sabin looked at him.
“I’m going to ask you a question, and I want an honest answer,” he said, using his guard voice.
“Okay,” the man replied, cringing.
“You’re not from this planet, are you?”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just stood there looking meek and afraid, then he drew in a breath and shook his head. “No. I am not.”
Sabin let out the breath he’d been holding and folded his arms. “Then you know what’s happening here.”
The man nodded. “Yes. The same thing that happened to my people. And probably yours, as well. You are a Samis Das, are you not?”
“I am,” Sabin replied. “How did you know?”
“You have the bearing,” the man answered. “And the hair. There was a group of them in the Eastern part of the planet who looked like you, if I remember correctly.”
His mother’s people. Almost entirely wiped out by the Nine, though Sabin wasn’t going to tell this man that.
“That’s right,” he said instead. “I can’t tell what you are.”
The man shook his head. “You wouldn’t be able to,” he said. “My kind were wiped out before yours learned how to travel off planet. It is very likely that I am the last.”
Sabin inhaled sharply. There was a terrible stigma surrounding being the last of your kind. When something killed off every single other person in your clan or race and left you, it was a symbol that you were touched with something that wasn’t good and probably were the one responsible for bringing the misfortune onto the people in the first place. Ordinarily Sabin would have kept his distance from this man and whatever he brought with him. He thought he could sympathize with him somewhat, considering he didn’t know how many of his own people were left and there had to be some reason why he was the only one who had been spared their wrath in those ruins.
“My name is Ithmar,” he said, holding Sabin’s gaze with those brown eyes. “I came from Giron.”
The name was familiar, and Sabin remembered after a moment or two that he had learned about the doomed planet Giron when he was younger. The food and water had run out there and the people had all been killed.
“The Nine did that?” he asked.
Ithmar nodded. “They turned us on each other more quickly and anything I’ve ever seen and then when they’d had their fill, those of us who remained were left to try and pick up the pieces. It did not work. The anger and resentment was still there, and I took my chance and fled to Earth while they destroyed themselves.”
“Oh,” Sabin said, unsure of how to respond to that.
“Do you not want to call me a coward?” Ithmar asked. “You, a proud warrior of the Samis Das?”
“No,” he said, surprising himself. “I don’t. Maybe before I saw what the Nine can do, I might have thought you were a coward for running away, but now I know better. Sometimes fleeing is all you can do. And I’m no better. I came here instead of staying to help my people rebuild.”
“It is different, I think,” Ithmar replied. “You came here to do a good thing for the people of Earth.”
“I’m trying,” Sabin admitted. “But not knowing where they are isn’t helping matters. Do you know?”
Ithmar shook his head. “Honest, I
don’t. But...I will tell you a story about the Nine, if you want. Something I learned a long time ago when Giron was still thriving, long before you were born. Do you know how the Nine came to be?”
“No one knows that for sure,” Sabin said, frowning. “Or so I thought.”
“Their earliest victims know,” Ithmar corrected him.
“Earliest victims?” Sabin asked. “But you can’t be as old as the Nine. They’re supposed to be ancient, aren’t they?”
Ithmar inclined his head. “And so they are, but they weren’t always the creatures you know them to be now.”
His attention was hooked, and Sabin decided it was worth it to miss out on time looking for the Nine if it meant understanding them. “Tell me,” he said, settling himself right in the middle of the dusty floor.
“Did you know,” Ithmar began. “That stealing something from another being makes you ugly? It twists you into something dark and evil and you can never come back from that. I do not mean stealing, taking something physical, though that leaves its mark, as well. I mean something of someone’s essence. Their emotions, their soul.”
“Like their fear?” Sabin asked.
“Yes. Exactly like that. You see, the Nine were once a part of a vast civilization. They were almost formless as they went about their lives, and they all shared the same life force. It was a pure, clean energy that beat at the center of their planet, keeping them alive. But nothing can stay pure for long, especially when it is shared. They realized that if there were fewer of them, they wouldn’t have to share as much. So they began killing each other off. But instead of fixing the problem, it just made it worse. It was as if there was something about their number that kept the life force strong and as they killed their own, it died more and more. Eventually, only a few of them remained.”
“If they shared the same life force,” Sabin wanted to know. “Does that mean they didn’t need to eat or drink or anything like that? That they had no sickness?