by David Beers
From the air—a satellite view—the western coast still looked similar. At night, one could see that it wasn't exactly the same though, because of the raging fires. California clearly was accustomed to riots, but never like this. Businesses and homes burned all the way down the coast, and at night, the fires burned brighter than any lights left in the city—though the electricity was slowly failing across the state.
The further you moved east, whether by foot or air, the more things changed. The white strands looked like a vast snowfall, as if an ice age had descended upon America, while leaving the rest of the world to its normal climate.
The east coast had been heavily populated, from Florida to New England, huge numbers of people lived there. No longer. The strands reached out across the United States with such speed that most had no chance to escape. The hungry alien life simply gobbled them up. Houses draped with white wires, trees consumed for every bit of heat they could give. While the now dead President and everyone associated with him hid below ground, where the strands couldn't yet reach, the world above tried to survive. It tried, and for the most part, failed.
Some did make it out. As soon as they heard about the lava pouring down upon mass sections of the country, they fled. They ran north, south, and west—any direction but east. They poured across Mexican and Canadian borders, overwhelming the security in place. People died, some shot by foreign police, some trampled on by their countrymen as they all tried to escape the deathtrap of America.
The states still remaining untouched were overcome by desperate people. As the violence moved from Texas to California, people fled in massive numbers (not to mention those able to leave the East Coast). Shanty towns sprang up in every major city, and sewage overflowed into the streets. The rich escaped, of course, flying out in private planes and helicopters, not even bothering to pack. The threat of death, of complete overthrow, was much too real. They could buy new things elsewhere.
Colorful pods popped up across the country, and at night from that same aerial view, they looked truly beautiful. Each one glowed, and given that they grew over completely conquered cities, they had no other sources of light to compete with. Humanity's lights died and Bynum's were born.
Those underground, the elite of the elite, knew this of course. They saw the same things you now do, and they prepared the best they could. Ready to bring the crippling ice against the strands possessing their country.
The rest of the world prepared too, and the attack was near, but it seemed as if everyone had missed an important point.
The invasion wasn't coming; it was already here.
In America, daylight ruled. On the other side of the planet, darkness. No eyes focused on the Indian Ocean, as everyone looked at America for what came next. In fact, not one satellite from any country circled around any part of the world besides those that looked upon America.
So when the object broke through Earth's atmosphere, no one saw it, or the fire streaking behind it. The object exhibited a similarity to the ship that fell weeks before, the ship that caused so much turmoil across the globe. It was different though, because it wasn't a ship.
An alien fell from the sky, naked, alone, and unsure where she would arrive.
Helos fell at a rate far too fast to allow her to see anything. Blurs around her, mixed with the fire that burned across her aura. She knew she had arrived because the blackness of her earlier travel was over; she saw things now, colors, even if nothing else. She didn't know how far she traveled, or, truly, how any of it was possible.
Down she plummeted.
When she hit the ocean, the water simultaneously boiled and exploded around her, creating an immediate fifty foot wave. It spread out in a circle, pushing away from ground zero. Helos barely slowed, sinking deeper and deeper into the increasingly cold water with each passing second. She didn't know how far down she was going, only that she couldn't stop. The force that propelled her across the universe now propelled her into a seemingly endless ocean.
Things got darker and darker; the fire around her eventually extinguished.
Helos reached the bottom of the Indian Ocean.
17
Present Day
He knew his name must change, and he didn't feel any slight about it. His mother's husband had arrived, and what was he to do, tell her that he would keep his name? He and the Var's husband would possess the same name? No. He loved his mother and he wouldn't disrespect her in any fashion; he certainly would not disrespect her in regards to her husband. The woman was calling him Junior, which was fine for now, unless Morena decided he needed something else. His name concerned him little, not much more than a few passing thoughts.
He told the woman that she needed to quiet down about the threat, that she needed to give Var a bit of space. He said that because he certainly wouldn't have a human interrupting their reunion.
She was right, though, and the longer Junior remained on this Earth, the more he understood that. The other Bynums, the ones born and the ones being born, were advancing at a rapid pace, but Junior thought they would never reach his level of evolution. Perhaps what he saw changed him, or perhaps his aura being so close to the human picked up things that neither Morena nor the others could. Perhaps being around her at such a young age was changing his makeup.
Junior didn't know the answer to why, because too many possibilities existed. He did know that his change was true, however. He did know that the danger Rigley spoke about was real, and would become more real as minutes turned to hours. He thought that it would take time for them to reach Morena and this base; he hadn't been lying about that.
Still, humans reaching this place couldn't be a possibility. His mother couldn't be put in danger, no matter the cost. Without a daughter of her own, no other Var existed to carry on Bynimian. Morena must not be harmed; Junior understood that rule above all else. The rest came second, including her husband—though respect was due there, if at a lesser level.
Rigley showed him, both through her words and actions, that this world didn't breed peace. From what Junior understood, Earth bred violence, and rewarded those who conquered others. From plants all the way to this human form, those that could consume the most won. Their entire genetic makeup, every piece of this world, pushed them toward conquering. Junior never lived on Bynimian, but much of Morena's knowledge passed to him, and he saw the massive differences between the two societies.
These humans, they weren't all mass murderers, despite what their evolution shaped them to be.
It seemed that forming groups, and protecting their groups, allowed people to thrive—but anyone not in the group was considered an enemy.
And now, the group was the entire human race, and the outsiders?
Bynums. Junior and his kind were the enemy, the ones that needed to be consumed, needed to die. Something so normal to humans, nearly as natural as their breath.
Outsiders never existed on Bynimian. They had only one group—the species. So the thought of protecting, of needing to fight an other, didn't come up in their minds. War didn't exist.
That would have to change.
Starting now.
Junior (the name wasn't that bad really, even if human) would be the change that Bynimian needed. The job should have fallen to Briten, the first Briten, but his current body wouldn't allow it. Junior would carry the mantle. He would kill the humans for his Var, his mother.
And maybe Bynums needed to change. Maybe their inability to see themselves as conquerors lay at the base of Bynimian's destruction.
No more, he thought. We will conquer, as far as needed to make sure that our Var is safe.
Two hundred, maybe three, Bynums stood before Junior.
Their auras floated around them, sometimes touching others.
They weren't quite ready yet. But they would be. Soon. This would be the start of his military, nearly impossible to stop, and loyal only to the Var.
Junior didn't turn around as Briten approached him, fifty feet out from the hou
se. Neither said anything for a few minutes as they looked out on the group.
"I'm sorry," Junior said, finally.
"For what?"
"I can see some of the past, through our Var, and you used to be spectacular from what I can tell. I'm sorry that you have to inhabit that body." Junior didn't look over to him, not sure if he was speaking out of turn.
A few seconds passed before Briten spoke. "I thought life was war for much of my life, and then I thought life was love, and now … life is simply change. This is the change brought on me and so I have to move forward with it."
Junior didn't understand, but he wouldn't challenge the Var's husband. Life was Bynimian, a loyalty to one's species. Change and war, none of that mattered except in the context of one's brethren.
"What are you going to do?" Briten asked.
He knows, Junior thought. He can tell what this is, you staring at all them and all them staring back at you. This is what he was made for, that's how he sees it so clearly.
"I'm going to spread us throughout this planet."
"Morena kills to protect," Briten said. "Why are you going to do it?"
Was this about protection? Yes. All of it? No.
"There's a cruelty in you," Briten said. "I can feel it. That cruelty isn't in my wife, though I think it's in me. Or was in me, before I evolved to this."
"What's that mean?"
"Morena kills to protect. I think you're going to kill because … you're angry."
Junior turned his head and looked at the shorter human. He could see the red eyes staring ahead, the same red that had once been Briten's aura, the only physical hint to what he once was.
"What do I have to be angry about?"
"This world. It's not natural to you, and it won't be natural for any of them either. They'll find their anger, just as you have. They'll look at this place and the creatures wanting to kill them, and it will enrage them, because Bynums don't understand it. They can't. The very fact that they're forced into something their DNA doesn't allow for is going to turn them cruel."
Junior turned back to his military. Could he argue with him? Did Junior have a single rebuttal to what he just said?
No.
The assessment was completely accurate.
"What do I do? Can I change it? For myself or them?" He had been thinking forward, focused on protecting his mother, and in that thought, forgot how little he actually knew. And here was this being, saying things about Junior that he hadn't understood, only felt.
He came out here to look at his army, to think about what they would do to the species on their way to kill his mother. Anger. That's what he felt though he hadn't been able to name it. Anger at the whole situation.
But should he?
"Change it?" Briten asked.
"Yes. If this anger isn't Bynimian, then it shouldn't exist in me. If it doesn't exist in the Var, then we shouldn't carry it either."
Briten smiled and shook his head a bit.
"There's no changing it, not unless you can rebuild Bynimian. This is the future and Morena is the past. She'll accept it because it's the only option available."
"So what does that mean?"
"That you embrace it. The anger is going to make sure that what happened to Bynimian never happens to you all again. It'll make sure that your species is never extinct."
"He's calling himself Junior now," Briten said.
"What's it mean?"
"I think the human told him. I think it's what progeny with the same name of their parents call themselves on this planet."
“Junior …,” Morena said softly. "You're the first … What's he doing down there?"
"Thinking about what happens next."
Morena was quiet, standing on the porch next to Briten. They looked at Junior walking amongst the Bynums, their auras probably almost finished adapting to the world around them. Speaking came next. Then full functionality.
"What's he thinking then?" she said. Her aura rubbed Briten's back, petting something so different from what she knew, but familiar as well.
"How he's going to make sure that no harm comes to any of them, ever."
Morena nodded. She could feel it too. The change, the difference between herself and her children. Chilras was scared of Morena, of her tendency toward violence if necessary. Chilras wouldn't recognize the creatures before Morena now. They were her offspring, but they felt as much like Briten's as they did her own. Perhaps more so. What would the old Council member say?
Morena didn't want to consider it. Chilras would wear horror almost as a badge of honor—because she was better than this. Bynums were better than this. Yet Morena birthed all the ones before her, with more on the way.
"I'm a relic now, aren't I?"
Briten smiled. "I'm not sure I'd go that far, but they will move beyond you. They'll resemble my kind some, probably not completely, though."
"How far different are they, do you think?"
"I think they're exactly what you need, Morena. Because at some point, despite your determination, you may lose heart. I'm not sure that you could eradicate every last human. I'm not sure that you could conquer worlds, which is what you must do to ensure that your kind continues. Evolution kills all, if we allow it."
Exactly what I need. A hybrid between she and her husband, without any of his DNA even inserted into them.
"He'll kill them all?" she said.
"I think it's more than that, Morena. You will kill them because you have to. I think he'll kill them because he wants to."
"And so what have I created, a monster? Is that what this planet is full of? Is that what I want to populate worlds with?"
Briten was quiet for a few minutes, and Morena let the silence rule. She watched Junior walk among the rest of her children, watched his aura reach out from time to time and intertwine with theirs. He was becoming acquainted with them, and they him—when they began talking, they would know him just like he knew her.
"Morena," Briten said. "Unless you want them all to die, there isn't another option. There's no blame to cast around. This is the way things must be now, if you want to continue living, if you want them to continue living."
Morena watched Junior approach, not wanting to have this conversation. She knew that they must, though. She believed Rigley, that the humans were coming, and Morena was actually surprised they hadn't arrived yet. Briten told her this conversation was coming, if not in those exact words.
Junior walked up the porch stairs. Morena heard his footsteps from the living room. He had been out there for a while, each minute spent in deep study of the surrounding Bynums. Passing on information to them, taking the information they gave. When Briten left her—clearly understanding that she needed time to consider all of this—Morena went to the living room. She thought, not about the three humans in the house, not about Briten, and not really about Junior either.
She thought about what came next, if Briten was right. And he was, she didn't argue that point at all. She sensed it in Junior, and knew she would soon sense it in the rest of her offspring as well, as soon as they evolved far enough to express themselves.
Morena had been ready to go through with it, murdering this planet's inhabitants. She had already killed a number, and even if she didn't know the exact count—it was high. She knew more needed to die, many, many more. That had been on her though, no one else.
Now, Briten told her that she wouldn't be the one carrying this war banner. That the creatures she created would carry it for her, and gladly, without the pensive worry that troubled her mind since she landed here. Junior would be happy to kill these people. Happy. And no Bynum in the history of the universe had ever felt that way—not Morena, not Chilras, and no one in between.
Briten was right, though.
If she wanted anyone to live through this, or wanted any of her kind to live, then she had to release Junior.
He would be what Briten no longer could.
The doorknob turned and she listened as
he walked inside, closing the door behind him. He didn't pause but walked across the foyer and took a right into the living room where Morena sat. Only when Junior stood in front of Morena did he slow, stopping at the entrance. He bowed his head, looking at the floor.
"Var, do you have a moment?"
Morena didn't move, didn't change her aura from the spot it already occupied—a beautiful tapestry flowing out all around her, having been given free rein while her mind worried through her concerns.
"Yes," she said. Whatever happened here wouldn't be an easy decision for her, and she had no desire to make it easy on Junior, either.
"Thank you," he said, stepping through the entryway. He didn't look up, but kept his eyes lowered. "They're nearly ready."
"Yes," she said. "I saw you out there with them."
"Var, with your permission, it's time to move forward."
"And what does that mean?" Morena asked.
She watched Junior pause, watched fear in him for the first time. He knew what he was asking. Perhaps his conversation with Briten gave him the insight, or perhaps his connection to Morena. More, he knew that she knew what he was asking.
"It means, Var, that we shouldn't wait for them to arrive. That we must be the aggressor on this planet."
Silence fell on the room as his words died.
But they didn't truly die, not for either of them. They ricocheted around each of their minds, with each wanting the other to continue speaking.
"They will kill us all, if they can," Junior said. "We, you, have kept them at bay so far, but even Rigley tells us that they're coming, and at a much different level than before."
"And what do you suggest we do?" Morena asked.
"We attack before they can. We kill as many of them as possible, and keep them on the defensive. We overwhelm their cities, starting with one at a time, but as more of us evolve, taking on all of them. We don't stop until there is nothing to threaten you or the rest of us on this planet."