Cries of the Children

by Clare McNally

Will you be open-minded about me?

  What about us?

  She looked around at the others. That hadn’t been Julie, but she couldn’t decide who had spoken to her.

  “Please, Samantha,” Wil said. “Tell me what you remember. Does it have something to do with that crash? With the yellow house?”

  Samantha nodded. It would be okay to reveal that much, for now. But then again, what if someone was listening?

  “Are we being monitored?” she asked.

  “Probably,” Wil said. “But I checked everywhere and can’t locate a bug. I think you’ll be okay if you whisper.”

  Samantha lowered her voice and began her story. If they were bugged, it didn’t matter. She was not telling all she knew.

  “Gordy was right,” she said. “I am a survivor of a . . . shipwreck. I traveled through the water to land in a pod like the one we saw in Marty’s room.”

  Rachel gasped. Wil turned to her.

  “Do you know something about that?”

  “We found a whole room full of them,” she said. “Behind a secret panel.”

  “They’re kept in metal crates,” Eric said. “About thirty. When we broke into the room, it set off a silent alarm. That’s how they caught us.”

  “What are those things?” Rachel asked.

  Samantha wasn’t exactly sure, but she thought it was the entire reason for their being here on Earth.

  “When I came near enough to swim under my own power,” she went on, “I disembarked and sank the pod. The ones you found may have resurfaced accidentally.”

  She didn’t dare think of the horrible alternative: that her comrades had been captured and imprisoned ten years ago, perhaps even allowed to die.

  “What did you do when you got on land?” Barbara asked. She had taken a seat on the tabletop and was leaning forward to catch every softly spoken word.

  “It was dark, and I could see the glow of the ship’s explosion just along the horizon,” Samantha said. “I made my way down the beach, looking for a place to hide and rest.”

  Looking for a place to change.

  “I found an empty house near the jetty,” she said.

  “The yellow house with green shutters?” Wil guessed.

  Samantha nodded.

  “I never spent a childhood in there,” she said. “I think I must have picked up some false memories in the time I was hidden away. I’m sure I was hurt, and exhausted; maybe even in shock. The house had been deserted, but earlier that summer a family had stayed there. A child must have used that pail and shovel you found in the ruins, Wil. In my hurt mind, I made that toy my own.”

  Rachel stood up and walked across the room to the door. She looked out the small window and saw they were under heavy guard. Then she turned back and said:

  “It still doesn’t explain where these children came from, or why we feel so drawn to them.”

  “I think I know who can answer those questions,” Samantha replied. “The child they’re still holding prisoner—Marty.”

  She looked at Wil.

  “He called the children to this place,” she said. “He must know everything.”

  Wil was about to reply when the door opened. Then a huge man walked in, fixing his piggish eyes on each of them in turn, and Lorraine backed up into Wil’s arms. He put his hands on her shoulders.

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  LaBerge glared at him.

  “You are in no position to ask questions,” he said. “However, I will tell you my name is Walter LaBerge. Now, you tell me who you are.”

  “Wil Sherer,” the former cop replied. “I’m a detective, from Ashleigh Creek, Colorado.”

  “I didn’t ask where you were from,” LaBerge snapped. “Although I might have. What right do you have to be here in New Jersey?”

  “I’m a private detective,” Wil amended. He nodded toward Samantha and Julie. “Samantha Winstead and the child named Julie are my clients.”

  LaBerge looked at them. Julie turned her face into Samantha’s arm.

  “I see,” he mumbled. He looked at the black family. “I know who you are. Your wallets told me. Eric Freleng and Rachel Freleng, of Columbus, Ohio.”

  He rocked back on his heels.

  “You’re from all over the map, aren’t you?” he said. “But it isn’t residents of the USA I’m interested in.”

  He looked down at Lorraine.

  “What do you know of Marty?” he asked. “What connection could a human child have with that creature?”

  “Marty’s my friend!” Lorraine wailed. “I already told you that!”

  “Yes, I know,” LaBerge said. “And I think you’ve been lying. I think you’re all liars. You know something, don’t you? Don’t you?”

  Lorraine hugged Wil tightly.

  “I’d suggest you stop terrorizing little children, LaBerge,” Wil said. “You’re holding us prisoners against our will. That’s a federal offense, although I have a feeling you understand all about things that are ‘federal.’ “

  LeBarge turned his attention to the detective.

  “Don’t play cop with me,” he said. “Have you forgotten we confiscated your gun?”

  Wil didn’t give him the courtesy of an answer.

  The fat man turned to Samantha.

  “And you,” he said. “What do you know of our alien specimen? I’m told you put on quite a show when you saw him.”

  Samantha stiffened. It wasn’t right to call a sentient being a “specimen”! she thought.

  “I have an idea,” LaBerge said. “I’m going to bring you all downstairs. Maybe if you meet Marty as a group, you’ll be more willing to answer my questions.”

  Lorraine whispered into Wil’s ear, “Why does he keep talking about Marty in such a funny way? What’s wrong with Marty?”

  “Nothing,” Wil whispered back. “He’s exaggerating.”

  LaBerge wasn’t exaggerating at all, he thought. But he did hope there was nothing wrong with Marty. He’d never seen anything like that in his life, and he respected Samantha’s belief that Marty deserved respect. He also deserved the same rights as any other living being—mainly, the right to his freedom.

  No one protested as they were escorted from the room under armed guard. LaBerge should have wondered about their sudden silence, but he was too caught up in what would happen when they all saw Marty to think about it.

  In truth, only their voices were silent.

  Samantha, tell us about Marty, Rachel requested.

  He is . . . not like us, Samantha began, wondering how best to approach the subject. Now that they were actually going to see him, the shock of meeting Marty would be softened if Samantha prepared them. At least, he is not the way we are now,

  What do you mean “now,” Samantha?

  It was Steven asking the question.

  Steven, does the name Ixtaura mean anything to you?

  Steven thought a moment, staring at his sneakers as they were hustled down the hallway. The others were also lost in thought. Only Wil, Barbara, and Eric kept their eyes on LaBerge.

  It’s a little familiar. Like a place I went to once, long ago,

  I think so, too, said Lorraine.

  Sorry, Rachel put in. Nothing here.

  Me neither,

  You’ll remember in time, Julie, Don’t worry. Listen, everyone. You have to prepare yourselves for a real shock. It was so sudden to me that I could not control my emotions, That’s how I was caught, I think your only hope of escape is to make them think you are normal human beings, just caught up in all this by accident,

  Aren’t we “normal human beings”? Julie asked.

  Samantha swallowed. They were entering the elevator that would take them to the lowest level. It was her last chance to reveal the truth before they all found out in the cruel way that she had.

  No, Julie, I’m sorry I don’t have time to say this more gently. But we are not humans at all. We’re from a planet called Ixtaura,

  That’s crazy! Steven cri
ed in his mind.

  Rachel put an arm around him. Wil noted the gesture, and wondered if they were somehow “communicating.”

  Maybe not so crazy, Steven, Rachel said. We already know we’re different from others. The way we can talk with our minds, for instance.

  The elevator door opened. They were led to the same supply closet where Wil and Samantha had found cleanroom suits.

  “We don’t have any that will fit the children,” a guard said.

  LaBerge looked from the white suit in his hands to his group of captives.

  “I don’t think it matters now,” he said. “There’s no need to use the suits.”

  “But, sir!” the guard protested. “The danger of contamination—”

  “I’m well aware of that!” LaBerge answered. “The subject has already been contaminated! He had contact with this little one . . .”

  He indicated Lorraine. She moved closer to Wil, whom she had unofficially adopted as her new guardian.

  “. . . and these others know something about him,” LaBerge went on. “They have answers, and I mean to get them!”

  He reached for Julie, who just happened to be the closest person to him. Holding her upper arms tightly, he shook her and shouted:

  “Or I will kill the whole lot of them!”

  Julie screamed.

  “Let her go!” Samantha cried, stepping forward.

  Wil and Eric both moved in to save the little girl, but three guns suddenly rose to the level of their heads.

  “What’s the point of hurting her?” Eric asked.

  But LaBerge wasn’t listening. He dragged Julie, screaming, into the back room. A half-dozen white figures turned to them in surprise. LaBerge pulled Julie along. The others hurried after them, stopping when they reached the curtain. With a curt gesture, he ordered everyone else out of the room. The guards hesitated, but LaBerge’s silent order was clear. When they were alone, LaBerge began to speak.

  “Look now!” LaBerge said. “Look now and give me the answers I’ve been wanting these past ten years!”

  With that, LaBerge jerked back the curtain that had kept Marty hidden. His eyes were wild as he scanned the group, ready to gloat at their reactions. Wil and Samantha, who had already seen Marty, only stared. Barbara uttered a loud curse. Eric instinctively jerked Rachel away, and in turn she pulled Steven into her arms.

  “Lorraine, are you doing that?” Steven cried, forgetting to use his mind in his excitement.

  “No!” Lorraine protested.

  “Doing?” LaBerge echoed. “Doing what?”

  He turned around, and when he saw what was lying on the table, he let out a scream that rattled all the glass in the room. There was no sickly alien boy there at all, but a hideous beast with bright red eyes and a tooth-lined mouth that ran vertically from the middle of its “face” to the bottom of its belly. It was covered with hair, shaped something like a fat snake that had been split open. It reared up on multiple hind legs, letting out a high-pitched keening sound.

  “What the hell is that?” Eric demanded.

  “Don’t be afraid!” Steven cried. “It’s only make-believe.”

  “It’s real enough for me!” Barbara cried, racing to the door.

  Wil stopped her just in time. “You’ll alert the guards!”

  They turned to see the “thing” flop forward, just as LaBerge’s fat form stumbled. Moving with unusual grace, LaBerge rolled away, saving himself in the nick of time. He went on screaming, but no one moved to help him. The room was soundproof, so the guards had no idea what was happening.

  “Make it go away!” he screamed like a frightened child.

  “We can’t,” Steven said. “We didn’t bring it here.”

  It must be Marty! Julie thought.

  Where is he? Rachel asked. Where did he go?

  There seemed to be no sign of the boy anywhere in the room. But there was no time to look for him. The “beast” was pulling itself up to its full height now, an amazing ten or twelve feet. It swung itself around, looking very much like a lasso. This time it caught LaBerge by his legs. The fat man screamed in horror.

  “Stop it! Stop!”

  And then a strange voice filled the room.

  I’ll make it stop. I’ll make it stop when you set my people free.

  That doesn’t sound like Marty! Lorraine cried.

  “Who is that?” Wil asked.

  Everyone turned to him.

  “You heard that?” Samantha asked. “But how?”

  “It’s coming over the intercom system,” Barbara said, looking up and around.

  “Yeah, I heard it too,” Eric said.

  The creature was thrashing back and forth, flopping LaBerge about as if he was light as a feather. They noted he had stopped screaming.

  “He’s passed out,” Rachel said.

  “Maybe he’s dead?” Barbara asked.

  Instantly the horrible creature vanished. There were no signs that it had existed at all. LaBerge lay unconscious on the floor, but his pants legs weren’t even crumpled.

  For a long time everyone stood in eerie silence.

  Then Samantha moved slowly forward to the partitioned area where Marty had been a short time earlier. She reached for the doors of a closet and pulled them open.

  Marty sat inside, his body folded up into a ball. Gently Samantha reached in and pulled him out. Cradling him in her arms, she carried him out for the others to see. Barbara’s mouth fell open. Eric shook his head in wonder.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that before,” he said.

  “Marty isn’t a ‘thing,’ “ Samantha said. “He’s an Ixtauran child. He is what we all—with the exception of Eric, Wil, and Barbara—look like.”

  Marty regarded them all with huge aquamarine eyes. He did not speak, or even try to communicate with his mind. He was too weakened to do so.

  “Hello, Marty,” Lorraine said in a soft voice. She came forward and touched him, completely without fear.

  As if they’d been well-prepared for this moment, the other aliens also surrounded Marty.

  “How did you know he was in the closet?” Wil asked.

  Samantha smiled at him. “Some of your detective’s talents must have rubbed off on me. I realized that Marty couldn’t have left this room without being seen. The only place he could have hidden was the closet.”

  The others gazed at the young male alien, the children touching him in gentle wonder.

  “He doesn’t look strong enough to have created that monster,” Rachel commented.

  “I think he’s hurt,” Lorraine said. “Sometimes, when he would talk to us through our minds, he would stop. He said they were doing things to him.”

  Rachel shuddered visibly. Eric put his arms around his wife, feeling a little unsure about all this “alien” business.

  “If he didn’t do it,” Steven said, “then who did?”

  They all looked at each other. Then Samantha said in a soft voice:

  “There must be others.”

  “But how did they get in here?” Barbara asked. “Where are they?”

  Eric looked toward the door.

  “I don’t know about that,” he said, “but those guards are bound to come back in here at any moment.”

  He turned to Marty. Samantha had laid him back down on the examination table, and his eyes were drooping toward sleep. Eric had never seen anything more amazing than this young alien, but he did not have the luxury of time to be either fascinated or repulsed by him. Instead, he leaned toward the being’s tiny ear and said:

  “Is there another way out?”

  Only one way.

  When he didn’t hear Marty, Eric stood up.

  “He said ‘only one way,’ “ Lorraine told him.

  “That means we’re trapped,” Barbara said.

  Just then the door opened and two white-suited figures entered. The children moved toward the adults. Wil instinctively reached for the gun that was no longer at his side. The figures did not ackn
owledge the group, but went to LaBerge’s prone figure and knelt down to examine it. Then they stood up and took off their helmets.

  There was a man with a crewcut and a woman with black hair and porcelain skin. The woman gazed at Lorraine while the man spoke.

  “He’s alive.”

  Samantha guessed at once who the woman must be.

  “You . . . Lorraine belongs with you, doesn’t she?”

  “Vrodrani is our child,” the woman said. She went to the little girl and knelt down to her.

  “How did you get in here?” Wil asked. “Where are the guards?”

  The man grinned broadly. “Sleeping it off. They won’t awaken until we’re long gone.”

  Lorraine put her hands on the woman’s face, staring into her eyes.

  “I wanted to find you,” she said. “But I had to come here when Marty called.”

  “I know, dear,” the woman said.

  She stood up and looked at the group.

  “My true name is Morgana,” she said. “Here on Earth I’m called Judy. This is my husband, Kalor.”

  “My Terran name is George,” the man said. “In fact, until we know we are safe, it would be best to use our Earth names.”

  Barbara held up her hands.

  “Whoa!” she cried. “All this alien stuff is really bothering me. Would one of you guys like to explain what’s going on here?”

  “Please sit down,” George said. “It’s going to be a very long story. It began nearly a hundred years ago . . .”

  Everyone took a seat and listened intently. They were so caught up in George/Kalor’s words that their minds did not pick up the signals coming from LaBerge’s body. He was coming into wakefulness, but he played possum, and listened to every word that was said.

  55

  “OUR RACE ACHIEVED the ability of interstellar flight many Earth centuries ago,” George said. “In the time since then, we’ve made just a few ‘first contacts.’ We became aware of Earth only recently in our history.”

  “One can’t simply land on a planet and say, ‘Hello, we’re here!’” Judy said.

  She held Lorraine on her lap. The child’s head had dropped to her chest, and she was sound asleep. Her ordeal in the operating room, and then in the tunnel, had been too much for her.

  “It takes years to prepare for a meeting with another species,” Judy went on. “Years of study, of acclimating to that new race’s way of life.”