Understanding the Stars

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Understanding the Stars Page 16

by Xela Culletto


  Glit hesitated, but then opened the door with a rear tentacle and backed out of it without turning. A moment later I heard the hum of the ship as it took off. Gamafor began floating away back down the hall.

  “Do you know where Ronan is?” I asked.

  The Kema’dor are bringing him here now. It is fortunate I have extracted the technology prior to their arrival.

  “Please—will you help me rescue him?”

  No.

  Why not?

  It wouldn’t serve any purpose.

  “Saving someone’s life has no purpose?” I asked, incredulous.

  Your species is hardly endangered.

  “That’s your qualifier for the value of life?”

  The Kema’dor will be here in 157 seconds. I have no desire to encounter them. Good day.

  Then the cloud creature began to fade away until it was completely gone and I was left staring at the beige wall.

  But I wouldn’t be alone for long—more aliens would be arriving any second. I did the only thing I could think of—ran and hid in the nearest closet. After I ducked in behind some coats, it dawned on me I probably should have armed myself with something. I felt around, but the only thing I could find was an umbrella.

  I left the door open just a sliver so I could see out toward the front door. I didn’t have to wait long before it suddenly launched open with a bang.

  Two of the tall, muscular Kema’dor from the grasslands entered first, scanning their heads left and right on their long necks. Then another followed, pushing Ronan before them. He was bound in gray cords, and he looked exhausted, but didn’t seem to have any wounds.

  “Show us your command center,” one of the Kema’dor ordered Ronan with a shove.

  He walked past the closet and down a hallway to the left. The three Kema’dor followed him with a loping stride. The front door had been left open and I could see at least two more of the creatures outside. Things weren’t looking good.

  There was a sudden commotion down the hall—the Kema’dor didn’t sound happy.

  “What do you mean, it’s gone?”

  “Gamafor must have come and taken it.”

  “You’re of no use to us now,” one of the Kema’dor said viciously.

  Without thinking, I burst out of the closet, brandishing the umbrella, and rushed down the hall into a spacious room. Before I could make it to Ronan, one of the Kema’dor grabbed me with its slimy hand.

  “What’s this?” one of the aliens asked.

  Ronan looked bewildered to see me there.

  “I’m his friend,” I said breathlessly. “You have to let us go.”

  A belchy laughter came, and two more Kema’dor entered the room. All five of them were armed with long hefty weapons.

  “Why would we do that? Without the Solamure data processor, he is no use to us, and hazardous to keep alive.” The Kema’dor gestured toward Ronan, then turned his focus on me. “Your death would be both useful and pleasurable.”

  A weapon was raised and pointed at my head. I raised the umbrella in defense, brandishing it like a fencing foil.

  “But then you’ll never get your antidote,” I said desperately.

  The Kema’dor paused.

  “What antidote?”

  “The cure! I was just—Gamafor was here. He said they’ve discovered the cure for you—for your species. I’ll get it for you! And Ronan will have to help. I need him.”

  The Kema’dor glanced at each other, then began burbling, which I took as a sign they were considering my fabrication.

  “What makes you think you can get it?” one of the Kema’dor suddenly asked.

  “Because—because the Solamure know us. They know Ronan, and they’ve trusted him with so much information already. You have to admit that we would stand a better chance of getting the information from them than you do.”

  More burbling. I snuck a glance at Ronan who was looking exceedingly troubled.

  “All right, human. Under threat of death, you will have your chance. If you fail, be assured your demise will be swift in coming, and it will assuredly not be painless. You have forty-eight hours.”

  One of the aliens suddenly grabbed my arm and encircled its slimy hand around my wrist. When it was removed, a black metallic band was left, wound tightly.

  “A tracker. We will know where you are. Meet us here. We will not be happy should we have to hunt you down.”

  Chapter 21

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Yes. I think an opportunity has risen. Let’s mosey over to Ronan’s place, shall we?”

  “What are we going to do?”

  The aliens had gone, unbinding Ronan before departing. He had ushered me up a spiraled staircase to the house’s vast attic, and we had settled onto the plush couches. Gazing out the slanted windows, we contemplated our situation.

  “Well,” Ronan answered. “What options are there? Run? There’s no chance of outpacing the Kema’dor. Hide? The trackers make that futile.”

  Ronan also had his wrist ensnared in a tracking devise. I’d wanted to try sawing it off, but Ronan assured me that was pointless. The only way to be rid of them was to cut our own hands off.

  “Do you think—would Gamafor be willing to help?”

  “Of course not. Besides, without all the equipment, I have no way of contacting him.”

  “Maybe the METUS? They clearly don’t like the Kema’dor.”

  “The METUS only care about their own made-up laws. Their rules are very fluid, and can be interpreted to mean pretty much anything they want. We might ask them for help, but in turn be arrested for any arbitrary reason.”

  “Well, then, what are we going to do?” I asked again.

  “Think, for now. Two unaided humans stand no chance of hiding from, outrunning, or overtaking the Kema’dor. No chance at all.”

  He sighed deeply and leaned forward, head fallen.

  I put my hand on his back and traced shapes with my fingers while I racked my brain for something to say that might comfort him. I couldn’t think of anything.

  Two days. My lie had bought us two days, but what was the point if we were just going to die anyway?

  The doorbell rang suddenly, startling us both out of our ruminating. We glanced at each other then Ronan took my hand and led the way to the foyer. We both tensed as he looked through the peephole, though I doubted any alien would have used the doorbell.

  “The CIA,” he said, letting out a breath and opening the door.

  Three men—one in a suit and the other two in black police uniforms—stood on the porch. None of them were familiar.

  “Alexandra and Ronan, correct? May we come in?”

  Ronan’s hand gripped the edge of the door hard, but after a pause, swung it open.

  “Nice place,” the suited man said. “You can call me Garvan. You’ll remember my predecessor, Nash, I’m sure.”

  I met his gaze with stony silence, but Ronan said, “Please, have a seat,” and gestured toward the parlor.

  We all paraded down the step into the cream-colored room, except the two officers who stood at the entrance. Garvan sat opposite Ronan and I.

  “I’ll be brief. We’ve been monitoring this address for a period of time now, and your recent interactions with extraterrestrials haven’t escaped our notice.”

  My first impulse was to deny everything. Weren’t we already in way too far without the CIA complicating things? But I held my tongue and Garvan went on.

  “There are certain political divisions that would very much like to obtain a living specimen. It’s been attempted—most recently at the warehouse I’m sure you recall—but never accomplished. Usually due to the unknown whereabouts of the creatures.

  “But,” he continued, studying us carefully as he spoke, “we now have the opportunity to know exactly where a sample could be acquired, and when it would be possible. I’m here because I’m sure it’s entered your mind to run from your…predicament. But I’m afraid I have to ask you not to f
lee. We’d like to offer our protection for you in exchange for your cooperation.”

  I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but Ronan was quick to grasp it. “You want to use us as bait.”

  “A crude metaphor, but that’s the general idea, I suppose,” Garvan responded.

  Ronan looked wary. “What makes you think you can protect us?”

  “We have been studying extraterrestrial weaponry and biology for longer than you might imagine. We wouldn’t attempt to engage with them if we didn’t believe we could succeed.”

  “I want to see it,” Ronan said. “Your strategy, your research, your equipment—everything. I won’t risk her life on your word.”

  Garvan gave Ronan a hard look, which he met scowl for scowl.

  “Very well,” Garvan said. “Though I feel inclined to remind you that you won’t find another offer like mine. There is no one else who will help you.”

  Leaving a business card on the table, he left with instructions to visit his “facility” early the next morning. We watched them drive away in the unmarked black SUVs.

  “Come with me,” Ronan said, and, after entering a security code next to a thick steel door, led me into a basement garage. Our footsteps echoed as we walked past some truly drool-worthy sports cars to his black Mustang.

  He held the door for me and soon we sped up a ramp that exited from behind the house. The only sound came from the powerful engine, eager for speed. Only when we were on the road did he begin talking.

  “The house isn’t safe, but we can talk here. What do you think?”

  “I hate the idea of getting people mixed up in this mess.”

  “They’re going to get themselves mixed up in it whether we want them to or not,” Ronan replied, keeping his eyes on the road.

  I sighed. “That’s probably true. And he’s probably right—there isn’t anyone else who will help us.”

  “So is that a yes? You want to do this?”

  “Well, what do you think they want us to do, exactly?”

  “Pretend we got the cure from the Solamure, meet with the Kema’dor, and then try not to get killed while they move in.”

  “So we’d be completely putting our lives in their hands.”

  “Yes.”

  “Risky.”

  “Yes.”

  But he knew it and I knew it—this was probably our best shot at getting out of this mess alive.

  “I’ll look over their plans tomorrow and let you know how reliable it all seems.”

  “What do you mean you’ll look over the plans? I’m going too!”

  “Alex,” he said apprehensively, “please don’t fight me over this, but I really think you should spend the day tomorrow with your mother. It’s the very least she deserves.”

  My mother. Who must be worried sick about me. Alone in an empty house.

  “Okay,” I said in a small voice. “You’re right. You have to promise to let me know everything you find out tomorrow, though.”

  “Of course,” he responded. “I’m going to drop you off at your home now. It’s getting late.”

  Chapter 22

  “This is everything?”

  “Unless there’s something you could contribute. Anything that would help you and Alex escape safely?”

  “I told you—Gamafor took everything.”

  “Then let’s pray this is enough.”

  Mom opened the door in her pajamas. When she saw me she burst into tears and threw her arms around me. I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten, so I promised her we would talk the next morning, and we both went to bed.

  It was surreal, being in my room again, lying in my bed. I was not the same person who had grown up in this room. It made me sad to look around and see all the things that had belonged to my happier past life.

  The next morning I woke to find Mom standing in my doorway watching me with an expressionless face. I didn’t know what she was expecting from me, so I said the only thing I felt.

  “Mom, I’m sorry.”

  Her face crumpled. I climbed out of the bed and gave her a long hug.

  “Alex,” she said in a thin voice, “you don’t know. You don’t know what you’ve put me through.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I repeated. And I was. I wished that none of this had ever happened. I wished that there was no life beyond this planet and that my mother and I could live our lives out in peace and normality. I felt a sudden, venomous hatred for all aliens.

  Mom sniffled and pulled away, drying her eyes with her fingers.

  “You must be hungry. Let me make you some breakfast.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, though it had been weeks since I’d felt any sort of appetite.

  She busied herself with pots and pans while I sat on a chair at the table.

  “No matter what you said when you left, I still half expected to see a ring on your finger last night.”

  “It’s not like that Mom,” I said.

  She opened the fridge and pulled out some eggs and orange juice.

  “Well, call me naïve if you want, but when girls your age run off out of the blue with a boy, more often than not it ends in somebody getting married.”

  “I wouldn’t do that to you Mom,” I said in a small voice.

  She looked up from the bowl she was cracking eggs into.

  “I know you wouldn’t. I’m sorry.”

  “I love you,” I told her.

  “I love you too.”

  We spent the day at home. The TV was on, but we mostly ignored it, instead chatting about Dad, relatives, and events that had been going on. Once or twice she tried to broach the subject of what I had been up to, but once she realized that was taboo, we moved on to safer topics.

  We were having such a nice time that it surprised me when I noticed the windows were beginning to darken.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “About seven,” she replied. “I didn’t even think about dinner. Should we order a pizza?”

  “No, Mom, I—I have to go.”

  The disappointed expression I’d expected appeared, but she said, “I thought as much. Just please don’t be gone so long this time.”

  A lump sprang into my throat.

  “I’ll try,” I said.

  Ronan’s headlights appeared through the living room window at 7 o’clock on the dot, as arranged. Another tight hug for Mom, then I walked out of my home, not sure I’d ever see it again.

  Chapter 23

  The earthlings have made no attempt to contact the solamure.

  Don’t attack until their time is depleted. We are honorable beings.

  Ronan held the car door open for me and squeezed my hand as I got in.

  “I missed you today,” he said, settling in beside me.

  “You were right,” I answered. “It was good for Mom and me to spend the day together.”

  He responded with a sad smile, and backed out of the driveway.

  “Where are we going?” I asked. I’d expected him to turn in the direction of his house, but he’d gone the opposite way.

  “We’re going to have to change the rendezvous point,” Ronan said.

  “Oh?”

  “The CIA’s plans are more thorough than I expected. Actually, I was impressed with how much information they’ve garnered. But for the strategy to work, they’ll need more space than the house can offer. The Kema’dor won’t that like much—they’ll be even more suspicious than they already are.”

  “How are we going to tell them?”

  “We’re not. We’ll just have to be at the new location and wait for them to show up.”

  “…Show up ready to kill us for not meeting them.”

  “They’ll undoubtedly be ill-tempered. The CIA will have to act quickly.”

  “Do you think they really have a chance? To save us I mean?”

  “I do. It’s not certain by any means, but a chance is better than what we were faced with 24 hours ago.”

  24 hours. Half our time was gone. This
would possibly be my last night alive.

  “What do you want to do?” I asked.

  “I thought you would be tired,” Ronan replied.

  “Not a bit. In fact I feel… invigorated.”

  “Well, in that case,” a playful smile crossed his lips, “I’m sure I can think of something we could do.”

  “Not like that,” I said teasingly, lightly slapping his shoulder. The last thing I needed was more to set off my nerves.

  He exaggerated a disappointed expression. “You have something else in mind?”

  “How much time do we have?”

  “Garvan wants us on location in the morning. So, about 15 hours. Except it’ll take two to get there.”

  Thirteen hours of freedom.

  “This is probably going to sound dumb, but…can we go to a bookstore?” I loved the bookstore. It somehow made me feel both grounded and liberated.

  “As you wish,” he answered, and pushed the Mustang up a gear.

  We got drinks at the café and drank them slowly as we moseyed about. He of course knew which books I had and hadn’t read, but I was surprised to find that while his taste was similar to mine, it also included westerns.

  “They’re just so… earthy, I guess. You won’t find anything like them in the intergalactic libraries.”

  I smiled and picked up a copy of “Lonesome Dove” at his recommendation. Somehow we ended up cross-legged on the floor in an abandoned corner. We leaned into each other while he played with my hair and I skimmed through the first few pages.

  “You’re beautiful, you know,” he said quietly, interrupting my reading. “I just couldn’t remember if I’d ever told you. And I wanted to make sure I did in case things… turn out badly tomorrow.”

  “Thank you. You are too. Good looking, I mean,” I fumbled awkwardly.

  “If it ends tomorrow…” He paused for a moment, and I turned to face him. “If we die tomorrow, I hope you know I don’t regret any of it. I feel utterly fortunate I was able to come to know you. You’ve been a beacon in my forsaken life.”

 

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