Startoucher

by C. J. Odle

  He was more interested in the people walking beyond it. He recognized Gemini immediately, Marina leading Adam and Billy through the desert, all three of them looking sweaty and tired as they stumbled across the sand. Jake stopped the car, expecting them to come over to talk, but they didn’t. They kept looking around as if they couldn’t see him. Their voices came to Jake with a muffled edge to them, as though from the other side of a wall.

  “I’m telling you,” Marina said. “I can hear… It sounds like a car engine.”

  “I can’t hear anything,” Billy said.

  Did Marina’s psychic talent give her an edge? Would she be able to see what lay beyond the shield, given time? If so, how would the three of them react? Jake wasn’t sure he liked the idea of Gemini poking around a real alien ship, if only because he suspected they would probably start pushing buttons to see what would happen.

  “I’m telling you,” Marina said, “there’s an engine. Can’t you hear it? He’s out here somewhere.”

  They were there looking for him? Jake almost got out of the car to head toward them and talk. He could guess how much it would mean to the trio to learn about an actual alien craft, perhaps even to speak to Vega. Two things stopped him.

  First, a worry about what might happen next. Jake wasn’t sure if Gemini and Marina were exactly what the aliens needed to see when they were trying to understand how humans had turned out. Even if it didn’t affect the trial, there still remained the question of what Sirius might do to stop them from telling the world about the location of the ship. He didn’t want the three of them wandering around with their memories wiped, or worse.

  Second, what about his deadline? Less than twenty-four hours to find the one person he wanted to be with if this went wrong, persuade her to come with him, and then return to the desert. To stop now and give the trio a tour of the ship would be plain crazy. If anything, he needed to scare them off.

  He knew what to do.

  Jake sped toward the invisible shield around the ship and hoped there would be enough grip for the wheels. The air crackled as the car passed through, and Jake’s attempt to steer a straight course across the desert sprayed sand all around him.

  Marina and Gemini stood there gaping, and Jake could guess what it must look like: his car appearing from nowhere, sliding into being from thin air.

  He reached the dirt road, and suddenly his GPS sprang into action. He turned left in the direction of Kelso Dunes Road and smiled as he saw them scrambling and shouting after him. The dirt road eventually ran parallel to Kelso Dunes Road, and he turned left again to cross a firm patch of sand to join it just before the main parking area. Jake soon passed the point where he’d plowed onto the sand and crashed, and he drove back to the freeway as fast as possible.

  Vega waited for Sirius to return to the ship with the cargo of witnesses. It did not take long. The small pod had almost the same galaxy-spanning speed of their main craft. Vega could feel Sirius’s approach like pressure on the outer edge of its being, Sirius’s thoughts and sensations coming ahead of it like a wave.

  The wave carried a hint of satisfaction at odds with Sirius’s usual detachment.

  “What has made you so pleased?” Vega asked as Sirius’s pod docked.

  “Perhaps I am just satisfied to have performed this task well,” Sirius replied.

  Vega pulsed disbelief at Sirius.

  “Very well,” Sirius sent back. “I am fascinated.”

  “To know how our experiment has turned out?” Vega guessed.

  “Yes,” Sirius replied.

  They started to unload the pod. It required pulsing a pen-sized laser at the middle of each of the witnesses’ foreheads before guiding them out one by one. The strobes of bluey-white light brought them to a semi-conscious state where they could walk, but did not rouse them sufficiently to permit resistance.

  It was strange to consider how a species they’d brought to life could have turned out so differently from their own. Vega had studied the data about their continual wars, and about the damage they’d inflicted on their environment. If a species evolved technologically and culturally to such an advanced degree but still persisted in fighting, did it suggest the two of them had encoded an intrinsic violence into its DNA?

  Sirius and Vega herded the zombielike witnesses along the tubed corridor to a room with vertical, clear cylinders of softly glowing liquid. Robot arms unfurled from the ceiling and picked the witnesses up to then lower them fully clothed into individual tanks until the viscous liquid reached their necks. One pulse of light, and the liquid set firm enough to hold their bodies, yet with sufficient give to permit breathing. After inserting feeding tubes and sealing the tanks shut, the robotic arms rose without a sound. The whole orchestrated maneuver lasted less than twenty seconds.

  Here the humans would be safe, docile, and unconscious. Vega and Sirius had transported specimens across whole starscapes like this, taking them to new worlds without the subjects ever being aware of the shift.

  Vega thought about the trial. The alien did not have Sirius’s pretense of disinterest. It hoped humanity would survive and eventually prove the experiment a success. Genetic diversity was vital for the future of the galaxy.

  “Are you ready to tell me why you are so fascinated?” Vega asked.

  Sirius remained silent for a while, but over the centuries, Vega had learned to read its silences. Its fellow being was considering whether to share its thoughts.

  “You know me well,” Sirius sent. “Yes, I am fascinated. After all this time working together, we are experiencing something new. It is… an intriguing prospect.”

  “You are looking forward to the trial,” Vega pulsed.

  “Yes, I believe I am.”

  “We must remember that this is not just a trial,” Vega sent. “It is not even simply about the success of an experiment. We are determining the fate of an entire species.”

  “I am aware of the implications,” Sirius pulsed.

  The silence returned and deepened as the two aliens worked side by side adjusting the controls on the cylinders.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As Jake drove along the desert roads, he gripped the wheel to steady himself against flashbacks of the crystal bed, the universal consciousness, and the gossamer screens in the control room of the ship. When he finally reached the first built-up area, the sight of a suburban shopping mall calmed him, the mundaneness of it comforting after the empty spaces of the desert.

  He’d known it would be her the moment Vega had told him that he would need to persuade a woman to be ready to come with him. Even though he’d just met Sarah, there was no one else he wanted to go halfway across the galaxy with. How exactly did you start persuading someone to travel to the stars with you? It sounded vaguely romantic, but the executioner’s blade hanging over humanity made the context impossibly bleak.

  Jake grimaced. He faced a mind-boggling task with virtually no chance of success. How could any sane person accept the reality of the trial? Jake could, only because he’d been taken to an alien ship and operated on, and was experiencing the effects of the cosmic plasma. This huge change had allowed him to process and understand what the aliens had revealed about their experiment here on Earth.

  Driving back into LA, Jake again felt the strength of his survival instinct and potential to adapt. If necessary, he could discard his old life like a worn-out pair of shoes and leave this planet. He’d always been a loner, so this would just be taking it one massive step further. But Sarah had sparked something vital in him, and now that the cosmic plasma pulsed silently in his brain, Jake felt that, in some inexplicable way, they were destined to be together.

  He decided to trust this feeling and ignore the logical objections.

  Once back in his neighborhood, he parked his car and gathered himself for the most important call of his life. He dialed Sarah’s number, listening to the ringing and trying to guess at what she might be doing. Would she be painting the canvas he’d seen in the vis
ion? Maybe she would have given up by now, throwing it out, along with all memories of him. Jake didn’t think so, however. The connection between them was too strong.

  “Jake?” Sarah didn’t sound certain when she picked up, like she’d just woken up or thought it couldn’t possibly be him.

  “Hi, Sarah.”

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t hang up on you right now.”

  “I need to talk to you. It’s important. Life-or-death important,” Jake said.

  Sarah didn’t respond, and Jake thought she might just hang up. If she did, what then? The answer was obvious. He would go to her gallery. He would wait outside for as long as it took for her to let him in. He couldn’t afford to give up. Not with less than twenty hours remaining before the start of the trial.

  “Jake, what’s happening?” Sarah finally asked. “In the past week you’ve walked with me on the beach, disappeared, shown up for lunch, run off again, and answered my calls with a crappy text. I don’t know what to think about you. Are you interested in me or not?”

  “Yes,” Jake assured her. “I’m very, very interested in you. If I could, I’d take you away to the stars with me.”

  It sounded a lot cheesier when he actually said it, but afterward, he knew he’d told her the literal truth. He didn’t want anyone else, and he had no backup plan.

  “Why did you behave so weirdly in the restaurant? I need an explanation.”

  “I can explain. Just let me come over,” Jake said.

  “And this ‘life-or-death’ stuff?” Sarah asked. “Was that just a line to get me to talk to you?”

  “No lines.”

  “Then what are you caught up in?” Sarah asked. “You’re not representing organized crime or anything stupid like that?”

  “No, I’m not,” Jake said. Nothing so simple. With something like that, there were at least well-trodden ways out. “Although, if I asked you to come with me into witness protection, would you?”

  “Now you’re just making fun of me,” Sarah said.

  “Not as much as you think,” Jake replied. “Please, Sarah, can I just come to the gallery and talk?”

  “You still owe me dinner at a nice restaurant after running out of the last one,” Sarah pointed out. She seemed to be thawing toward him at a little. “There’s a new place I’ve been wanting to go to.”

  “What new place?”

  “They call it Zoo,” Sarah said. “The way I figure it, if we meet there and you run out, at least I’ll get to have dinner somewhere interesting by myself.”

  “I’m not going to leave you by yourself,” Jake promised. In fact, if he had his way, he would never leave her alone again. They arranged to meet at seven p.m. After the call ended, he quickly checked the radio for any news of the missing witnesses but drew a blank. Jake felt exhausted, so he drove back to his apartment to grab a few precious hours of sleep.

  Zoo was everything its name suggested. The waiters wandered the restaurant in scanty animal-print uniforms. The walls were strung with foliage and flowers, making it look like the diners were in the middle of a jungle, albeit a not-very-convincing one. The windows contained bars, and when Jake was foolish enough to ask the waiter why, he explained the concept with a patronizing smile.

  “To give diners the experience of being animals in a zoo at feeding time.” An observation platform even hung above the cavernous dining hall, so people could come in and watch the animals eat.

  Sarah’s curves were on show in a ruched white top and formfitting black slacks. Her kitten heel mules completed the stunning effect, and as she gazed around the room, her eyes sparkled.

  “It’s like being in the middle of a piece of performance art,” Sarah said.

  Ordinarily, Jake would have been cynical and dismissive, but Sarah could see the value in all of it. He saw the place with her eyes and felt her joy in it seeping through. And her joy made him realize just how much he had changed.

  The waiter returned, his bare arms and legs gleaming. The special aquarium sushi required a minimum two-person order; Sarah wanted to try it, and Jake was happy to oblige. They both ordered a glass of white wine, then Sarah excused herself to go up to the observation platform and take some photos with her phone. Jake studied the menu he’d kept.

  Aquarium Sushi

  Chef-Artiste Pierre Lafitte’s tribute to his Normandy childhood, and his many years wandering the tropical beaches of Asia, key elements in a lifelong quest to blend exquisite flavor with passionate art. Ethically sourced blue fin tuna, certified organic Alaskan salmon…

  Jake shut the menu and scanned the crowded room. A few tables along, he could see a waiter in leopard print using silver tongs to pick up large slabs of raw steak and place them on wooden boards in front of three burly men. Another waiter arrived and gave each dinner a robust wooden cudgel. The men looked apprehensive and gulped their beers.

  Sarah sat down again as a small army of semi-naked waiters arrived. One-inch borders were clipped to the sides of their table, then a generous layer of gravel was spread over the entire surface. Next, colorful pieces of coral were arranged strategically, followed by scallop shells, each one containing two pieces of sushi. Seaweed was draped wherever the waiters felt like it, and a miniature bucket and spade was placed in one corner. The bucket contained soy sauce. Finally, tubes of wasabi were squeezed onto the arms of two dried starfish, and mounds of ginger were dumped on each center.

  “Madam, monsieur, bon appétit.” The waiters left.

  “That’s quite a sight,” said Sarah, picking up the tiny spade and scooping up some soy sauce to tip into one of the scallop shells. She deftly used her chopsticks to dab some wasabi under the two pieces of salmon, and then popped one in her mouth. “Not bad, but I’ve had better.”

  Jake took a sip of his wine and picked up his chopsticks. They both ate in silence for the next few minutes.

  “Jake,” Sarah said, her eyes narrowing. “You promised me an explanation.”

  Bang, bang, bang. Bang, bang, bang.

  Jake glanced toward the burly men trying to tenderize their raw steaks with the cudgels.

  “I did,” Jake said. “But I don’t know how to begin.”

  “You’re married?” Sarah asked, throwing her hands up in the air.

  Bang, bang, bang. BANG.

  Jake smiled. “No, it’s nothing like that.” He paused. “It’s bigger and more complicated.”

  “Was I right before, with the guess about the mafia? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “It’s even bigger than the mafia.”

  Sarah frowned. “I’m not sure how many things are bigger.” She froze in place for a few seconds. “You’re not dying of some awful disease, are you? Like a brain tumor or something? Because it would explain things.” She seemed to realize what she’d just said. “Sorry.”

  It was hard to argue with. Sudden headaches, erratic behavior…

  “No, I’m not dying of anything,” Jake said. “It’s just—”

  “Would you like to order another dish?” a waiter asked, arriving at their table in a sudden wash of zebra print.

  “No, thank you,” Jake said. “The truth is, Sarah—”

  “Perhaps some more wine, then?”

  Jake glared at him until he went away, but he knew the moment he tried to get the conversation back on track, it would be something else. People staring. Another waiter. One of the animal-skin-wearing floor show gliding by. There was simply no way of having a conversation of this magnitude in the middle of a busy restaurant. Especially Zoo. Even if they weren’t interrupted again, there would be the constant sense of being stared at.

  “Sarah,” Jake said. “Can we do this somewhere else?”

  “You’re not enjoying the ambiance?” Sarah asked, and for a moment, Jake thought she’d decided to make him work harder. He looked into her eyes and waited a few seconds before speaking.

  “Please, Sarah.”

  “All right,” Sarah said, giving in. “Let’s at le
ast finish this sushi, and then we can go back to the gallery. But whatever you have to say, Jake, it had better explain all of this craziness.”

  “Oh, believe me, it does,” Jake replied.

  They reached Sarah’s gallery and walked in. Jake peeked through the narrow archway and could see a white cloth hanging over an unfinished canvas on the easel in the back room. Sarah plonked herself down on the sofa to the right of the gallery entrance, and Jake joined her.

  Tension rose up in him as he approached the moment when he’d have to explain the whole unbelievable story. Jake tried to work out the best way to say it. Except no best way existed. How would he even begin? The silence grew, and Sarah started to fidget, then finally shrugged with an air of exasperation.

  “Well?”

  Jake’s heart jumped as he spoke. “This is going to sound pretty weird. But I promise you it’s true. Please, promise you’ll listen to all of it, no matter how strange it sounds?”

  “You realize that isn’t exactly a comforting way to start?” Sarah said, but she nodded. “OK, I’ll listen.”

  “I’ve been seeing things,” Jake said. “I’ve been having headaches, sleepwalking, and getting visions. That’s why I ran out of the restaurant. I had a blinding headache and could feel a vision about to strike.”

  The tension in his chest began to ease, and he relaxed into the sofa.

  “Between the ages of thirteen and fifteen, I had visions, but I pushed them to one side like they never happened. I just wanted to be normal. Recently, though, they came back with a vengeance. I started to see this one scene over and over. An alien in a desert.”

  “You realize—” Sarah began, but she stopped herself, letting him continue.

  “I saw the Kelso Dunes on TV,” Jake said, “and I recognized them from the desert in the visions. I had to go. So I drove out there on Tuesday. Remember that text I sent you? I sent it just before leaving. By the time I got there, it was night, and to avoid hitting a pickup truck, I skidded onto the sand, and I have a vague memory of crashing into a rock.”