Fortified

by J. F. Jenkins

  “It’s going.” Orlando shrugged, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. Unfortunately, his father was a lot better at reading him than he thought.

  “You were meeting with your team,” he stated.

  Again, Orlando rolled his eyes. It was his signature move. He’d trademark it if he thought he could. “Yeah, and?”

  “Anything interesting to share?”

  “No, like I said, it’s going. We’re still meeting, but there aren’t any dirty little secrets to share.” He was telling the truth, kind of. “Not exactly, I mean. There were a few kids who went in for rehabilitation recently. Process didn’t go okay. I think I told you about that already.”

  “A little, yes.” His father turned a page. The fact that he wouldn’t put down the book and look at him annoyed Orlando. And he wants to be respected?

  “That was the last exciting thing we did,” Orlando said. “Alan wanted to just let us know he was thinking about us. He’s nice like that. I think it helps him relax to visit too. Can’t blame him. Must be stuffy and boring to be on a spaceship all of the time.”

  His father nodded. “It can be, especially after a long period of time.”

  Orlando pressed his lips together, trying to not let it bother him that his parents would rather travel across the universe than spend time at home. To be trapped on a stuffy, uncomfortable space ship than on solid ground with fresh air, sunshine, and most importantly, their children. A fact he was still getting used to. His parents were Alturan ambassadors, which made him Alturan too. An alien. Born on Earth, but still technically an alien. He had a home tribe and everything, and it made his parents angry beyond belief that he chose to align himself with Alan’s tribe instead of theirs. But Alan hasn’t let me down. I trust him. I’m not someone he only seeks out when it’s convenient.

  “Uh huh,” Orlando said, filling in the gap of their conversation. “Anyway, so that’s all. Other than that, I’m handing the keys of my investment property over to my tenant this weekend.”

  “Another thing you don’t need to be doing.”

  Actually, I do. My best friend needs some place to live until he can build his new life. Orlando didn’t mind sharing information about his work with Alan, but he’d never tell his parents about Dallas. His best friend was supposed to be dead. Anyone who knew him in the past needed to keep believing that.

  He shrugged, trying to play the whole thing off as no big deal. “It’s never too early to start making my own money. You should be happy I’m not using my trust fund for less savory things.”

  “True, I guess we did something right.” The man actually smirked.

  “Lyssa did something right,” Orlando snapped. How dare he try to take credit for what my sister did.

  “And we’ll be taking over, now. I wouldn’t be surprised if she moves out soon. Especially now that things with her boyfriend are getting more serious.”

  Orlando dreaded the thought, though he knew it to be true. She didn’t have to stick around anymore. He was an adult; he had all of his money. She’d done her time being his legal guardian for almost five years. Moving away to be on her own would be good for both of them even if he hated the idea.

  Knowing his father was just trying to get a rise out of him, Orlando pretended to not be bothered by it. “I will be too. Once I’m done with school, I’m going to get my own place. Then you and mom can go back to whatever you want to do. Actually, you can do that now. We’re fine and I’m no longer required to be supervised.”

  “Your mom is tired of going back and forth all of the time. Intergalactic travel is taxing on a regular basis and we’re both not getting any younger. I’ll be tying up a few loose ends, and then retiring while she stays here to spend time with you and your sister. The hope was to bring you both back with us to Altura so you could see where we’re from.” His father paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “Even if it’s just for a brief visit, it’d be nice to introduce you to the rest of the family. I’m sure you want to stay here, permanently. Earth is your home.”

  Which explained why his parents never wanted to be there. They missed Altura. He and his sister were the only things keeping them tied to Earth. Orlando sighed. “Maybe someday. Not a someday soon.”

  His father glanced at the clock. “I’d rather not talk about this in front of your mother. She’s so sensitive. If you knew how guilty she felt...Anyway, remember your promise. Tell me as soon as you’ve got any new information about the work you’re doing. My contact with the red tribe hasn’t been too open about sharing things. Given my position as ambassador, it’s good for me to know as much of what’s happening as possible so I can tell the governments of Earth.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Orlando decided to hold back his eye roll for a change and bite his tongue. He had to humor the man, throw some kind of bone for him to chew on for a bit, or life was going to be a lot more miserable. I promised, and I promised to try and not pick fights with him all of the time. Besides, I wouldn’t put it past him to kidnap me and take me away if he thought it necessary. So for now, I’ll do what I can. We’re all on the same side anyway. Shouldn’t be that big of a deal, right?

  He softened when his mom entered the kitchen, humming softly, seemingly without a care in the world. As angry as he was at his parents, he channeled most of the aggression in his father’s direction. When it came to his mom, Orlando accepted her affection, craved it even. If he could think of a way to ask for more without giving up his pride, he would in a heartbeat.

  The day they returned to Earth, he had been on his deathbed, having donated most of his life force to Dallas. If it weren’t for Cadence and Jaes, he may have succeeded in his quest. Most of that day was a blur, but one thing stood out to him. His mother had cuddled him close and sung him lullabies like she had when he was young. When she gave him any kind of attention, he knew it was genuine so it was hard to be mad at her. Where his father was rough and cold, she was warm and gentle. Orlando could forgive her. Somehow he’d have to find a way to get her alone.

  If Dad is going back to work soon, I’ll get my chance. Once he’s gone, things are going to be a lot better. The lift in negative tension alone would be worth it.

  Orlando watched as his mother got a pot and started to boil water on the stove. She sang while breaking apart the noodles and dropping them into the pot even though the water was still cold. He raised a finger, his mouth open to correct her, but held back. I’ll tell her later. She can have her moment.

  “How was school?” she asked.

  He sat down at the island counter, looking back at his father who still read in the adjoining living room. The man briefly raised his gaze to meet his son’s. Orlando shifted in his chair, unable to hold the gaze for long. “Good. Getting ready for finals, prom, all of the normal high school stuff.”

  “Prom?” She faced him with a big grin. “Are you going to go? I remember Lyssa’s first prom! It’s such a great tradition. There’s one back home like it too.”

  Orlando hid the shiver running down his spine as best he could. Alturans had dances? He was having a hard time believing that given how stiff pretty much every Alturan he’d ever met was. Good to know they have some fun.

  He’d been quiet for too long. “I haven’t decided if I’m going to ask anyone yet.”

  “Your sister says you have a girlfriend,” she said.

  “She must have missed when we broke up,” he mumbled.

  His mom frowned. “Think you two can make up?”

  “Undecided,” he said. That was the only answer he could commit to without breaking out more details than he wanted to. If his parents found out the whole truth behind Tait, he’d definitely be on a one-way ride to Altura.

  “Do you have anyone to take as just your friend?” she asked.

  Orlando snorted. “No. My only other female friend in the school is taken. There’s probably a list of eligible ladies who’d love to be my date, but if it comes down to going with someone for the sake of having someone to go
with, I’ll pass. Besides, I don’t like dances much.”

  “Liar.” His mother smirked back at him from over her shoulder.

  He hated she was right. Hated and loved it. Because she still knew some things about him. Before Dallas died, Orlando had been Mr. Popular, the football team’s future all-star, and a straight A- student with the blond hair and pretty blue eyes. The total package or so he’d been told. School dances of all levels had once been the highlight of his existence. After Dallas committed suicide, Orlando withdrew from all of his activities, dyed his hair black, and stayed as far away from socializing as possible. The only thing he maintained from his previous life was his desire to have a high GPA.

  All the same, he still enjoyed busting some moves on occasion. I can’t let her know that, though. So he shrugged and let out a small laugh. “Whatever, Mom. Dancing isn’t something a guy likes to do, just a skill he knows so he can impress the ladies.”

  “Then you should go and impress some,” she teased.

  “Right,” he mumbled. While he appreciated the attempt at a pep talk, he wanted off the topic of prom and fast. “I’ve been thinking a lot about school, though and I want to see if I can take classes over the summer to speed up the whole graduation process. Maybe get out in December instead of next spring. Move on to college.”

  His mother stirred the noodles in the pot. Orlando couldn’t be certain, but he thought he heard a sniffle hidden in the sound of the boiling water and blowing of the stove fan.

  “Are you okay Mom?” he asked, hesitantly, wondering what he’d done wrong now.

  She shook her head, waving her free hand. “I’m fine.” She gave him a weak smile. “Are you okay?”

  Great, is she going to try and be my therapist now? “Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, nonchalantly, even though he could come up with a whole list of reasons from just that past month alone.

  “I’m glad you haven’t changed completely,” she said. The answer threw him for a complete loop.

  He narrowed his gaze at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I like that you still have your sights set high for your studies,” she explained.

  “The changing comment was more what I meant.”

  “You’re different in surprising ways.”

  Orlando barely suppressed the groan inside of him. “If Lyssa has you worrying, stop. Just because I dyed my hair and changed up my wardrobe doesn’t mean it’s a big deal. I’m experimenting with my identity. Things were rough for a little bit, but I pulled through them just fine. These past few months have been really good.”

  It felt strange to admit. Things were in fact good. Something he never thought he’d experience again after Dallas died. Even if his best friend hadn’t been resurrected, Orlando could still say he enjoyed life once more thanks to all of his new friends.

  His mother’s smile widened, becoming more genuine. “I was thinking about the recent splash of color you’ve been adding these days. You’re a good different. Don’t take it the wrong way, and don’t go backwards just to spite me.”

  How do you know so much about me without being here? Those were two things he’d do, easily. If there was one thing that gave him a thrill, it was going against expectations—especially when spite was involved. Not his best quality, perhaps another thing about him he was changing. Eighteen seemed too old to be doing something so childish. There are better ways to show them I know what I’m doing.

  Orlando chose his next words carefully. “Like I said: I’m experimenting with my identity. It’s what teenagers do here.”

  “As long as you’re being yourself, you can dye your hair purple.” She laughed.

  That comment got a snort from his father, however. “Not in my house.”

  “I’ll wait until after I move then,” Orlando quipped. Now I have to. I hate purple.

  Once more, everyone was quiet. His mother pulled the pot off the stove to drain the water into the sink. “There’s one question I’m surprised you haven’t asked us yet.”

  “What’s that?” Orlando asked.

  “Our powers,” she said. “I’d thought you’d want to know what they are. We’ve been waiting for you to bring it up thinking it’d be better to not push anything while it’s all still fresh.”

  “Farrah,” his father warned.

  She shook her head. “We should talk about it sooner rather than later.” She gazed at her son. “It’s important because it impacts what you can do…and what you could do in the future.”

  Orlando leaned toward her, about to ask what exactly it was his parents could do. He’d wondered, briefly, but in the chaos of processing the fact that he was an alien along with all of the other drama of his life, it didn’t seem like vital information. Now he was beginning to rethink that decision because she made it seem awfully serious.

  Before the words could come out of his mouth, however, his older sister walked into the house.

  As if caught red handed, he sat back in his chair, putting his hands in his lap. “Perfect timing, Lyssa. Mom is just about to taint the spaghetti.”

  “I’m doing nothing of the sort. How about you inspect this jar of sauce while you use your big boy muscles to open it,” his mother countered, putting a jar of classic tomato sauce in front of him.

  Rolling his eyes, Orlando picked it up and popped the lid off with ease. “Man muscles, mom. You call five-year olds big boys.”

  “Hate to break it to you, bro, but you’re always going to be the baby,” Lyssa said. She ruffled his hair as she walked by him on her way to greet their father. “Anyway, I came home with the intent of eating with you all. The spaghetti won’t be tainted either because I walked Mom through the whole thing this weekend.”

  “If you say so.” Orlando stood to go get bowls. Helping would keep his mind off of their interrupted conversation. And of course he was dying of curiosity now that he was suddenly aware of what he didn’t know. Wouldn’t surprise me if she did it on purpose. Something to hook me into staying at home more. He shook his head, serving dinner before taking his seat at the kitchen table. I’ll play along, for now. And just like any good son would, he ate two bowls of spaghetti even though it tasted like tomato-flavored cardboard.

  Chapter Five

  The goal for when Alan returned to his ship was to avoid Jaes until he’d gotten a good night’s sleep while chewing on Cadence’s advice. Already, he’d been able to steer clear of his roommate’s path with ease. If Jaes was in the gym, Alan chose to eat in the cafeteria. He even went so far as to spend extra time exploring new, irrelevant areas on Earth, just for something to do to pass the time until bed. Unfortunately, when he walked through the front door of their luxury suite, Jaes was sitting on the couch reading over some papers. While he did his best to seem casual, he gave off the impression he was waiting.

  “The Yumsaltanz want the Ilotus back,” he said, in the same way one would talk about the weather. It grated on Alan a lot more than he expected.

  Alan gave a slight nod, encouraging his friend to talk so he didn’t have to. Perhaps he could get through the rest of the evening with ease if Jaes said everything and steered the conversation as far away from the leak as possible. Other business was interesting enough, and perhaps Alan would be able to do a little bit of Cadence’s second suggestion and feed his friend some false secret information just to see what happened. Even though doing so makes me the furthest thing from a good friend.

  “I told the Yumsaltanz we aren’t finished with it yet, and they didn’t seem to care. I understand their tribe owns the device, but we were told we could use it in exchange for our help. Seems like they’ve gone back on their word, to me.” Jaes huffed, looking more like the young man he was instead of the old man he tried to be. As the prodigy, a lot of pressure was on his shoulders to be mature, intelligent, and ready for anything. Since he was only nineteen years old, the moments where he made mistakes happened more than he probably would have liked.

  Because whether anyone else b
elieved it or not, Jaes was flawed. Part of why he liked Alan so much was because he wasn’t treated like some kind of a god. With Alan, he let loose, let himself be more vulnerable. The blind trust Jaes had in him almost left Alan feeling guilty since he didn’t reciprocate the sentiment. It’s not like I asked him to spill his guts to me, and I don’t mind listening either. In fact, I prefer it. And Alan wasn’t sure he was ready to divulge the deeper, darker, parts of his life. The things that would betray his true feelings about the war and the work they did together. Because another thing about his roommate was his fierce loyalty to the tribe, something they shared, but unlike Alan, Jaes didn’t seem to question orders. Alan’s reservations might be seen as an act of betrayal.

  When they both stayed quiet for a long moment, Alan realized Jaes was waiting for a response. He cleared his throat. “It does seem that way, yes, but I don’t want to jump to conclusions. There has to be a reason they need it back now, and even if there isn’t, I don’t want things to get worse. We don’t need more enemies, especially over something so...small. In the grand scheme of things, I mean. We’ll get our chance to use it again. I’m sure of it. There’s so much work to be done using the Ilotus, we could probably keep it forever. Perhaps they could have a turn to play with their own toy for a bit.”

  “Don’t lose your optimism. It’s admirable,” Jaes said, though he did follow that up with an eye roll. “We didn’t plan on keeping it forever. It’d just be preferable to process the rest of the data we collected before giving it back. Transferring it all is going to take time. More than the handful of days they’ve offered us.”

  “Optimism is not a hard thing to hold onto. Make the choice to see the best in our situations instead of the worst, and you’ll understand what I mean. This might end up being better for us.” Alan felt like a hypocrite saying as much, seeing as how he wasn’t choosing to see the best in his friend, let alone the circumstances surrounding his life at that moment.