The Sound of Stars

by Alechia Dow

  Morris grabs hold of the bag. He opens it with a sense of childish wonder, and for a moment, I forget he’s one of them, one of the enemies that destroyed my world and home and family. But then some part of me remembers...we made it easy for them to destroy us. If they hadn’t come, we might have destroyed ourselves.

  “Oh, Ellie. They’re perfect. I don’t have any of these yet.” His fingers trace the lines of the records and he closes his eyes as if he can hear them already. “I really enjoy David Bowie, do you know him?” He is so gentle as he places the music back in the bag.

  “Everyone’s heard of David Bowie.”

  “What is your favorite song of his?” Morris smiles at me, encouraging me to see him as anything but a threat.

  “‘Life on Mars’?”

  “Ahh, I have not heard that one yet. Maybe we can listen to it together sometime.” He completely sidesteps the fact that I don’t know my future, and that we can’t do anything together. “My favorite is ‘Golden Years.’”

  I nod.

  “What is your favorite band?”

  I stop and think. My favorite band? When was the last time I listened to my favorite music? About two years ago, when the war started, before they took it away. “I love Beyoncé, and Rihanna. Of course, David Bowie, Queen and Prince, definitely. And I like classical music, you know like Bach, Tchaikovsky, Beethoven... But my favorite music of all time? The Starry Eyed. They incorporate orchestra and pop. It’s so—” I stop myself, shoving the pieces back inside of me. Too friendly, El.

  But Morris seems in awe of the words I spoke, and my animation. He’s silent for a moment. “I am... I’m so sorry, Ellie.”

  “What?” My voice comes out high-pitched with surprise.

  “I never thought humans were... If all are like you, then I grieve for what has befallen your world. I’m truly sorry.”

  My retort blurts from my lips with little thought. “They are all like me, and you should grieve. Everybody is either dead or dying or will be nothing soon because of you and your people.”

  Morris ignores that and eyes the shelves in the corner. “Why wouldn’t you date me?”

  I nearly choke on my gasp. “What?”

  “Alice asked you if you would date something—someone—like me. You didn’t seem interested. Why wouldn’t you date me? And what is dating?”

  “We have far bigger problems than dating, you know that, right?” I cross my arms.

  “Please tell me, Ellie.” He makes sad eyes at me, surprising me even more.

  “You know. Dating—when two people spend time together, romantically.”

  “Oh...like getting a drink together? It’s confusing, you see, because dates are days. I didn’t think it could mean more than that. And I wonder what humans would find romantic anyway.” The corners of his lips lift as if in thought. “Is this a date?”

  “No,” I gasp. “That is not our situation at all.”

  “If we were in different circumstances, would we?” His fingers twitch by his sides, and he glances around. I wonder if he’s nervous.

  “I don’t know,” I admit. I mean, he’s cute. He’s got adorable qualities, actually. But at the end of the day, I can’t imagine different circumstances; his people have killed, and are ruling, mine. Maybe he didn’t kill anyone, but still.

  He doesn’t push me on that. “What do humans do on dates?”

  “I can’t tell you that. Never dated.” I shrug.

  “I believe, by your definition, I have dated before, with an Ilori, obviously. I didn’t enjoy it, though.”

  Part of me wants to know why. Another part of me just wants to get out of here and enjoy the small amount of time I have left.

  “It’s hard to be yourself when you are different,” he finishes and smiles again at me.

  “Well, if that’s all—”

  “Would you be my friend?”

  I heave an enraged shudder. “Ilori have killed people—”

  “It wasn’t our choice. We had hoped to negotiate. We—my kind—didn’t wish to kill you. Your planet has begun warming at a dangerous rate. We’ve seen it with other planets, where the primary life force catalyzed an upset to natural occurrences.”

  “Global warming? You came here because of global warming?” I cock an eyebrow.

  There’s a pause before he answers. “Partly. We were planning on establishing a colony here while reversing the human impact on your world... I guess, like blackmail? But then you struck down three ships of emissaries. Bi1k0, H3L10 and IpS1L... Many Ilori were murdered...”

  I open my mouth and close it and open it again. I’m a fish out of water, discussing things few humans will ever know. “But it’s okay to murder humans?”

  “Again, it was not our desire to kill you. We’ve only killed in self-defense. We used to, anyway. Until Command changed our orders.” He shakes his head. “The true Ilori are opportunistic—they see a planet on the brink of danger, come in, take control, make it better, add it to their holdings and increase their empire.”

  Weird how he went from we to they. As if there are two types of Ilori.

  “In all honesty, I must say this is my first mission and I haven’t been here long. True Ilori decide our actions. All of this death, it was not sanctioned by us labmades. Or by me... Do you believe me?”

  “I don’t know the difference between what you are and what the rest of your kind is. I don’t even need to know. But just yesterday a girl was hanged in front of this building.” I raise my eyebrows at him, waiting for an explanation.

  His voice becomes small. “There is no justification for it, and any answer I give will not change what you have seen. But I have never killed a human. I do not want to kill a human. It’s important to me that you believe me.”

  “What does it matter, Morris? Why do you want me to believe you?” My confusion and anger are currently at war with each other.

  “Because I like you. I want to be your friend.” He’s so earnest and eager for an answer that I find myself not caring about the ridiculousness of all this. I have nothing else. The only friend I have is Alice. And I’ve been lonely. Why should I care anymore?

  “Sure, yeah, we can be friends. But keep your promise. Protect my mom and dad, and make sure Alice stays safe.”

  “I will not kill your mom and dad. However, I do believe your mom is upstairs, helping to administer the vaccine. I’ve made sure she will not receive it, but I don’t know how long I can keep her from it.”

  “You said you’d save her, you said—” I turn my face away from him, struggling with my feelings. I suspected that she’d been doing medical work in the labs; she hasn’t been the same for months. But still. I refuse to walk away from the dream of Mom and Dad being with me, as a family, before the end of all things. I brush away a tear. Maybe she should get it. Maybe then she won’t feel pain or stress or anything anymore.

  “I asked for help, but I’m unsure if it will be successful for long.” He steps closer to me as if to comfort me. “I’m sorry. I know I promised to save them, and I want to. But if I do it now, do it openly, they could kill me, Ellie.”

  I close my eyes, remembering her face and the way she was before the war. “If she gets the vaccine, will she be gone?”

  “Nothing is ever truly gone.” He reaches for my hand, but I push him away.

  I shake my head. “What does that mean?”

  The light brightens on his panel, startling us both. Morris shifts on his feet before his eyes glaze over and his breathing becomes haggard. He’s got that same robotic look as the others when they communicate in the Hive. I wonder who he’s talking to. Who he asked for help. If any of this is real or not.

  “I must go.”

  I hold the door open for him.

  “Ellie, thank you for the music. Same time tomorrow night?”

  He walks past me
and stops, his face inches from mine.

  “I’m sorry. But I promise you, one way or another, we will save her. And I am lucky to have your friendship.” He touches my arm with the tips of his fingers, another attempt at comforting me, I think, and then leaves.

  I take a few minutes to calm down before heading upstairs, where I fall into a dream-riddled sleep. In every dream Mom is screaming, and Morris smiles and calls me his friend, and I wonder if this is a dream or a nightmare.

  * * *

  The next morning, our task is to deconstruct broken cell phones as part of a technology lesson. Alice yammers on about me not joining her outside for exercise and how Jackson’s ignoring her, while I’m sitting on a secret that could derail our entire way of life. The vaccine is here. The illusion we’ve created for ourselves, the one that this life is normal, is about to shatter into a million pieces. How did we even last this long without falling apart?

  Truth is, I think it’s part of the human condition. If someone keeps stripping away our things, rights, freedoms, then we’ll hold on to what we know. That’s what we’ve done. Sitting at our tables in the assembly room all day, talking about nothing important. Doing things to keep our fingers nimble.

  Some things have stayed the same. The building’s still full of movement and routines. But noticeably absent are the sounds of life from the world before. The sirens as firetrucks and ambulances rush off to put out fires and collect the fallen, the pained, the dead. The subways screeching on tracks and shaking the ground. People stopping to chat on street corners as the block blurs around them in business suits and strollers. Everyone always had somewhere to be outside these walls.

  We can almost forget that life as our ears strain to catch something happy. A giggle echoing in a stairwell or light music in the underground parties. Little bits of hope that make us forget that our time is running out. Even as service crews come through the halls with their pushcarts of food, or amble through with big bags strapped across their backs, ready to collect our dirty clothes and dishes like we have another day or week. Or as we deconstruct in our assembly room, stopping at noon to eat some nutritiously disgusting lunch.

  Every other day, I think about the lunch I’d grab from Pick A Bagel around the corner; a whole wheat bagel with garden vegetable cream cheese and a black-and-white cookie to balance it out. And then I remember, belatedly, that this does nothing to help me survive. So I manage to stamp down those feelings of longing and sadness until we get our allotted gym time. We do laps until evening. Then dinner, and lights-out.

  We think this is normal. We consider it normal. Even when people are executed in front of us by a noose or a single Ilori, who could stare at a neighbor’s head till their eyes rolled back and they were gone. Just gone.

  For the second time, I wonder if maybe the vaccine is the better way to go.

  I excuse myself to the bathroom and sob until the tears refuse to come anymore. I’ve grieved for my dad already, but the sting of knowing I could lose Mom is...too much to bear alone. I have a day left, and then Morris will either find a way to save me, or stick the syringe in my arm himself, laughing at me for believing he had any intention of honoring our deal.

  How could I have been so foolish as to have trusted an Ilori? What if it’s all a con?

  My cheeks are dry by the time I step back into the cafeteria. Alice waits for me at the table, fingers drumming. “You should go ask Jackson about his sounds at the next break,” she says. “And while you’re there, can you ask him about Melanie? Are they together now? God, I’m pathetic.”

  “You’re not.” I squeeze her shoulder. “I hope I never made you feel that way. I know I can be judgmental sometimes.”

  She gives me a small smile while placing a small metal piece from a cell phone on the pile. “You can, yeah, but this time, I really was pathetic. We hooked up, and now he’s, like, pretending I don’t exist. I’m so ready for the world to end.”

  “It will.”

  She turns to me with raised eyebrows. “Do you know something?”

  “No,” I lie. “Only that it’s going to happen at some point, right?”

  “My mom and aunt didn’t come home last night. I know what’s happening, Ellie. I know you don’t want me to panic. But I’m sorta over the whole thing. Aren’t you? If they inject us, there’s no pain, there’s no more of this place.” She waves her arms around, attracting attention. “I lived, you know? I had love for a little while, I kissed all the prettiest boys, and some of the prettiest girls.” She winks at me, and my cheeks heat.

  We never discussed it, and I never came out to her or my parents, but I did mention to them that gender didn’t matter to me romantically. I only ever wanted to be with someone who has a good heart, good taste in books and music, and is kind. Alice is all of those things, and was my first crush, too. But things changed. The aliens came, and I never thought about it again. Now she’s my friend.

  I smile at her, not knowing what to say. Alice is youth and life and so... I would have been her friend even if we weren’t trapped together at the end of humanity.

  Her voice falls and strikes me with its rawness. “I wanted to kiss you so bad, but as I got to know you, I wanted something better. Friendship. Love. All of these people in here, they know they’re dying.” Everyone is staring at us now. “And they live like it. But you—you still live like there’s a future. With your stories, and secrets and all that intelligence. That’s why I’m still here, not hanging outside like Erica Schulman, or Thandi Philipps, or Edgar or Michael or...” She doesn’t finish, nor does she bother to wipe away the tears sliding past her nose.

  “I’m tired,” she says, as guards begin to close in around us. “I’m okay with it all ending. I have no regrets.”

  She leans in and kisses me. Her tears stain my cheeks, but her eyes hold mine. I’m surprised, but I do love her, the same way she loves me. My best friend at the end of the world.

  “Never stop rebelling,” she whispers, before she’s dragged away by two human guards and an Ilori who tells us all to get back to work. But I sit there, my bottom lip quivering, and a lump stuck in my throat as Alice is dragged to the door. An emotional outburst that disrupts our work and morale is only one transgression, and only a first transgression for her. She’ll be locked in her apartment without dinner, but she’ll be okay. She’ll be okay, I say once more to myself. And I really hope she will be.

  “Goodbye, Janelle Baker. The best damn person in here!” Her voice carries across the room as the guards struggle to open the doors. “Goodbye, Jackson Hughes. May your dick fall off!” And then she screams the lyrics to the Starry Eyed’s “These Starry Dreams” as the doors close behind her.

  I smile, blinking back tears. I swallow that lump in my throat. Always one for making a dramatic exit, despite our circumstances, Alice Dresden. Truly and utterly herself. Even in the darkest of places, she keeps on shining.

  If I trust Morris, can he save her, too? The clock is ticking.

  * * *

  Morris shows up right before recreation time and asks, May I? I nod quick before he says briefly, Same as yesterday. His hazel eyes stare at me from across the room, encouraging.

  After the speakers crackle alive, I’m off searching. I toss some things around in random apartments and rooms, and I shove others into the backpack with little thought or care. My mind is still on Alice. My backpack’s full and I’m about to bring it to the basement when I catch Jackson coming back to his apartment. I know that he has a great music collection. But our families have a bad history.

  “Jackson,” I whisper.

  “What’s up, Ellie? You’re not here to talk about Alice, right? Do you—” His eyebrows wag.

  I gag a little, but focus. Maybe it’s watching my best friend get dragged away, or the pressure of knowing the vaccine is real and happening, but I become reckless. And too impatient to lie. “No, I just... I want yo
ur—” my voice drops “—music. Can I have it?”

  “What?” He shakes the dusty blond hair out of his eyes. “Why?”

  “There’s going to be a raid later, and I’ve got a good spot for it. I want to help save everyone, you know?” I look at the ground, kicking my feet at the carpet.

  He shifts from foot to foot. As the seconds pass, I think he won’t do it and he’s just wasting my time. But then he lets loose a long exhale. “Yeah, you can have it. Hold on—”

  He runs into his apartment just as his father appears at the other end of the hallway. My stomach flops. Mr. Hughes’s gaze narrows on me, and anger and disgust roll off him in waves. I know what he’s thinking.

  When we moved into this building years before, Mr. Hughes was the CEO of some nonprofit downtown. He owned the top three floors of this building and was an active member of the housing board. His wife was a pediatrician and, at some point early on, she moved out but kept her doctor’s office upstairs to visit with Jackson.

  I remember my dad saying that he’d overheard Mrs. Hughes screaming at Mr. Hughes for a divorce, in part because of the way he treated our family. Dad said it tore Mr. Hughes up inside that we moved into his building, and that he worried we’d ruin its reputation. In the end, it ruined only his.

  From the way he glowered at us each time we passed him in the halls, I think he considered my dad a thug and my mom a welfare queen. Didn’t matter that my dad made good money and my mom had her doctorate. He questioned whether my parents could afford the place, even though we inherited our apartment and could pay the additional costs easily.

  He was relentless with I’m an ally, I’m a liberal. And in the same breath, he’d mumble to our neighbors, But we don’t want this sort living here.

  No wonder his wife left him, Mom would say.

  I never told my mom or my dad that most of the other residents were like Mr. Hughes. That while he was outspoken about it, the others would grip their purses a bit tighter when they saw me, or stare at the lapel of my school uniform with awe—the unasked question hanging between us. How did she get in there? Or they’d lift their chins and sniff, keeping their distance as if our presence would infect them. I didn’t tell my parents any of that, because it meant the dream we’d given up so much for hadn’t come true. It was better to lie and let them think it was only Mr. Hughes who made our transition difficult.