Alienated

Chapter Eleven

“Hey, come check this out.”

Aelyx watched Cara press her face to the living room window, one hand cupped above her eyes, the other sweeping aside the sheer white curtain. Early morning sunlight streamed inside, bathing her fair skin and illuminating the tiny blond hairs that sprinkled her forearm. As he approached the window, chants from the sidewalk grew louder, and he could finally make out what the protesters had been droning for the last hour: They say allies; we say ALL LIES! They say peace pact; we say EXPULSION ACT!

When Cara moved aside, he squinted against the brightness and peered across the street, where a fervent hundreds marched a circuit under police supervision, waving signs to advertise the L’eihr Expulsion Act, which would revoke his student visa if it passed. He hoped it did.

“Not that.” Cara pointed to the ground in front of the house. “That.”

Aelyx glanced down. “Losers.” Someone had bleached the word into the grass. A heavy fog settled inside his lungs. The protests had grown more violent with each day. Human paranoia hadn’t quite peaked yet, but he wouldn’t have to wait much longer. This was what he’d wanted, so why did he sud­denly have to struggle to catch his breath? Why did he feel that invisible weight stooping his shoulders again?

“Crazy, huh?” Cara’s stomach rumbled and she pressed a hand over it. “I need to eat before we go.”

They’d decided to spend the weekend collecting water samples from a nature preserve in the next county. Soil sam­ples, as well. The Elders had asked him to compile a variety for scientific analysis, though they hadn’t explained why. Regardless, he was eager to escape Patriot scrutiny and spend a tranquil day with Cara.

He followed her into the kitchen, where the smoky scent of sausage and eggs filled his nostrils. The smell of human food no longer turned his stomach, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed eating it. Wheat toast topped with a few slices of beef, already on the table for him, was the only breakfast he could tolerate.

" ’Morning, you two.” Eileen bent over the sink, her arms immersed to the elbows in sudsy water. Bill stood beside his wife, one arm wrapped around her waist while he rinsed an iron skillet with his free hand.

“’Mornin’.” Standing on tiptoe, Cara placed a brief kiss on her father’s cheek while reaching into the cabinet for a bowl.

Casual, affectionate touches seemed as natural to this family as breathing, and although the Sweeneys had gone out of their way to make him welcome, Aelyx always felt like an outsider during these moments. He sat at the table and focused on his toast.

“Hey, Dad, you think we should call Colonel Rutter? The protest’s pretty tame now, but he might want to send some guards to—”

“No!” Aelyx shouted before thinking better of it. All three Sweeneys turned to look at him. “The, uh, Elders think a mil­itary presence will cause more fear among humans. If you feel threatened, I’ll join the colonel at the nearest military facility.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it anyway,” Bill told Cara. “This is Midtown, not Manhattan. Nothing happens here.” He and Eileen returned their attention to breakfast dishes, but Cara wasn’t so easily placated. She studied him for several seconds before pouring cold cereal and milk into her bowl and joining him at the table.

When he couldn’t meet her eyes any longer, he pulled the Puppy Love game from his pocket to feed canine number twelve. And though it went against all logic, he changed the settings to allow the animal to sleep in its master’s bed. Hope­fully this one would survive.

Cara glanced over his shoulder at the screen. “You’ve killed eleven puppies?”

“Clearly your game is flawed. But not to worry. I’ll mas­ter it.”

She shrugged, muttering over a bite of cereal, “Whatever you say, dog slayer.”

Cara watched a dragonfly settle delicately on the water and ride the current downstream. It zigzagged around a protrud­ing cluster of moss-conquered green stones and coasted out of sight. She closed her eyes, skimming two fingers along the stream’s icy surface, and enjoyed the gurgling, babbling music of flowing water.

“So tell me why you need these samples,” she said.

Aelyx crouched near a patch of cracked mud. He pierced the earth with something that looked like an oversize hypo­dermic needle. “I’m not sure, but I think our scientists want to analyze pollutants and counter the damage.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He smirked and shook his head. “Judg­ing by these preliminary readings, you’ve contaminated your planet quite thoroughly.”

“No, I mean why do L’eihrs care about the environment? Why do they want to help?”

“I guess for the same reason we gave you the cure. A ges­ture of friendship.” He turned the needle tool on its side and tapped a glossy gray information screen.

But friendship involved give and take. What did humans have to give? Besides, judging by how cold L’eihrs acted, she didn’t imagine friendship topped their priority list. She decided not to press the issue, though. If she put him on the defensive, he might not answer her other questions.

Aelyx squinted at the screen. “Did something happen here?”

“Like what?”

“Chemical spill or some other contamination?”

“I don’t think so.” She found a dry patch of gravel and sat down cross-legged. “Hey, can I ask you about something you said in the last interview?”

Aelyx dismantled the tool and reached into his bag for another needle. “Of course.” He reassembled the device and dipped it into the stream.

“Well, I’m mostly curious about life out there in other galaxies. You said your Voyagers searched for ten years to find people like us. What else did they find?”

He shook the water-filled instrument and tucked it into his bag. “If Sharon were a decent journalist, she’d have asked that.” He climbed the riverbank and sat on the gravel beside her. “Exploring the universe for living beings is harder than you could possibly imagine.”

“But your ships are so fast. Didn’t L’eihr just send a bunch of them in every direction?”

“It’s not that simple.” Aelyx picked up a fallen branch and snapped it in half. He used the pointed edge to draw a large circle in the mud. “I want you to imagine this circle as a tiny fraction of our universe. The universe itself would take up all the land around us, as far as the eye can see. You with me so far?”

“Yep.”

“Within this circle are billions of planets. Some of these can be eliminated as sources of life because their climates are too harsh, but millions remain to be explored. Even with hundreds of ships, imagine how long it would take to survey all of them.”

“Wow.”

“Yes, wow.” He picked up a handful of pebbles and scattered them inside the circle. “These represent the few life-forms that exist in our small section of the universe. Keep in mind that life-form doesn’t necessarily mean intelligent life. Some planets, especially the younger ones, support only bac­teria and single-celled organisms.”

She fidgeted with a smooth stone, suddenly feeling very small and insignificant. “How much intelligent life is out there?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Our Voyagers found less than a dozen cognizant life-forms, but who knows how many more exist outside the circle. Finding humans was equivalent to winning the lottery, even after ten years of searching.”

“Those intelligent life-forms—can they travel to other planets?”

“Not any that we found.” Aelyx pushed off the ground and slung his bag over one shoulder. “We passed a clearing on the way to the stream. I’d like to go back for some more samples.” He offered his hand to help her up.

She hesitated, caught off guard. Aside from their first handshake, Aelyx had never initiated physical contact with her. Not even once. She reached for his hand, but he changed his mind at the last second and turned to continue on his way.

“Did the other aliens look like us, too?” she asked, stand­ing on her own.

“Yes and no. From what I learned, they all walk upright, but their limbs and facial features are different.”

“But if you don’t count evolution, L’eihrs and humans are practically identical. Our DNA is almost the same. What’re the odds that two species light-years apart would be so similar?”

“The odds are infinitesimal,” he said with a grin, “unless you believe the ancient legends.”

“Oh, ancient alien legends.” She paused to hop over a fallen log. “That sounds creepy.”

“According to old stories—and by old, I mean thousands of years ago—a legion of L’eihr soldiers were taken from their camp on the eve of an important battle.”

“What happened to them?”

“Supposedly, an enormous spacecraft descended from the heavens and hovered above the soldiers’ camp. Then they all disappeared inside the ship. At the time, we didn’t have the technology for interplanetary travel, so our ancients blamed their gods. Anyway, some of my people believe the abducted soldiers’ descendants were scattered throughout the galaxy, and humans are the offspring of ancient L’eihrs.”

“But L’eihrs have evolved so far beyond humans. How do they explain that?”

“Simple.” He stopped to smooth his hair back and rese-cure it. “The breeding program is largely responsible for our advances. You humans procreate with no regard for the bet­terment of your species, which accounts for your weaknesses. No offense.”

“None taken.” She rolled her eyes.

“But here’s the most interesting part. A few of the Ancient Ones had blue eyes.”

“Really?”

“Just like yours. According to your scientific community, all humans had brown eyes until about ten thousand years ago, when they believe a mutation occurred. Some of my people believe there was no such mutation, that our Ancients brought that trait to Earth.” Nudging her lightly with his elbow, he added, “You and I might be related.”

“Oh, sure. I can see the family resemblance. But why aren’t your eyes blue?”

“It seems the trait died out.”

“But how can any of this be possible? What about the theory of evolution on Earth? "

“Cah-ra,” he said with a laugh, “it’s just an old legend. Hardly anyone believes it.”

“Oh, right.” She felt foolish for getting worked up over a silly story, but for some reason, the tale had brought chills to the surface of her skin. Luckily, another question came to mind and pushed aside thoughts of creepy legends. “You told me the clones are kind of incubated in a machine, right?”

“You’ve oversimplified the process, but that’s basically it.”

“But what happens afterward? When the baby’s born, or fully grown, or whatever? Who raises it? Are there enough parents to go around?”

Aelyx stopped at the edge of the clearing, scanning the ground looking for the best place to take his next sample. “Our population’s carefully controlled, so each generation per­fectly replaces the last. Because of that, yes, there are enough caregivers to go around. But we’re all raised and educated in a large commune called an Aegis until we turn twenty-one and leave for the occupational barracks. Each precinct has its own Aegis, and most of us go there after we’re removed from the artificial wombs.”

“Is a precinct like a town?”

“More like a state, and there are only five of them. Remember, we’re not heavily populated. Everyone on L’eihr could live inside Texas.” He glanced at her and grinned. “With plenty of room to spread out.”

“You said most of you go to the Aegis. What about the ones who don’t go?”

“Some citizens might want to foster a clone if they share blood ties with him. They’re permitted to house the infant for two years, but it’s pretty rare.”

“Wait. Wouldn’t that be like raising your own ancestors?”

“No.” He shook his head and gave a soft laugh. “Some human twins are genetically identical, right?”

“Right.”

“Does that mean they’re the same person?”

“Point taken.” Still, it was hard to wrap her mind around this whole clone business. She couldn’t imagine changing diapers for the infant replica of her grandpa. “So after two years, parents aren’t allowed to see their . . . foster-clone anymore?”

Aelyx glanced up, his silvery eyes warming. “Of course they can see the child. But families as you know them on Earth don’t exist on L’eihr.” He knelt on the ground and pushed the needle tool into the dirt.

Joining him, she sat with her legs crossed at the ankles. “Were you fostered by anyone?”

“No. I went from the womb straight to the Aegis.”

“Oh!” Suddenly everything made sense.

“What’s wrong?” He darted up in alarm and glanced around.

“That’s why you can’t stand to be touched.”

“What?”

“You were practically raised in an orphanage. You didn’t have a mother to hug you or a father to hold your hand. That explains why you hate to be touched.”

She reflected on her most cherished childhood memories: riding atop Dad’s shoulders, curling up with her parents under thick blankets during a thunderstorm, cocooning in Mom’s lap during story time. She couldn’t imagine growing up with­out that.

Aelyx laughed dryly and knelt on the ground in front of her. “I don’t hate to be touched.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you do. You flinch every time my mom lays a hand on you.” She snorted a quick laugh. “You couldn’t have been placed with a more touchy-feely family, you know.”

“My upbringing wasn’t completely devoid of physical con­tact. Our caretakers know some touch is required for proper brain development.”

“Right. And I bet they didn’t hold you a second longer than they had to. Look, you don’t have to get defensive. I’m just glad I finally understand why you are . . . well, the way you are.”

He grinned and shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Okay, then,” she said. “Prove it.”

The gleam behind his eyes said he welcomed the chal­lenge. “How?”

“Touch me.” That gleam died real fast, just as she’d expected. She was obviously right, so why wouldn’t he admit it? “Go on.” She leaned closer and held her palm forward. “What’re you afraid of?”

He hesitated and then reached out for her with a tentative hand. But instead of lacing his fingers among hers, he wove them through her hair. Chills danced across the back of her neck, and she closed her eyes automatically.

“I admit physical affection is foreign to me,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean every contact is torturous. See? I’m touch­ing you right now.”

“Not quite.” Hair didn’t count. She wanted to feel him on her skin. But when Cara opened her eyes and geared up to tell him, she saw a tall shadow move in her periphery. She flinched back with a gasp.

“What’s wrong?” Aelyx’s gaze followed hers to the wooded area opposite the field.

“Someone’s out there.”

“Are you sure?” His body tensed visibly as he scanned the vacant landscape.

“Positive.” She pointed to the woods, where a group of low branches stirred.

The shadowy figure was gone, but she’d seen him. The chills from her neck spread downward, raising goose bumps on her arms. Someone was still watching them. She could sense it.

“Let’s go,” Aelyx said, wasting no time in standing and gathering his things.

“Yeah.” Cara pushed to her feet and started in the other direction. She tried telling herself it was probably just a hiker out there, but that didn’t stop her from quickening the pace.