1942664419 (S) (6 page)

Dad walked beside me, eyes forward. He cringed every time Callup or the general said anything that sounded even remotely dangerous.

Please.
Like I’d have the guts to steal top-secret alien technology and bring it back to Earth. I wasn’t some kind of klepto or anything.

The final gate took the general’s key and Dad’s key turning in unison. After a green light flashed, the guard at the door leaned toward the wall as a beam of red light trailed down his left eye. When he straightened, a tone sounded, and the door opened.

Dang.
It had been easier to get into the White House.

The metal wall before us parted to reveal a circular room with a big hole in the ceiling. Well, at least it looked like a big hole. Maybe it was a telescope room in a past life, but now that opening was filled with thick, black liquid cascading to the floor like a shimmering ebony waterfall.

All those goofy feelings about getting advice from my idol melted away. I didn’t even tingle when Callup patted my shoulder and wished me luck. This was real. A spaceship. Me. Alone.
What the frig was I thinking?

I shivered, remembering the night when the world almost ended, and dozens of these waterfalls came down and touched the Earth—each one leading to a floating spaceship. I squinted, searching for the ship I knew hovered above, but I couldn’t see beyond the white tiles covering the ceiling.

Nematali appeared from the other side of the waterfall. “Are you ready for your journey, little one?”

“I guess.” What was I supposed to say? How does one ready themselves for a trip to outer space? I grasped my necklace, drawing on Mom’s strength. I could do this. Easy breezy. Like getting on a bus.

Wait. This wasn’t a bus. Was there air up there? Must be, since Nematali was breathing our air right now. But didn’t I need a helmet and anti-gravity training or something? Would the ride be all jiggly, like a plane? What if I threw up?

My abdomen did a big old
flipperoo
. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

Dad helped me take the books out of my bag. No need to worry about Algebra or Spanish up there, I guess.

He kissed my forehead. “Stay safe.”

Any other time I would have joked that no photojournalist ever played it safe, but I knew even walking toward that ship squashed every notion of safety. No matter what, my life was about to change. Not that it hadn’t already, but I was about to change from “that girl who found the alien” to “the one who walked onto a spaceship.”

This was huge. Huger than huge.

I inched toward the waterfall, Nematali by my side. I flushed straight down to my toes. If I didn’t get a hold of myself I was gonna yack all over the place.

Approaching the entrance to the ship was easier when David stood at my side. He calmed me, centered me, and helped me to focus. But he wasn’t here with me now. And this time I was actually getting on the spaceship, not just saying goodbye at the front door.

My heart pounded against my ribcage. Today was the day the world found out what Jessica Martinez was made of, and I refused to let anyone down.

Reaching out, I ran my fingers through the liquid waterfall. The chill stung, colder than I remembered. The liquid reformed as I pulled my hand free, no different than if I had splashed the water in a swimming pool, but this water was black, and flowing in a constant stream from the sky. I furrowed my brow and peeked around the side of the column. The liquid seemed to flow downward from every angle. It had to flow back up into the ship somewhere, didn’t it?

A slight tone sounded, as if from inside the column, and the water parted. Blinding yellow light filled the room. I turned to the people gathered behind us. Steven Callup knelt on one knee, taking pictures. I flinched, feeling for my camera nestled within my backpack. I should probably be hitting my own shutter button, but without knowing what I was about to step into, I wanted my hands free. I’d grab Old Reliable as soon as I—the water changed. It seemed to flow up, now.

“It’s time,” Nematali said, motioning to the light.

My gaze found Dad’s. He held perfectly still beside General Baker, his posture stiff. A solid, strong, rigid soldier ready for anything. His eyes told a different story, though.

“I’m coming back, Dad,” I whispered. “I promise.”

Then, taking the biggest breath of my life, I stepped into the light.

7

Heat engulfed me as if I’d treaded into the winds of the Sahara Desert, minus the bite of the sand. I closed my eyes and tried to back out, but a solid wall met my rear where the exit had been only a moment before.

“Nematali?” I reached out my hands, searching, unable to see in the blinding light.

“Relax,” her voice called, sounding farther away than was possible.

Relax
, she said. Easy for her to say when she knew what to do inside a stream of liquefied metal.

My stomach fell out from under me. The roaring heat swirled, spinning and sucking me up as if I were trapped in a sweltering, yellow tornado.

Then the suction stopped, dropping me like a sack of dog food. I crashed onto a warm, hard floor.
Ow
.

My pulse throbbed in my temples. That was, by far, the freakiest thing that had ever happened to me.

“Are you all right?” Nematali asked, not at all rattled.

Let’s see, I was just jettisoned through a boiling hot pipe, twisted around, and then regurgitated onto a tiled floor. Was I okay? “Umm, yeah. I guess so.”

“Excellent. Many trainees are disconcerted the first time they board an intergalactic craft.”

I tried to hide my shudder. Was this an intergalactic craft? Was I in a spaceship?

Shiny silver walls, maybe twelve feet high, rose around me. Sweat dampened my hair and tee-shirt as I struggled to breathe the humid air.

“Welcome to Intergalactic Research Vessel 87.”

Wow. A number. How original.

The ceiling glittered like water on a lake at night. Liquescent. Molten ebony. But other than that, nothing. I mean, shouldn’t there be flashing lights? Robots? Big windows to look outside at the stars? What was I supposed to take pictures of?

I pulled out my camera anyway and snapped a picture of Nematali. I tried focusing in on the wall behind her, but it came up a blur.

“I have been instructed to give you a modest tour,” she said. “Shall we begin?”

“Awesome.” I adjusted my backpack on my shoulder and raised the lens. As Nematali started to walk, I pressed the movie button.

Two points for my journalistic instincts, because the metal wall wavered as we approached. The surface buckled, then shined, shimmered, and began to flow like the waterfall we rode to get onto the ship. Nematali reached out, and the waters parted as if listening to her commands.

Un-freaking-real!
And I got it all on video.
YouTube, here I come.

We walked through the door, and the waters closed behind us, becoming solid before I could turn around and catch it on film. Shoot. But boy, was what I recorded going to be a treat for everyone back home. I tapped the end button and flagged the video. This one was definitely getting uploaded first.

A voice echoed through the stark, silvery-gray hallway. The words tinkled through the air like a Norwegian woman singing. Not that I knew what Norwegian sounded like or anything, but the voice sounded like singing.

Nematali stopped. “You might want to sit down.”

Huh?
We stood in a big hall of nothing. “Where should I sit?”

“Anywhere. The deck would be fine.”

Okaay
. I eased to the floor and crossed my ankles. Less than a second later, the hallway turned into the Tower of Terror ride at Disney World, but upside down. My butt riveted to the floor as g-forces shook through me. I looked up. Bad idea. The momentum smashed me to the side, and I ended up laying on the ground, bile rising into my throat until we jolted to a stop.

I gasped for air, my mind whirling.
What the frig happened?

Nematali offered her hand. “Are you all right?”

Still dizzy, I accepted her help and stood. The floor shifted slightly beneath my feet, not unlike the pine needles in the forest.

I tucked back that annoying stray bang on the side of my face. “Listen, we’re going to need to communicate better ’cause I have no idea what is going on, and all this is freaking me out.”

She grinned. “When we train our young, we never tell them what to expect. It reinforces the ability to be ready for anything.”

“Yeah, well, consider me ready for anything and warn me next time, okay?”

She nodded.

“What was that anyway?”

“Let me show you.” Nematali fluttered her fingers in the air, and the wall to my right liquefied. The shine faded to black, almost looking pixelated, before pinpoints of twinkling light appeared.

Holy shi
…
Wow.

Stars. Billions and billions of stars.

“Come, little one.”

She guided me farther down the hall. I tripped several times, dumbfounded over how big the galaxy seemed. How could outer space be right there, like I could touch it? Was it an illusion?

We turned the corner, and I froze. My camera nearly slipped from my hands.

Earth. Larger than I ever imagined it could be. The blue ocean stood out from green and brown landmasses, just like in the pictures you see from the space shuttles. But bluer. Scattered clouds covered parts of Canada.

Leaning toward the glass, I tried to find New Jersey. I could kind of see where the right shape formed along the east coast of the USA. I waved, knowing no one could see me, but it didn’t matter. My eyes filled with tears. I was actually on a space ship.

“Do you want to take pictures?”

“Oh yeah!” I lifted my lens and shot off several rounds. I took a few with Nematali in the foreground to get perspective on how big the planet looked. Then I turned the camera around for a few selfies. Amazing.

As we continued down the hall, I looked for corners to peek around; doors to open, but the hall seemed to go on forever. “Where are the people?”

“They are here, I assure you. They are just as interested in you as you are in them.”

The wall to our left shimmered, and the shaded forms of individuals came into view but faded out.

Whoa. “Are there people on the other side of that wall?”

“Many have gathered to see you. Most of our citizens have never ventured from our ships. A being from another culture is quite a treat.”

I pointed my camera at the now solid wall and snapped a photo. Got a big old picture of nothing.

Oh, well. It was worth a try. I slung the camera over my shoulder.

So, I was inside a big fish bowl. Was that why we seemed to be walking around in circles? So tons of aliens could get a good look at me? Creepy, but kind of neat at the same time. I was the first human most of these beings would see. Awesome. I held up my hand in a peace sign.

As we continued down the hall, Nematali barely looked up to see where she walked. Weird.

“So, umm, people have been asking me questions about Erescopians.”

She looked at me. “I’m sure.”

“Can I, like, ask you some of the stuff I couldn’t answer?”

“I will answer as best I can.”

Score! I raised my camera and hit the video button. “Okay, so, why don’t you guys eat meat?”

Nematali’s lip twisted. “In an age long past, our diet was quite similar to humans, but as our resources became scarce and livestock dwindled, we turned to a less violent existence. Now, even the thought of eating another animal is reprehensible to us.”

Hmmm. I never thought of eating bacon as a violent existence, but to each their own. “Can you explain the name thing to me? Why did the ambassador call me Jessica Natalie?”

“Our culture is mostly matriarchal. The female chooses the mate, and the male takes the female’s primary name next to his own. The children are given their personal name, followed by the name of their parents.”

“So David’s name is Tirran.”

“Tirran Coud. One never drops the name of the mother. It is considered an insult to the matriarch—similar to someone forcing their middle finger close to a human’s face. It is not done. His full name is Tirran Coud Sabbotaruo, Sabbotaruo being his father’s given name.”

“So, you guys do marry?”

“We mate for life if that is what you mean. But an Erescopian vow is much more permanent than what our research shows in humans.”

“What do you mean?”

“There is no word for divorce in our culture. Once you are coupled, you are connected until one of the pair dies.”

“Whoa. What if you decide you don’t like each other?”

She glanced in my direction again. “The bond compels you to mate. Pairs are not required to live together if they choose not to.”

I balked. The idea of closeness and touch seemed foreign to David. Did they not know love, either?

Nematali stopped suddenly, her gaze trailed over the wall to her left. “I’ve been looking forward to this.” She ran her fingertips through the wall. “Do you like children?”

“Me? Oh, yeah. I love kids. Why?”

A doorway formed, and she motioned me through. I froze, staring at the inclined, naked, violet heads of miniature Erescopians.

No. Way.

A few dozen children sat cross-legged on the floor, heads bowed. I snapped my gaping jaw shut. “May I?” I held up my camera.

“Of course.”

I clicked a few photos and then switched to the video setting.

A tall alien, mostly violet except for a few splotches of purple-blue on his midriff and legs, spoke a few words in Erescopian.

The children stood, keeping their faces down. One stepped forward. “Wheel-cum too ower skoool.”

Welcome to our school.
Whoa.

“Thank you.” The child kept his or her eyes down. “On Earth, we like people to make eye contact when we talk.” Keeping the camera steady in my right hand, I reached out with my left, raising the child’s chin.

The kid cried out, taking a step back. The teacher sprang forward, spinning the student away.