Paranormals (Book 2): We Are Not Alone (31 page)

Another element of Taalu physiology that blew Steve’s mind, but one that was invaluable toward the expedience of the settlement’s construction: No waste disposal necessary. The Taalu had neither an anus nor a urinary tract (though the tight fit of Shining Star’s uniform, as Shockwave pointed out — literally — proved that the Taalu males did have penises). On top of evolving as herbivores, their digestive systems were almost one-hundred percent efficient, with the small amount of remaining (thankfully-odorless) waste secreted from their sweat glands. The downside to this superior digestion was that the Taalu were more susceptible to toxins from spoiled food — if they didn’t vomit it up, it went straight to their bloodstream, as diarrhea was simply not an element of their biology. As such, they would require the freshest native fruits and vegetables possible, with special care to eliminate—

Steve’s thoughts were derailed in an instant as a streak of light dashed across the sky ... but he was tempted to smack himself on the forehead when he realized it was just a shooting star. Of course, to be fair, he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, visually, when the ships arrived.

“It will take me some time,” Callin said suddenly, his voice low in reverence as his gaze swept from where the sun had recently set to the stars above, “to get used to your night sky.”

“Really?” Steve replied in surprise, pitching his tone to match Callin’s. “You’ve been up in
space
. I would’ve thought that the stars were ... I don’t know, kind of mundane to you.”

“I’ve traveled the stars,” Callin conceded, “but I spent most of my life on Taal-ceky. That rock was more hideaway than home. The prime field which covered our only community was opaque — a necessary compromise against the artificial star illusion my grandfather built. Our days, our nights ... our sky was always a dull, uniform grey. I’m told those born on Taal itself had a difficult time with that. And your horizon ... I don’t know if I’ll ever adjust to seeing a horizon so ... so
far away ..
.”

Steve marveled at these observations he had never considered. He kept thinking in terms of how fantastic this was for him and his fellow Earth natives; he was surprised every time Callin expressed feelings in the reverse.

Since Callin had broken the silence first, Steve decided to indulge his curiosity. “Are you going to be able to see the ships before they arrive?”

“I’m familiar enough with the veil to recognize its flaws.”

“No, I meant in the dark, with your eyes covered like that.”

Callin looked at him. “Covered like what?”

Steve pointed at his eye-mask. “By that. You’re basically wearing sunglasses at night, right?”

Callin appeared confused at first, and Steve was on the verge of explaining what sunglasses were, when Callin suddenly smiled in understanding and reached up to peel away the left side of his eye-mask. He stretched it out and turned his head so that Steve could see through it from his perspective.

In spite of its jet-black appearance from the outside, the mask’s fabric was almost transparent from the inside. In fact, in some ways, the surrounding night was a touch clearer through the mask.

“Wow ...”

Callin smiled again as he folded the eye-mask into its proper place. “Loosely translated, that’s what I said when Larr first showed this to me. It’s a camouflage fabric he used in his espionage days. It was his idea for me to start wearing it.”

“... as a mask?”

“Not as you mean it,” Callin explained. “When I push my energy sheath to brighter levels, my own aura can have a blinding effect on
me
 as well as those around me. Did you notice how the darkness was lifted through the lens?”

Steve nodded.

“The fabric cuts down on the light contrast, even when I’m the source. It’s not perfect, but it’s extremely durable and allows me to see clearly that much longer than I would otherwise.”

“So ... it isn’t a mask after all,” Steve concluded. “It really is more like goggles.”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” he said, feeling a little silly in retrospect. Another erroneous assumption on his part, all because he was so excited to have inspired another superhero. “I’ll call them goggles from now on.”

“Oh, no,” Callin responded in mild surprise. “If it passes for a mask from your perspective, please refer to it as such.” When Steve cocked his head in confusion, he explained, “Aside from everything else that has transpired, I must admit that your enthusiasm for what you do has truly inspired me. Since we do hope to settle here permanently, I am interested in pursuing, with your guidance, this role of ‘superhero.’ So ...” He reached up to his left eye again, this time for a simple tap on the fabric. “... this is a mask.”

That put the smile back on Steve’s face in a heartbeat. His spirits soaring once more, he asked, “What will they look like? The ships, I mean. You mentioned the ‘veil’ has flaws. So the ships won’t be invisible?”

“Not entirely, no. You will be able to see a distortion, especially when you know to look for it. The veil was engineered to mask ships among the stars, and even out there it is primarily aimed at avoiding remote detection, such as your radar. Down here, with the ground and clouds and directional lights behind us, the veil will not work nearly as well.”

“Huh. That’s kind of funny ...”

“How so?”

“Well, I mean, our government’s going to be all over your technology, as much as you’ll let them. But I think the one that probably had them drooling the most was the idea of an invisibility screen. The President will probably be disappointed when he finds out that’s not really how it works.”

“Will he now?”

Vortex and Shining Star looked at each other, then chuckled together. It was a cool bonding moment, but it didn’t get to last for very long.

“Excuse me ...?”

Steve and Callin turned to find Powerhouse standing nearby. The big guy was hunched over, looking very meek.

“I was wondering if I could talk to Shining Star. Just for a second.”

“Of course,” Shining Star answered.

Powerhouse came a few steps closer. “I, uh ... I wanted to apologize for how I acted the other night.”

“I see,” Shining Star replied. “Thank you, but it’s not necessary. Vortex explained—”

“No, I mean
I
wanted to apologize.” Powerhouse shuffled a bit, his eyes mostly downcast. “It was nice of Vortex to talk to you when I was too shook up, but that’s not the same thing. It’s not enough.” He stopped fidgeting and finally met Shining Star’s gaze full on. “The way I treated you was really out of line. And unfair. If you say you don’t know what your grandfather did— I mean, might have done, then I believe you. And even if he was involved, that’s not
your
fault.” He spread his hands in a show of helplessness. “This whole paranormal thing is nothing I ever wanted, but that’s not your fault, either. And you’ve been really gracious about everything, especially making sure I got to be a part of ... you know, all this.”

Shining Star nodded in his natural head-bobble, then repeated the gesture in human fashion.

“So I wanted to say that I’m sorry. And to thank you.” Powerhouse stepped forward again, closing the remaining gap as he extended his open hand. “And I hope we can maybe be friends from now on. You seem like you’d make a good one.”

Recognizing the motion, Shining Star gripped Powerhouse’s hand in his own, and they shook. “I would like that, too.”

Powerhouse opened his mouth to say more, but Steve cut him off, pointing up into the sky. “Excuse me. Callin, is that what I think it is?”

Shining Star looked up and smiled. “Yes. That is what you think it is.”

So excited he got goose bumps, Steve said, “Powerhouse, go get the others.”

With a two-finger salute from the temple, Lincoln took off.

Okay
, Steve ordered himself.
Be cool, just be cool. Be cool!
It became his private mantra as the ships approached.

Shining Star was correct that the ships were not actually invisible, but he was still being modest about the technology. Even with Steve’s enhanced vision, the ships were difficult to make out. They were coming in from almost directly overheard, and as they drew closer, Steve could make out seven distinct, triangular shapes, with the lead ship coming in ahead and below the others.

“What’s the name of your mother ship?” he murmured to Callin.

“ ‘Mother ship’?”

“The one out front. The bigger one.”

“Ah. We don’t name our vessels like most other races, we number them. So we just call it ‘One.’ But its original construction code translates as ‘Grand Refuge One,’ if that helps.”

“
Refuge One
...” Steve said, but he was so distracted he could barely hear himself.

As the ships descended, and as Callin predicted, their underbellies began to reflect the ground below like a fun house mirror. The veil, which looked super slick far above, was beginning to look like the Predator’s cloak in the original Schwarzenegger movie — better than anything Earth technology could pull off, but hardly “invisible.” Was the image of the ground reflected up to the top of their hulls? It would have to be ...

Still descending, the seven ships rotated in place while maintaining the same arrowhead formation, so that they were no longer approaching nose-down, but would come to land like pyramids on their side. Steve was surprised when he realized that there was no visible thruster exhaust, nor was there any noise to speak of — a mild thrumming, but the wind alone was almost enough to drown that out. Talk about superior technology!

Something else caught Steve off-guard: They weren’t quite as big as he’d imagined. The biggest ship,
Refuge One
, looked to be about the length of an American football field from its pyramidal tip to its fatter base, and if that estimate was correct, the others ran about eighty yards in length.

“Callin, how many of your people did you say are onboard?”

“Between all seven ships, roughly five thousand.”

Steve continued to appraise the ships’ sizes as they ceased all forward movement and lowered toward the ground — again, with virtually no sound. “Aren’t they a little ... cramped?”

Shining Star was quiet for a moment, then said, “Most of them are asleep.”

“Oh. Oh!” Steve’s excitement jumped again at yet another new discovery. “You mean, like, suspended animation? Cryogenic freeze? Something like that?”

But Callin’s somber reply dampened some of his exhilaration. “No. We didn’t have the necessary materials and equipment for cryogenic units when we left Taal-ceky. Our time was short, so we had to compromise with stasis fields.”

“Oh,” Steve responded, not sure what to make of Callin’s sudden drop in mood. “So, how do those work?”

Again, Callin’s answer was dispirited, even sad. “Stasis fields do not fully arrest the body’s metabolism. It leaves the subject in more of a coma than a suspended state.” He released a heavy sigh. “They’ve been in a deep sleep, fed intravenously and with their muscles stimulated on a regular basis to prevent atrophy. Only a few of us have been awakened on rotating shifts, to monitor the ships’ functions.”

“But ... if they’re just asleep ... wouldn’t that mean—?”

“They have been aging normally throughout our journey.”

Oh.
“How long has it been since you left Taal-ceky?”

“In your time ... about four years.”

Steve imagined waking up tomorrow to learn he was now in his mid-twenties.
Shit.

Fortunately, the stygian mood ruptured when Shockwave exclaimed from behind them, “Son of a bitch!
That
ain’t somethin’ ya see every day, ya know what I’m sayin’?”

“Yeah, Shockwave,” Steve said as the ships touched down in the lighted area before them. “I know exactly what you’re saying.” He glanced around to see a lot of shared excitement — except for Pendler, whose furrowed brow, in spite of the night’s chill, glistened with sweat in the settlement lights.

“Come,” Callin said with a broad gesture. “I’ve been looking forward to introducing you.”

The group followed Shining Star as he led them to
Refuge One
. A hatch was opening on the starboard side, and Steve had to consciously pace himself so that he didn’t rush past Callin in his excitement.

Two elderly men emerged from the open hatch — a weird sight, given that the ship’s veil was still in place. They had the same slender builds, narrow heads, and odd, dark hair as Callin, but while one rather plain old fellow was about Callin’s height, the other man was a lot taller, with a craggy, scarred face that suggested he’d received a few too many punches in his youth; even stooped a bit with age, Steve guessed that he would stand taller than Powerhouse when they came together. Both men also wore small crystalline masks over their nose and mouth.

As they stepped out, the tall man called out in that Russian-sounding language of theirs.

“
Their
language, please,” Callin replied with a smile. “I assume you both completed your phrenic impressions?”

“It took all damn day,” the tall man grumbled, but he said it in accented English.

“Only the two of us so far,” the other man said. “Della and Charl will have to use translators for now.”

“They’re awake?”

“In process,” the tall one answered. “They’ll need a bit. You know what it’s like.”

“Excellent. Now ...” Callin turned so that he was standing between the two groups. “These,” he said to the humans, “are my two most trusted advisors, and friends.” He gestured to the tall man, “Lord Larr ...” then the other, “and Chief Naltin.”

Larr performed one of their bobble-headed nods, and Naltin said, “We thank you for the opportunity you are giving us.”

“The opportunity
we’re
giving
you
?” A heartbeat later, Steve realized he said that out loud, and
too
loud.

The others chuckled, even Pendler, and Shockwave shook his head.

Trying to recover some dignity, Steve stood tall and declared, “On behalf of Planet Earth, we welcome you. We accept your thanks, and return our own — until we met the Shining Star, our world ... our world was a much more insular place.”