When Life Turned Purple (18 page)

Then the video cut and they were at the scene again, hovering over it with no sign of the purple things.

“This bit was taken from inside a helicopter,” Lia murmured.

The village was empty. Even the people who had fainted were gone.

Yet Russ saw no blood and no bodies.

The camera cut again and there was a newscaster walking around with a microphone, gesturing wildly at the huts. The camera peeked in. They were empty.

“Everyone’s gone,” said Lia. “There aren’t even any bloodstains, no oozing tissue, severed limbs, nothing. They’re just gone.”

Russ went cold. He tried to speak, but he couldn’t. He didn’t even realize he was shaking until Lia put her hands on his shoulders and rubbed them while gently saying, “Hey. Hey, there. It’ll be okay. I’ve got an idea of what’s going on and I think—I think everything’s going to be okay.”

“They ate them!” Russ finally managed to croak.

Lia gave him a tender smile and shook her head as she started to massage the place between his fourth finger and pinky. “No, we don’t think they did.”

Russ took a deep breath and felt a bit calmer. “So what the hell was that?” he said.

“Okay,” said Lia. “So the big theory that’s going around right now is that they were pushed into another dimension.”

“Oh,” said Russ, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to massage the tension out of it. “Is that all? Well, that’s reassuring—not.”

“Right,” said Lia. “That’s the unnerving part. We don’t know exactly where they are. Is that other dimension a good place to be? But the people who were sucked
inside
these bubbles—these pods—seemed to be okay. They were definitely alive and even seemed to be happy.”

“And what happened to them?”

“Same as with the cosmonaut. They floated up out of our atmosphere, hovered there a bit, then disappeared.”

“And no one knows why?”

Lia shook her head. “No one knows the common thread between them.” She paused. “What we do know is that one was a midwife who was also known for taking disabled children into her home. She’d keep disabled babies she’d delivered that weren’t wanted by the parents. But we don’t know who the others are. She was particularly well-known, so people were able to identify the satellite photo of her from within the pod. But the others? Well, there just aren’t enough witnesses remaining to identify them.”

“So what’s with the YouTube brain scan drive?”

“Everyone wants to know what the common thread is between the people absorbed into the pods. We see it has nothing to do with gender or ethnicity. So scientists decided to do brain scans, DNA analysis, and facial recognition imaging. If we can know why some people are selected for—for pod absorption, then that’s a big step forward.”

Russ frowned. “But the YouTube banner says to
save
people. How can brain scans save people?”

Lia gave him a rueful smile and shook her head. “They can’t. It’s just a way for analysts to make a diagnosis after the fact—after the next time it happens. You know—to use the facial recognition software to identify the people in the pods and then compare their DNA results and brain scans.”

Russ went cold again. “Oh, for—so they have no idea? Nothing? These things can come down again—anywhere—and we have no idea?”

Lia pursed her lips regretfully and shook her head again.

Russ shook his head and put his hands over his face. “Oh, no, I can’t take this.”

Lia stretched up on her knees and cradled his head and shoulders in her arms. Resting her cheek on his hair, she whispered, “It’ll be okay, Russ. I know this sounds crazy, but I—I’ve got a good feeling about all this. These things don’t seem sinister. They just don’t.”

He wanted so badly to believe her, but she was right—she did sound crazy.

“People are just disappearing—swallowed up into nothing,” he mumbled.

“That doesn’t mean they’re in a bad place,” she said, still speaking softly. “It’s like when people die. They don’t necessarily go to a bad place. Or dissolve into nothingness. They go to a happy Afterlife, they get reincarnated....”

Russ sighed. Here was the love of his life and she was crazy as a loon. But somehow, he still felt a little bit better.

He sat up and looked at Lia. Now her hands rested loosely on his arms as she gazed up at him.

“I don’t know how much time we have left,” he said. “But I’m going to start trying to get us an underground bunker. I saw ads for these things—built-in floor storage and bunk beds. Really nice, well-lit, airy-looking bunkers.”

Lia’s smile drifted away. “I don’t think it will help, Russ.”

“We at least need to try, baby. We’ve got nothing to lose by trying.”

“I know what you mean,” she said. “But these things aren’t—well, they aren’t following any known law of physics. I mean, they’re huge and unimaginably strong—like they’re not affected by our gravitational pull and they destroyed our Space Station and satellites, right? Yet they were able to descend at will and display astounding elasticity without smashing anything, without leaving depressions on the ground, even.”

“We still need to try,” said Russ, his jaw hardening.

Lia leaned toward him, her eyes like rich plums as she gazed up at him and sighed.

Russ contemplated her for a moment, then said, “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

She bit her lower lip, then sighed again. “Because I don’t know yet. There’s something, but I’m not sure of it.” She smiled. “But don’t worry. It’s good. I need more information. And I need to talk to God.”

Now Russ sighed. She really was totally bonkers.

But she was his. And he loved her.

Russ worked on ordering steel reinforcements for their walk-in closet, including a steel door. But he wasn’t the only one making a safe room in his home, which should have slowed things down. Luckily, the message he left at Steve’s number got to Steve.

“The truth is,” said Steve, “I’m fine hunkering down here until those UFO things finally leave. But after everyone’s gone, I’d still like someone to hang out with, so I’m helping out a couple of guys I’d like to pal around with after the End of the World—and you’re one of them.”

“Gosh, Steve,” said Russ. “I don’t know what the hell to say. I’m freakin’ touched.”

Evan was there when Steve came to install the steel with Russ. Evan had also ordered reinforcements for what he insisted on calling his “panic room,” but he was on a waiting list.

“The difference is,” he explained to Russ, “that I’ve got electricity and cameras and detectors and techie back-ups in there. All I’m lacking is the steel.”

Steve showed up with a hearty clap on Russ’s shoulder, a wave and “Hey!” to Lia, and a reluctant nod of his head to Evan.

As Russ and Steve got to work, Evan said to Steve, “The pods could come down at any moment. Is it really worth the risk to leave Bug-Out World?”

Steve pushed on the drill even harder as he worked. When he had a moment to pause, he said, “How do you know it’s not all a big hologram show put on by the government?”

Evan arched an eyebrow and pursed his lips as if impressed. “Hadn’t considered that one.” He shifted his weight to the other leg and said, “But if so, then what happened to all those people in India?”

“We got no proof that anything happened there. There’s no way to verify it. It wouldn’t be hard to fake an entire invasion event on camera.”

“A government conspiracy, eh?” said Evan.

“Listen—you want your brother to have a safe room or not?”

“Sure—”

“Then get lost.”

“Right-o,” said Evan and went back to the living room where Lia sat waiting on the couch.

Russ wanted to tell Steve that it was definitely real, but was afraid that Steve would just leave without finishing.

They chatted when it wasn’t too noisy and that’s how Russ found out that Steve wasn’t going for brain scans or DNA testing. “What’s the government gonna do with all that info?” Steve said. “I don’t trust them. They’re all trying to chip us anyway.”

“I think things have changed,” said Russ. “They’re trying to save themselves now.”

“Aren’t they always.”

A couple of weeks went by and the pods remained where they were in the sky.

Most airports limited their flights and anyway, people decided not to fly unless they had no other choice. Most of the Internet was down and what was left went slow. Cell phones were no longer reliable and cable TV went off the air. International phone calls, even from regular phones, became almost impossible. Gun sales, both official and on the black market, spiked and kept on rising. Delivery service slowed down and halted completely in some areas. Weather reports stopped. Looters took advantage of empty stores and homes. But most everything else worked and people joked about going back to the Eighties in terms of technology. People unaffected by looters viewed it as something happening far away, like a tribal war in some country across the ocean.

Russ realized that most people assumed that the brain scans and DNA testing were some sort of protection against a pod “attack,” like a scientific lucky charm of sorts. That assumption, combined with the sedatives and anti-anxiety meds, kept society running. Even the poorly stocked stores didn’t worry people; they just assumed it was a temporary convenience the government would fix in time.

But Russ stopped going to his store. He stocked the safe room that had once been their walk-in closet. Lia arranged everything that had been in the closet into cardboard boxes she stacked like shelves or onto hooks Russ nailed into the walls.

The next invasion came a week later and this time, it hit most of Brazil.

Again, no homes or buildings were destroyed, but most of the people were now gone. A remaining satellite only caught part of it; the rest was put together using footage from security cameras. Governments were pooling facial recognition technology and the images captured by the cameras and the satellite to figure out who was in the pods. Not many were absorbed, but analysts figured there were around fifty.

But a loud minority of people questioned the legitimacy of the footage.

“Anyone can piece a bunch of frames together,” stated one website. “And with today’s cinematic technology, it’s really not hard to create a movie like this!”

And, like Steve, some insisted that the pods were elaborate holograms. “Okay, we had memorials for the ISS astronauts and sure, we watched a couple of their family members talk about their loss with tears streaming down their faces, but how do we know those weren’t just actors? Or, if they were the family members, maybe they were lied to? Maybe the ISS malfunctioned or maybe the Russians took it down?”

They insisted that the cosmonaut inside the pod was a hologram too.

In Third World countries, governments now offered strong long-acting sedatives to their citizens for free. Then, as people started panicking and the governments or ruling militias started to feel threatened, they ordered people to take the sedatives while insisting that the medication contained special properties that would create “Pod-Compatible DNA.” Black markets worldwide surged with special pills and capsules promoting this claim, but which were found to contain only sugar, preservatives, and stabilizers. Yet many people died from the black market contraband because in order to give people the “feeling” that their DNA was changing, the more expensive creations contained SSRIs and hallucinogens and stimulants were added.

“As far as they can tell,” said Lia, “these people had double-G DNA. There were other differences too, including in their brains.”

Russ arched an eyebrow as he sipped a beer. “They got all these people tested?”

Lia gave a wry smile. “You can do that in dictatorships,” she said. “Just like how Mussolini got Italy’s trains running on time, dictatorships can be very efficient about the things they want to be efficient about. And if they want to get everyone’s brain scanned and their DNA tested, then it certainly happens.”

“Brazil is a dictatorship?”

“None of the countries south of the border have a democracy in the way Americans define democracy. I was using the term colloquially.”

“Hm,” said Russ. “But not because they care about their people.”

“No,” said Lia. “They want to figure out how to save themselves.”

Yet despite obvious instructions to media outlets to keep everyone calm, alarming reports gushed from the daily news.

“While officials still don’t know exactly what can snag you a ride in a pod,” chirped the blonde newscaster with a smile and a wink, “studies show that none of the people known to have been picked up for an intergalactic sightseeing tour have Neanderthal DNA.”

“What the—” said Russ.

“She’s such a tool,” said Lia. “This is a recipe for panic. Around 80% of the world population possesses Neanderthal DNA. Whatever
that
means.”

Russ frowned.

“Yeah,” said Lia. “For most of us, our DNA is around 2% Neanderthal.”

“So what does that mean?”

“No one really knows. It’s just that when scientists make a discovery, they like to crow about it. I mean, after all that hard work and all those pricey grants, they like to feel that it all meant something—especially to show those who gave them the grants. ‘Throw the dog a bone’ and all that.”

Then the US government refused to give people the results of their own tests. Once again, a passionate few made a ruckus about it, but most people obediently took their meds and spent a lot of time plugged into whatever gadgets mesmerized them the most.

But Lia managed to get hers and Russ’s DNA results.

Lia’s DNA resembled those of the people who’d been absorbed into the pods. But Russ’s DNA didn’t.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Russ with a lot more confidence than he felt. “The safe room is ready and pretty darn tight.”

Lia stared up at him, her eyes dark pools. “No, Russ.”

“Sure, baby. Anyway, who knows if where the pods take people is so great? Maybe getting pushed into the other dimension is better.”

“We don’t know for sure that that’s what’s happening,” Lia reminded him, still gazing at him.

Russ pursed his lips. Right. There was also the old “vaporize ’em” theory.

Russ ran a hand through his hair and shifted around as if he felt uncomfortable in his own body. “Look, I’ll just stick near the safe room until it’s all over and then—and then—I’ll make a new life with the survivors.”

“And what about me?” Lia asked, her words dropping out like plump raindrops on a quiet pond.

Russ cleared his throat. “You’ll be all right,” he said.

“No, Russ. I won’t be all right. Not without you.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and gazed at her. No one had ever loved him so much and so completely. And he also loved her. And though he didn’t like to admit it, he was afraid of the pods. It did feel like some kind of selection process was going on, but no one seemed to be able to figure out exactly how.

Except Lia. Somehow, Lia seemed to know something about what was going on.

“So what the hell can I do about it?” he said to her.

Lia tapped her fingers against her lips and her eyes shone up at him. “You can change your DNA,” she said softly.

He scowled. “What?” Then he turned away from her, shaking his head. “No way. That can’t—DNA is like—like—it’s permanent. It’s fixed. Like your eye color. They use DNA in decades-old unsolved crimes.”

Lia stood up and put her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest. “It’s not like what everyone thinks,” she said. “You can modify your DNA. You change a lot of things about yourself if you know how. You can change your brain, you can develop new neuropathways—and you can change your DNA.”

Now Russ turned around and cupped her face in his hands. “No kidding?”

Lia shook her head. “It’s science. But not a very well-known science. This branch of science is called epigenetics.” She sighed. “Traditionally, everyone thought that biological information moved according to a pre-defined order and only in one direction—from your DNA to your RNA to your proteins. But recent research shows that’s not true. Nutrition affects your DNA. Getting rid of toxins in your food and environment affects your DNA. Even your very thoughts affect your DNA.”

Lia took a step back as she continued, her hands becoming animated as she spoke, her eyes changing from dark plum pools to violet lights.

“You can activate or deactivate specific genes,” she said, “depending on what you put in your body, what you surround yourself with, and on what thoughts you choose to focus.” She leaned forward. “A person who truly changes himself changes his actual DNA. In other words, he or she becomes a truly new person, a genuinely different person than before.”

“That’s crazy,” said Russ. But inside, his heart gave a little bounce. If what she was saying was true, then—

Lia started pacing, her arms waving while her fingers arched as if trying to catch an idea by chance. “Let’s say that someone starts giving charity regularly—and I mean
real
charity, not to art museums and opera houses—but to people who really need it—sick children and their struggling families, poor people, elderly people who can’t afford a winter’s heating bills—and he or she gives it out of genuine compassion.
Not
just to feel good about themselves or so they can brag to the world about how holy and generous they are, but out of a sincere desire to help these people. Even if that person was miserly and cynical before, if he or she keeps giving for the right reasons, they actually become a different person at the
genetic
level.”

Russ crossed his arms, but pointed a finger at her. “So you’re saying that I can change my DNA to be compatible with the pods?”

Lia nodded. “I think so. Look, I don’t have a guarantee for myself either, but I’ve got a really good feeling about all this.”

Russ cupped his chin in his hand. “The thing is, I don’t know if it’ll really work. I mean, I won’t be doing stuff for the ‘right’ reasons. It’ll all just be because I want to avoid getting vaporized or whatever.”

Lia laughed. “That’s fine!” she said. “That’s actually really good that you’re aware of your motivations—most people aren’t. Most people really can’t tell the difference between
feeling
good by
pretending
to be good and actually
being
good.” Her arms relaxed at her side as she smiled at him. “And even though you’re starting out with, let’s say, not completely pure motives, maybe your motives will change. Maybe you’ll learn to care through, say, a thousand acts of caring—if that’s what you ultimately want. As they say, ‘Try it—you might like it!’ But being honest with yourself is key. And you are.”

“I really want to believe you—”