Yesterday's Gone: Season Six (9 page)

“I appreciate your honesty, Mr. Roberts. But I have a third theory. Something that I’m disappointed to find you’ve overlooked.”

“What’s that?”

“There’s another influence out there, and it’s spreading, infecting the humans and Ferals alike, sullying them.”

“Another presence?”
 

“It calls itself The Light,” Desmond laughed, “seeing itself in some good versus evil battle with the Ferals, or as it called us, The Darkness. But such terms as light, dark, good, evil — none of that means anything. Those are human constructs, and this …
Light
… has been tainted by the very humans it strives to
protect.
”

Paul leaned forward. This is the first time he’d heard anything about Light or Darkness. And he also noticed that Desmond had referred to the Ferals as
us.
Was he one of them? “Are you saying there’s another alien species out there?”

“We started to think the same. But it has been tainted, ruined. Trying to thwart our destiny for reasons I can’t fathom.”

“
We?
Are you saying you aren’t the same, you aren’t an Eternal One?” He called him that, as the Pruhm didn’t like being referred to by their proper names, preferring their chosen title.

Desmond smiled. “I am not Pruhm. I am also not The Light nor The Darkness. I am something that’s never been, but has always been.”

Paul didn’t want to say he had no fucking clue what Desmond was saying. Fortunately, he didn’t need to.
 

“I am self-aware evolution.
We
, with the human’s help, can do what all matter, what all
life
, yearns to do — realize our full potential. But in order to do that, we must work together to make it happen.”

“What do you need?” Paul tried not to think about their endgame. Did a single species mean that he, and Emily, would eventually be hosts for these fuckers? Or victims of this so-called evolution, made extinct?

“We need to find this source of
Light
and extinguish it once and for all.”

“How do we do that?”

“That is what I’m going to show you. It begins with a child who is no longer a child. His name is Luca Harding, and he is the biggest threat to this new world.”

* * * *

CHAPTER 10 — Emily Roberts

Emily pressed her face to the shuttle’s right-side window, looking down at The Wastelands below.

She was surprised to find that the aliens hadn’t destroyed as much of The City as she’d imagined. In the stories she’d heard, from her father and others, the aliens had come down in their ships and blasted away major capitals around the world. She’d imagined The Wastelands as nothing but smoldering piles of rubble, maybe a few buildings poking up from it.

But most of The City was actually intact. Many of the buildings were overgrown with vegetation, and some were missing entire sides, while a few leaned to the side as if a giant had started to tip them over then got distracted and walked away. Pipes had burst through some roads while other roads had huge gaping holes that went down deep into darkness. The shuttle soared overhead, sending a herd of deer racing away from what had once been a large parking lot where cars now rusted and rotted forever.

“Wow,” Emily said, smiling at the sight below. Despite the destruction, there was something promising in what remained — signs of life fighting back, reclaiming what the aliens had tried to destroy.

Sutton, one of three other students chosen for the tour, pointed at the deer and asked, “What are those?”

“Deer, I think,” Emily said to the blonde girl who’d never really talked with Emily before, despite their class being so small.

“Yes,” their teacher, Mr. Pace, said from the front of the cabin, “those are deer. The Wastelands are full of deer, dogs, pigs, and wolves. Without people, the animal population is out of control.”

“What about the Ferals?” Kenny said. “Don’t they eat the animals?”

Emily watched as the teacher’s expression changed from smiling and happy to something else. She couldn’t read it. Maybe he was annoyed by the question. Emily wasn’t sure if the teacher were among the hosts or a free person too. If he were an alien, perhaps he didn’t appreciate disparaging comments about the Ferals — despite the fact that everyone on The Island was told to avoid contact with the Ferals at all costs, that they were deadly aliens run amok.
 

Mr. Pace cleared his throat. “The aliens typically eat humans not animals.”

“Eww,” Sutton said.

Chris, who was sitting in the back of the shuttle, pushed his long brown hair from his face. “Better watch out, Sutton, or they’re gonna eat you next.”

Sutton raised her hand then extended her middle finger.

Emily laughed.

“Now, now,” Mr. Pace said. “None of us will be eaten.”

Chris murmured, “None of
us?
”

Emily looked at Mr. Pace, certain he must have heard the comment basically accusing him of being an alien. If Mr. Pace
had
heard him, he said nothing and didn’t react.

Emily turned and met Chris’s eyes. He was a year older then she, and known for causing trouble. Nothing too serious but annoying to the teachers — and charming to some of the girls. Emily was surprised he’d been among the students chosen for the tour. Not only was he always getting into one thing or another, he was obnoxious like most overly aggressive boys were.
 

Why is he even on this trip?

It was easy to see why the others were there. Sutton was pretty and popular — her father was a big shot at one of the mainland factories. Kenny was one of the smartest kids in class. And Emily, well, Emily wasn’t sure why she was picked, either. She didn’t think of herself as especially smart. Perceptive, yes. But she’d never been particularly interested in learning history, remembering facts, or anything having to do with math. And nobody knew about her gifts.
 

Last year, Mr. Pace had called Emily’s father in for a conference because Emily was “daydreaming,” as he’d said, too much in class. She didn’t see it so much as daydreaming as much as thinking up songs she planned to write when class was out.
 

If there was one thing Emily missed in this world, it was that nobody would ever make another song, at least not in her lifetime. Emily remembered when she was a child and her mother would sing while rocking her to sleep. She’d sing in the car when they were going to preschool. As Emily grew up, she started singing in music class, plays, and church choir.
 

Nowadays, she sang only to herself, when she was alone.

Emily didn’t feel comfortable singing to her father. He was always so logical and wanting to discuss facts, history, and other stuff she had no interest in. The few times she did try to sing, he gave her a polite, “That was nice” but didn’t seem to appreciate it. She often wondered if her singing reminded him of her mother.

Dad hated talking about her.

Sure, he’d answer Emily’s questions, but he always cut the conversation short. For a while, she thought maybe her father didn’t like his wife. But then one night, following a fight she had with her dad, he’d drunk too much wine and said something she’d never forget.

“I wish the plague had taken me instead.”

He got up, went to his room, and they never spoke of it again.

Emily would always remember the words, and how much they hurt, but she wasn’t entirely sure why he’d said it, or what he’d meant. But the part of Emily that kept her awake at night suggested that her father was mad at her mother for dying. For leaving him with a burden. For having to take care of Emily.

“What is that?” Chris asked, voice raised in enthusiasm, yanking Emily from her Memory Lane.

She looked out the window and saw a huge parking lot. In the center of the lot, where the store — or perhaps a mall — should be, lay a block-wide crater in the earth, maybe ten feet deep, filled with what looked like vegetation-peppered rubble.

Mr. Pace said, “That’s one of the impact spots from our mothership’s lasers.”

“Wow!” Chris and Kenny said in unison.

The crater gave Emily chills, reminding her of everything the aliens had robbed from the world — and her. She hated how Chris and Kenny seemed to be in awe of the aliens’ destructive powers. Such boys. She wanted to throttle them.
 

Don’t you realize you’re oohing and ahhing over aliens killing our people? What kind of insensitive jerks are you?

Instead, Emily kept her mouth shut.
 

See, Dad, I
do
listen to your advice, sometimes.

She wished she’d come on the trip alone. While Sutton wasn’t being her usual bitchy self, Chris and Kenny’s enthusiasm over every sign of destruction got progressively worse as the field trip continued. You’d think they were touring enemy territory, not the place they’d all called home before The Fall. Surely, the boys had lost loved ones, maybe a parent or two, to the plague or aliens.

A sudden bang outside rocked the shuttle, causing it to shudder violently back and forth, sending the kids stumbling.

 
Emily sat and grabbed the straps in the back of her seat, sliding them over her shoulders.

“What’s happening?” Sutton asked, falling onto Emily.

Emily helped her to sit up and secure the straps around her so she wouldn’t fly into a wall.

The shuttle rocked harder. A horrible whirring burped from below.

“What’s happening?” Sutton repeated, this time shrieking.

Neither Mr. Pace nor the two Guardsmen up front said a word.

Mr. Pace strapped himself in and instructed the boys to do the same.

Then the shuttle lurched downward.

* * * *

CHAPTER 11 — Paul Roberts

The elevator ascended, and Paul’s mind stirred with possibilities of what Desmond might show him. Whatever the case, he felt safe — for the moment.

The elevator doors opened into an all-white hallway that stretched as far as Paul could see, ending in blinding white. The brightness of the light panels above combined with the sterility reminded Paul of a hospital. The floors were so shiny he could see their reflections as he, Desmond, and Wasterman started down the hall.
 

Every twenty feet or so, they passed white doors with no discernible knobs or electronic panels to open them. He hoped his chills went unnoticed.
 

What if they bring me into one of these rooms and lock the door?
 

Each door had a silver insignia of some sort, in an alien language Paul had seen many times but never understood. Were these names? Numbers?

Desmond stopped at the second door and waved his hand before it. The door slid open.
 

Four beds were neatly lined inside the white room, each holding a sleeping woman. They were under translucent blankets with hundreds of selvions blinking in different colors. It took a moment for Paul to realize their common denominator: they were all pregnant.

The door slid shut behind them.
 

“What is this?” Paul said.

“This is our solution to the lack of pure psyches to serve as host.”

“You’re going to implant them into babies?”

“Yes. We’ve already had four successful implantations. Though the children are still young, the process shows promise.”

“How … how many are there?”

“So far, thirty.”

“Thirty pregnant women? How? Why am I just learning about this?”

Desmond looked slighted. “This project is unrelated to your work.”

“You don’t need me to screen appropriate women?”

“Not yet. Perhaps in the next phase. Now we’re a bit less discriminating, seeking proof of concept.”

“So, why are you showing me now?”

“There are certain people in our council who feel we should consider using more locally sourced women to impregnate. And perhaps we should start younger.”

Paul was confused then did the math.

This is about Emily! This is a threat!

“What the hell are you saying?”

“Watch your tone,” Wasterman said from behind.

“Paul, Paul, Paul, I’m not saying we’ll do this to your daughter. What kind of monster do you think I am? I’m saying there are certain people here who believe that would be a good idea. I won’t allow it because you are an important member of our society. And your family is
our
family. Besides, she’s still a child.”

Paul stared at Desmond, wanting to knock the fucker’s smile from his face. But he had to throttle his rage.
 

 
“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I’m about to upset you. And I need you to be cautious in how you react.”

A cold sweat beaded Paul’s back. His heart throbbed. What the hell was Desmond about to say?
 

“What?”

“Your daughter has shown herself to be quite gifted.”

Oh, God, they know. What do they want with Emily?