“I didn’t know Lectus was such a dangerous place.”
“I know. The real estate people don’t tell you until you’re already here. Lectus is a very weird place. It’s not so bad these days, not like before.”
“What happened before?”
“Nothing. Forget it. It was a long time ago. I was just a little kid. My father managed to take us off the planet for the worst of it. He thinks it’s safe again now, but . . .” She glanced back at the bodyguards stationed on the balconies. “He’s not taking any chances.”
“Did anyone ever figure out who was causing the disappearances?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Strange. Want to come over to my house sometime?” I asked.
“When?”
“Tonight?”
“Sure. Eight o’clock okay?”
“Sure. It’s right over there,” I said, pointing.
“See you at eight.”
Etchenia arrived promptly, with two armed guards at her side. Dressed in a short, flowing white sundress, she looked unbelievable.
Chomper answered the door. “Phil, your girlfriend is here!” he bellowed.
“Shut up!” I said, bopping him on the head as I came to the door. “Hi!”
Etchenia left the guards outside and stepped in. My parents came down the stairs to see who had come in. “Oh, my gosh! Biggs and Julie Boreidae!” Etchenia gasped. She turned to me. “Why didn’t you tell me that’s your last name?”
“Because people act the way you just did,” I explained.
“Oh, sorry.”
“Not at all,” Mom told her. “We love to meet our fans, don’t we, Biggs?” She was using her silky movie-star voice.
“Can’t have enough fans,” Dad agreed spryly. His shoulders were back and his chin up. It was his public stance, the one he took out when he played the assortment of heroic types he’d built his career on. He was always cast as a brave policeman, a fearless astronaut, a noble superhero, a brilliant detective; whatever the role, Dad’s character always saved the day.
A worried expression suddenly swept over Etchenia’s face. “You didn’t tell your other movie-star friends about Lectus, did you?”
“No, but a story about it ran in The Daily Snitch,” Mom told her. “Why do you look so worried?”
“Lectus just isn’t as nice when it gets crowded,” Etchenia said. “That’s when the scary things start happening.”
“They have kidnappings here,” I said. “Disappearances, whatever you want to call it. Did you know about that?”
“No,” Dad admitted, looking concerned.
“There are other things, too,” Etchenia said, seeming very distressed.
“Like what?” Mom asked.
Etchenia wrung her delicate hands. “I really don’t want to talk about it. I should be going.”
“But you just got here,” I protested. “Tell us what the other scary things are.”
“I’m sorry.” She headed for the door, pulling it open. Her bodyguards closed in beside her and stayed that way as she hurried down the front walk.
“Maybe we should have bodyguards, too,” I suggested as I watched her go.
“We came here to get away from the need for bodyguards,” Dad reminded me. “Are you sure she isn’t a little . . .” He tapped his forehead. “You know . . . unreliable.”
“Phil’s girlfriend is wacky!” Chompers shouted gleefully from his spying place behind the couch.
“Shut up,” I told him. I turned back to Dad. “I don’t know. The thought occurred to me,” I admitted. “The whole bit about overpopulation bringing on the bad stuff is kind of strange.”
“It is. And I wouldn’t worry about overpopulation, anyway,” Dad said. “Right now I haven’t seen anyone for miles.”
“Speaking of overpopulation, I guess this is a good time to tell you,” Mom said, smiling. “Lectus is about to get a bit more populated. I went to the doctor this morning. I’m pregnant—with triplets!”
Every day the holographic TV showed footage of Gattus arriving at the Lectus transport dock—its four thick landing columns set firmly on the planet before the body of the transport settled down over them, its purring engine so steady and relentless—and then more and more new arrivals streaming off.
Remembering what Etchenia had said, I was alarmed at how quickly the population was climbing. Added to that, half the women in Lectus seemed to be pregnant. Mom joined a support group called Mothers of Multiples. “The meetings are more packed every time,” she reported one evening after returning from a meeting.
Dad was composing a spoken letter into his recorder, and he switched it off. “That’s because the news has spread that you’re there, Julie. Don’t forget you’re a movie star. They’ve all come out to see you.”
“I don’t know,” Mom disagreed. “There are some very full-looking women there and a lot of them.”
Felicia glanced up from the couch, where she was perusing a beauty magazine of some sort. “They’re probably stuffing themselves with padding just to see you,” she commented.
“Hmm. I’m not sure,” Mom murmured.
“Well, I’m sending a letter of protest to the agents who sold us this ranch,” Dad said. “They have oversold the property here. We’re being inundated with the very crowds we came to escape. I can only think they’ve dropped their prices sharply. How else can so many newcomers be able to afford it here?”
It was amazing how fast things were changing. Mc-Mansions began popping up everywhere you looked. One day there would be an empty field and by the next morning there would be a huge house on it. The roads were clogged with giant trucks dragging prefabricated homes behind them. They clicked together like enormous LEGOs.
I tried to get in touch with Etchenia by hanging around by her pool since I didn’t have her phone number. I couldn’t go to her front door because the guards wouldn’t let me pass by.
Finally, I did come upon her swimming in her pool. With my eyes on the guards watching from the balconies, I hopped the fence, hoping Etchenia wouldn’t give them her secret danger hand signal.
Etchenia swam to the edge of the pool, though she wouldn’t look at me. “Why did you run off that day?” I asked directly.
“When I heard your mother was pregnant, I knew it was starting again,” she replied.
“What?”
“The births, the crowding, I just can’t stand to live through it again. Even though I was a child, I still remember.” Her voice was climbing to a hysterical pitch.
“You really think the disappearances will start again?” I asked.
“I don’t want to talk about any of it. You’ll find out for yourself. My parents are planning to leave Lectus as soon as they can sell the ranch. Tell your family to leave, too.”
I nodded. “Okay. Does your father really think it’s not safe now?” I was on the trail of something. Maybe Etchenia had this irrational fear and her father knew it was all in her head. What if the bodyguards were just there to calm her fears?
“When Daddy married my stepmom, she wanted to come here and Daddy isn’t able to say no to her about anything. But now we’ve convinced her to leave, too.”
“Maybe whatever it was won’t happen again,” I suggested. “Your father thought it was safe to return. You were little. You could have misunderstood what was going on.”
“Maybe,” she conceded, though she looked unconvinced. “I’m not going to talk about it anymore. Please go away.” She dove under the surface.
I waited for her to come up again. I had so many questions. But she stayed under, swimming in circles, for a very long time.
Movement up on the balcony made me nervous, so I went back to my side of the fence and headed home.
That evening was warm. I was in the yard watching Chester and Chomper on the swings. Mom and Dad were in the house, and Felicia was out with friends. Friends were no longer in short supply. I had made a few myself but nobody that I really clicked with. No one el
se seemed to be worried about Etchenia’s strange disappearance stories, or had even heard of them, for that matter.
Coming across the yard, I saw a figure walking toward me in the dusky light. It was Etchenia. I noticed she seemed to wobble unsteadily. I ran to meet her. As I got closer I could see that she was frighteningly pale with dark circles under her eyes.
“What’s wrong? Where are your guards?”
“Passed out. Maybe dead. My parents, too.”
“What?” I asked incredulously.
“It’s started at the north end, closer to my place, but it’s headed your way. I had to come warn you.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Etchenia staggered into me, clutching my arm to support herself. “It’s in the air,” she said in a raspy voice. “Can’t you smell it?”
Lifting my head, I realized she was right—a perfumed smell, not completely bad, almost like a lily. And just as I became aware of it, I began to feel its effects, too. My lips and tongue were tingling; my eyes were burning. A swirl of building nausea was churning in my belly.
I looked over to Chester and Chomper. Both of them sat in their swings barfing between their legs.
I grabbed Etchenia’s hand. “Let’s get in the house. We can call an ambulance to go to your place.”
Etchenia could barely stand, so I put my arms around her shoulders and hurried over to Chomper and Chester. “Get in the house, guys. Come on.” They followed Etchenia and me, puking and stumbling all the way.
Inside, Mom and Dad were passed out on the living room couch. Settling Etchenia in a chair, I staggered toward the phone, but my head began to spin and then I fell to my knees. It was the last thing I remembered.
In the morning, I awoke where I’d fallen. Dad was just awakening, rubbing his head. He shook Mom, whose eyes slowly fluttered open. Chomper and Chester lay on the floor. I was relieved to hear Chomper mumble when Dad picked him up. Chester was harder to rouse but finally came to after several very scary moments.
I shook Etchenia but she was cold and lifeless. “Mom! Dad! She’s dead!” I shouted.
Dad sprang to my side and checked. “Oh, my God,” he said, and kept repeating it. Lunging to his phone on the table, he tried to call the police but the lines were busy.
That evening, I went with Dad to a town meeting at the Lectus Center. We were among hundreds of people as we filed into the auditorium. In the afternoon we had learned that Etchenia’s entire family was dead, including the bodyguards. Everyone at the north end had been wiped out. On our road, the people had only been sickened.
I sat down feeling sad and scared. I hadn’t known Etchenia well, but seeing her there, so still and pale . . . it was horrible. Every time I pictured it, I had to stop myself from shaking.
The head real estate agent on Lectus was a bald-headed guy with a British accent they called Sir Melvin. He was scurrying around shaking hands, trying to do some panic control. The last thing he wanted was a mass exodus off Lectus.
A panel was on the stage and one by one each of them gave his or her opinion about what had happened. A science fiction writer was sure it was an alien attack. The mayor of Lectus felt that some left-leaning newcomers had infiltrated the elite group and had launched a poison gas attack because of a grievance they felt against the massively wealthy of Lectus. An ecologist insisted that Lectus was emitting a natural defense to rid itself of the sudden onslaught of new inhabitants.
When they took comments from the audience, I raised my hand. “I was told that this has happened before.”
Members of the panel looked to one another, mystified by my comment. The mayor stood and scratched his head. “I don’t know who told you that, son, but I’ve never heard of it.”
Sir Melvin stepped forward. “This settlement has only been terra-formed for the last five years. It’s only in the last year that the planet has developed its own ozone layer and the tents have been removed, enabling Gattus to land safely.”
“Wasn’t there a settlement here ten years ago?” I asked.
“Absolutely not. The planet was uninhabitable then.”
I knew he was lying. But why? Probably because he thought that real estate sales would plummet if he told the truth about what had happened. At least that was my guess.
“It is a punishment from God!”
All eyes turned to the short, white-haired man in the rumpled black suit. I recognized him from TV and magazines. He was the astronomer Schroeder Peterson. Had it been anyone less highly esteemed, he would have been jeered off the floor. But, since he was the most renowned astronomer in the world, his startling words were met with hushed anticipation.
“A strange light has suddenly and unexpectedly appeared in the sky above Lectus,” he explained. “It does not seem to be a star or sun. Possibly it is an alien spacecraft of such immensity we cannot begin to fathom its size. My own belief is that we are being visited by God.”
“Why would you think it is God?” Sir Melvin asked respectfully.
“It is just my feeling,” Schroeder Peterson replied.
That night we returned home and found Mom and Felicia in Chomper and Chester’s room. My brothers were still feeling too sick to get out of bed.
Felicia had stayed at her friend’s house that night. When the strange gas came, they had all gone down into their basement, where there were no windows, and hadn’t become as overcome with the fumes as most of the other families around us. It was her good luck to have been visiting there at the time.
Dad and I told Mom and Felicia how, by the end of the meeting, Schroeder Peterson had convinced the group that the key to discovering what had happened lay in contacting the light. “They wanted a volunteer to go out in a space module and see if he or she can contact this strange light,” Dad told Mom. “No one volunteered. And then someone recognized me and wanted me to go. I guess because I always play the hero part they figured I really am one.”
“I hope you said no,” Mom told him.
“Of course I did. I sure wasn’t going to go and leave you here alone with the kids.”
I was actually a little embarrassed by the way Dad had told them that he absolutely wouldn’t go. I could tell the others were disappointed that he wasn’t living up to his big-screen image.
Dad continued telling about the light and was in mid-sentence when a deafening roar suddenly split our ears.
The window smashed open, spraying glass everywhere.
I clutched the bedpost with one hand and Chester with the other. A force was pulling us toward the window.
Felicia shrieked as she rose in the air. In an instant she was sucked backward out the window, bumping her head as she went.
Then Chomper began to float upward, flailing his arms and screaming.
Horrified, Mom and Dad reached out to him. Dad, holding on to the bedpost, caught Chomper’s ankle. Mom grabbed Dad around the waist and took hold of Chomper’s other leg.
I held tight to Chester as a powerful sucking force lifted me, too. It was as if I was hovering on a current of hot air.
Then came a whine so high-pitched I felt as though my head would shatter. Chester was sucked out of my arms just before I dropped abruptly to the floor.
The last sound I heard was my head banging as it hit.
When I awoke hours later, it was pitch-dark. “Dad?” I whispered as I slowly sat up. “Mom?”
It was eerily quiet. An awful terror gripped me. Had my entire family really just been sucked out the window?
The pain in my head was horrible, but I forced myself to stand and turn on a light.
What I saw made me shake.
The room was completely empty except for one bed that lay on its side. Hurrying to the window, I looked to see if any of them had been dropped to the ground, but no one was there.
I ran outside and thrashed the bushes, calling Mom and Dad, searching for my sister and brothers.
“Phil?”
It was Dad, bleeding and badly scraped, but alive. H
e pulled me into an emotional hug. “Thank God you’re okay,” he said. “Where is everyone else?”
“I can’t find them,” I told him, my voice catching.
Dad and I searched for hours. We joined a crowd of people also looking for their families who had been swept up by the hot wind. Occasionally, one of them would get lucky and find an injured loved one who had been swept into a tall tree or been blown to a rooftop. But Dad and I couldn’t find a trace of Mom, Felicia, Chomper, or Chester.
“What do we do now?” I asked Dad, exhausted and fighting back tears.
“I’m volunteering to go to the light,” he said. “If that light has Mom and my kids, I want them back. If I have to finally be a hero for real, then that’s what I’ll be.”
I realized I was sweating. Dad was drenched with perspiration as well. And I was squinting because the sky had turned a vivid, nearly blinding yellow.
I had a front row seat for the launch of the space module being sent to the strange light. The eager, fascinated crowd gathered at the site wearing black sunglasses to protect them from the strong rays of the light.
Dad was already in the module. As he’d walked out to the pad in his heat-proof spacesuit, he’d looked every inch the hero he always played. I shook his hand and told him how proud I was of him. “Don’t worry, Phil. I’ll be back,” he’d said.
As we waited for the module to take off, a kind of giddiness was overtaking the crowd. It was almost as though they were getting drunk on the light pouring onto us. “I wish I was going, too,” an elderly man beside me said.
“Me too. Take me to the light!” a woman shouted, lifting her hands toward it.
“Take me! Take me!” screamed another woman, arms raised, swaying rapturously. Soon everyone was yearning to go toward the light.
A man in a suit tapped me on the shoulder. “Would you like to come into the control room and watch the takeoff on our closed-circuit monitor?” he offered. I thanked him and said I would.