Cara didn’t like the sound of that. “You mean killed?”
“Of course. It is our way.”
Cara folded her hands and tried to keep her voice from shaking. “Can I request another form of punishment? I don’t think I could stand it if someone died because of me.”
“The individual in question would perish because of his or her poor choices, not because of you.”
Cara widened her eyes and opened her consciousness, allowing her Elder to feel the dread that crawled over her skin like a wet frost. Execution would punish me, too. Along with anyone who cares for the criminal. Dahla and I deserve justice, but there must be another way.
You humans and your sentimental notions of rehabilitation. Alona sighed. However, I suppose this is what we wanted—to infuse our progeny with a breath of humanity. She closed her mind and reflected for a moment. “I will give it some thought.”
At least that wasn’t a no.
“In the meantime,” Alona droned, “I’m ordering a change in your schedule. Your talents, as much as they’re appreciated, are wasted in the nursery. Each day after your morning calisthenics, I want you to report here and join the colony development panel. As our resident human, I believe your input will prove useful in creating a charter.”
Cara drew a hopeful breath. “You want me to help form a government?” Her world studies teacher back home would be so proud.
“Yes.” Alona studied her. “I sensed hesitation within you—a disruption in your resolve to join the colony.”
Heat infused Cara’s cheeks as she wondered what else she’d let slip during Silent Speech. Hopefully nothing too embarrassing.
“The choice is yours, but it is my hope that you’ll stay.” Though it was hard to tell with the older generation, Alona sounded sincere. “I can’t promise a governing body akin to your America, but I give you my word that your concerns will be heard and addressed.”
“Thank you,” Cara said, and meant it. Democracy didn’t exist here, and for The Way, who’d ruled with an authoritative hand for thousands of years, this was a big step. “I’m honored by this opportunity.”
“Your morning notification will tell you where to report.” With a two-fingered salute, Alona dismissed her. “Please send in the guard on your way out.”
Cara returned the gesture and did as she was told. Uncertain of whether she should return to the Aegis, she scanned her wrist at the station by the front doors.
“Cah-ra Sweeney,” the computerized voice said. “You have no notifications.”
Business as usual, then. But after the bloody scene in the Aegis lobby, it was probably best to lay low until the guard announced her innocence and began an investigation. She walked back to the Aegis and snuck inside her room only long enough to retrieve her com-sphere, then jogged into the woods to call Aelyx.
She wouldn’t normally bother him at three in the morning, but she couldn’t wait to tell him what had happened. They talked for nearly an hour about everything from her breakthrough in Silent Speech to her close call at the Aegis. When they said good-bye, she felt lighter by five pounds.
Late that night, energized by fresh optimism, she uploaded a new blog post.
TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 4
The Lone Invader
Well, it’s official. Now that my brother’s gone, I’m the only human in this galaxy.
But don’t cry for me, earthlings. It’s kind of empowering to go it alone. I’m like a one-woman Lewis and Clark, scoping out this foreign terrain and reporting back to you in digital glory. If you’re considering joining the colony, think of me as your personal trailblazer. In fact, I’ve just been appointed to the colony development panel! What does that mean? That I’m doing important work here—representing your interests and advocating for the best lifestyle possible.
I want you to know what to expect, so here’s what I’ve learned so far:
• The colony is set on a lush, balmy island with fertile soil for growing crops. It’s fairly isolated, but don’t worry—I’m negotiating for access to the main continent by way of shuttle.
• Not sure what to do with your life? The L’eihrs will give you an aptitude test, then supply your ideal job. I’m still working on more personal choice, but if nothing else, know that your occupation will likely suit you to a T.
• If you can’t stand too much idle time, you’ll enjoy the highly structured way of life here. Everyone on the colony will contribute to its success, which means you’ll be a part of something larger than yourself. Hard work has its rewards.
Stay tuned for more tidbits about colony life. I’ll collect as much data as possible before I come home to visit. Only fifty-ish days to go!
Posted by Cara Sweeney
In the days that followed, a fleet of guards began interrogating every living being over the age of ten inside the Aegis. But halfway through the campaign, Dahla awoke from her coma and pointed her finger at Professor Helm, who promptly confessed to the attack. Since then, he’d been detained in the guard barracks, since prisons didn’t exist on L’eihr and The Way hadn’t quite decided what to do with him.
The entire Aegis was perplexed by the news…including Cara.
She knew Helm wasn’t her biggest fan, and yet she couldn’t picture the mild-mannered professor wielding a blade like a common street thug. Then there was the issue of Dahla’s poisoning. Helm had been nowhere near the dining hall the morning she’d collapsed. Maybe he’d snapped…or maybe someone had used mind control to orchestrate the confession.
If that were the case, only two suspects remained—the only students capable of manipulating a mental query. Jaxen and Aisly. But for the life of her, Cara couldn’t figure out a motive. Neither of them had a reason to want her expelled or dead, and thanks to their positions in The Way, accusing them of the crime would amount to treason.
So with her hands figuratively tied, she avoided them like a bikini wax and focused on her duties as Chief Human Consultant—her official title, not that she was bragging or anything.
Cara was a halfway decent politician, if she did say so herself. So far, she’d convinced the panel to allot the colony six shuttles for emergency use and establish one full day of rest per week. Not perfect, but a Kong-size leap in the right direction. When she’d mentioned the democratic method, the Elders had practically broken out in hives, but she would wear them down. She just needed more time.
However, Cara was on a different mission today—one Aelyx had assigned her—which explained why she was currently standing outside the front doors of the capital’s reference building, repeatedly scanning her wrist to gain entry. No matter how many times she thrust her nano-chip beneath the dancing gray beam, the doors refused to part. Likely because the system knew she didn’t belong there.
Her failed attempts at entry must have set off an internal alarm, because a guard ambled up from the front walkway. Without offering a greeting, he motioned for her wrist while pulling a handheld scanner from his pocket.
“Mahra,” Cara said, offering her hand, palm up.
He nodded a return hello and swept his device over her skin. A tinny voice from the speaker informed him, “Cah-ra Sweeney. Resident of the first Aegis, l’ihan to Aelyx of the first Aegis. Chief Human Consultant. No alerts.”
Cara perked up at the mention of her title. “I’m here to see Larish,” she told the guard in L’eihr. “He’s a scholar in this building, but I can’t seem to get inside. Can you help?”
He didn’t seem enthused about the prospect of letting her in, but he opened the doors and led her to an office on the second floor.
The room looked more like a reading lounge than a formal workspace, with several deep-cushioned chairs positioned around a data table, its surface displaying multiple windows of text and images. A middle-age man—Larish, she presumed—bent over the screen, tapping it to enlarge a photograph of a red planet.
“Larish,” the guard said, extending two fingers in greeting. “Cah-ra Sweeney requests congress with y
ou. Do you accept?”
Congress? That sounded dirty, like a line from a Victorian romance novel. Cara lifted her data tablet toward Larish, who stared at her in obvious bewilderment. She smiled brightly and bounced on her toes in her best fan-girl impression. “I absolutely loved your thesis on the primate connection,” she said in L’eihr. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to ask you a few questions.” Being human, her interest in the topic of shared lineage shouldn’t raise any red flags.
Like many of his generation, Larish’s eyes betrayed little emotion, but his posture lifted in tandem with the corners of his mouth. It told Cara she’d hit the bull’s-eye. Academics loved nothing more than discussing their theories—especially with those who agreed with them.
“Please,” he said in meticulous English, indicating the chairs opposite him. “Be my guest.”
Cara thanked the guard for his assistance and took a seat. “I can’t believe I’m sitting across from the Larish. Your work is brilliant.”
He waved her off, his smile widening. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Thanks for making time for me.”
“Anything to assist an eager young mind.” Larish sat back and crossed his legs at the ankles. “How can I help you?”
Cara didn’t want to alarm him by leading with questions about the Aribol, so she started small. “When did you realize the old legend was wrong—that your ancients were actually human?”
“As soon as we made contact and accessed your electronic databases,” Larish said. “Humans have unearthed fossils of Homo Erectus that date back more than a million years. On L’eihr, we’ve found no remains that predate the ancients. Some of our anthropologists argued that L’eihr’s mild climate and predominant water mass were to blame—”
“Because remains decay faster in warm temperatures,” she interrupted. “Plus, weren’t storms a big problem before you controlled the weather?”
“Yes,” he said, sounding impressed. “Which would have destroyed even more evidence…but surely not all of it.”
“Totally.” She had been on board from the beginning. Now to get to the good stuff. “I’m also curious about the Aribol—you know, the aliens who kidnapped all those ancient soldiers and carried them here?”
“A name I assigned to them based on hearsay, you understand…”
“Of course.”
“What would you like to know?” he asked.
She leaned forward and caught her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. “I can’t stop thinking about them. I mean, if they had the technology to abduct a whole legion of warriors thousands of years ago, what’s stopping them from doing it again—here or on my planet?”
Larish lifted a shoulder. “Nothing, I suppose. But they haven’t, which is telling.”
“What do you mean?”
He shifted in his seat, pausing for a moment while folding both hands in his lap. “I don’t have any evidence to support this, but I believe the Aribol are tinkerers. Behavioral scientists on an intergalactic scale. They like to seed species across multiple galaxies to see how each one develops uniquely in a new environment. I don’t think they wish us harm. But before I can convince you, I need to explain something about our ancients.”
She nodded for him to go on.
“To say they were merely brutal would be a flagrant understatement,” he told her. “I’ve studied human history, and the ancients who ruled our seas rivaled that of your most savage societies. Men and women fought alongside one another while the injured and elderly remained with the younglings. Even children were trained in combat. I’ve read stories of boys and girls as young as ten doing battle.”
“Wow.”
“Indeed,” he said. “Even rulers occupied the front lines. In fact, one of our most infamous queens died in a bloody battle, along with her consort. It was rumored she was with child at the time of her death, and several years ago, scientists confirmed it.”
“Oh, I heard about that. Their tomb was on the colony, right?”
“Very good.” He gave an approving tip of his head like a proud teacher. “The remains were brought to our genetics labs when I was a youngling, but as my path didn’t follow a scientific bend, I wasn’t able to study the data. Anyway, the queen was in her second trimester when she perished.”
“I had no idea the ancients were so hard-core.”
“And it stands to reason their ancestors were just as savage when they were abducted from Earth. Imagine what the Aribol faced when they teleported these warriors aboard their craft.” He sniffed a dry laugh. “It must have been utter bedlam.”
Cara imagined the scene: dirty, blood-streaked warriors wielding primitive weapons against their kidnappers, fighting to the death to regain their freedom.
“The fact that those ancients survived,” Larish said, “implies the Aribol are not a violent race. Otherwise, they would have simply terminated the legion instead of re-homing them.”
Cara supposed Larish had a point, but just because the Aribol were originally lovers and not fighters didn’t mean they were passive today. Look how much the L’eihrs had changed during that time. “What if they got curious and decided to check up on L’eihr?” she asked. “How do you think they’d go about it?”
Larish let out his version of a hearty laugh, more like a snicker by human standards. “Very carefully, I imagine.”
Cara didn’t want to use the term probe, so she chose her next words carefully. “Do you think they might send a robotic device to gather information about us?”
“Like a probe?” he asked.
So much for avoiding red flags. “Yeah, I guess.” She shrugged casually. “If you want to call it that.”
“Anything is possible. They certainly have the technology to manage it.” He cocked his head to the side and considered her in a way that warned he’d grown suspicious. “Are you worried for your safety or that of your kind?”
“Uh…” She thought fast. “Yes, a little. Until a couple of years ago, I didn’t know life existed beyond Earth, and it’s scary to think an advanced race might swoop in and kidnap me.”
Larish offered a comforting smile. “You needn’t be concerned. The odds of a repeat abduction are infinitesimal. The Aribol have lain dormant for thousands of years, so I doubt they pose any threat to us.”
That was because he didn’t know about the probes. Someone—either the Aribol or another advanced race—had taken an acute interest in this world, and until L’eihrs discovered otherwise, it was a good idea to assume the worst and hope for the best.
“Does anyone know what the Aribol look like?” she asked, pointing to the data table. “Are there any sketches or photographs of them?”
“Only about a hundred.” He tapped the screen and spoke some cryptic commands, bringing into view dozens of animated sketches that depicted everything from furry purple monsters to green-tentacled squid. “The only accounts we have of the Aribol are verbal in nature—stories handed down from one generation to the next. As you can imagine, each report varies widely.”
“Like a game of telephone,” Cara said.
“Pardon?”
“Never mind.” She flapped a hand. “It’s a human thing.”
“Anyway,” Larish continued, “I believe they have the psychic ability to project a variety of physical appearances, to make us see what they want us to see. Besides, if L’eihrs can change our features, it stands to reason the—”
“Wait,” Cara interrupted. “You can change your appearance?”
“Well…” Larish ducked his head. “Perhaps I exaggerated. We can lighten or darken our skin, and of course alter our hair and eye color. It’s how our Voyagers infiltrated the human population before making contact.”
Something he’d said piqued her interest. “How do you change the color of your eyes?”
“With cosmetic drops. It’s quite simple.”
Cara thought back to the day Aisly had applied drops to her eyes, which seemed to darken to a slightly sm
okier shade of chrome afterward. Those drops were cosmetic, not medicinal. But what was the point in darkening Aisly’s eyes…unless they weren’t silver to begin with?
Which would mean Aisly wasn’t a clone.
The tiny hairs on Cara’s forearm prickled, standing on end. Her instincts told her she was right. Jaxen and Aisly were different—she’d always sensed it. Nobody seemed to know the siblings personally. What if they weren’t L’eihrs at all? What if they were something else entirely—like an advanced alien race with the ability to alter their appearances?
Could Jaxen and Aisly hail from Aribol?
There was just one hole in her theory: as brilliant as the Elders were, one of them would have known if outsiders had compromised The Way. If nothing else, Silent Speech would reveal the impostors’ true nature.
“Miss Sweeney?” Larish said, jerking her back to present company. “Are you all right?”
She flashed a quick smile. “Fine, just thinking. But I should probably get back to the Aegis.” She stood and held two fingers toward him in a good-bye, and he did the same. “Thanks for your time.”
“My pleasure,” he said with sincerity. “Come back whenever you like.”
Good thing he’d extended an invitation, because Cara needed all the help she could get. “I’ll take you up on that.”
Chapter Seventeen
Aelyx heard a knock at his door and set down his interview script. “It’s unlocked.”
The door flew open and David poked his head into the room, apologizing with his eyes. “Hey, I know you’re studying lines and stuff, but do you have a minute? Syrine just hopped in the shower, so this is the only time I can talk.”
To hear David explain, you’d think he never left Syrine’s side, which was only partially true. The two parted for public relations visits, bathroom breaks, and the occasional foray into the living room when the ambassador was home.
“Sure, the notes can wait.” Aelyx tried not to sound bitter, but truthfully, he resented the fact that Syrine had commandeered his only friend on Earth. Aelyx would never admit it, though. Not after he’d confided his feelings to Cara, who had then giggled and accused him of having a “bromance” with David.