—How? I didn’t think you had a blood test for pilots.
—We still don’t. I thought we could bring everyone here and have them try the helmets.
—That’s crazy. It would take—
—I assumed we’d find someone after a few thousand tries. The camps are filled with the right kind of people, so part of the job is already done, but you didn’t let me finish. I was about to start when I remembered we put everyone with military training in prison instead of camps. We didn’t want trained soldiers stirring up trouble.
—So that’s where they found you? I bet you were happy to get out of there.
[I won’t miss the food.]
Your English is pretty good. Why is it that every Russian I meet speaks English?
[I lived in Canada before. Like you, right? Bonjour. Je m’appelle Alexander.]
Nice. What’d you do? Were you a spy?
[I play hockey.]
Oh! Cool!
[When do we start? Major said you’d teach me how to fight.]
I have to teach you how to walk first. Have you ever done any modeling?
[Is he serious, Major?]
—I’m afraid he is. Just do what he says, Sergeant.
[Do I take orders from him?]
Good question! Vincent is the only one who knows how this thing works, so you kinda have to do what he says. But he’s not military. Would you like to be, Vincent? I can make you a captain!
—No, Katherine, I don’t want to be a captain in the Russian Army…Look, Alex—can I call you Alex?—this thing, it works on trust more than anything else. I can’t…tell you what to do because by then it’ll be too late. You need to…I’m a center. You play wing. We need to anticipate each other.
[She said I have to shoot you if you do anything wrong.]
—Really? What part of trust—
—Only during training, Vincent. After that, we’ll have something less…
—Crazy?
—I was thinking ominous.
—No, Katherine. Having someone behind you with a gun pointed at your head all day isn’t ominous. It’s insanely stupid, ridiculously dangerous. I think you need more words.
[I’m sorry. You said trust. I thought you should know.]
Right…Thank you, Alex, for your honesty. And Katherine, I hate to ruin that ominous plan of yours but he won’t be able to hold a gun, not with the gloves on. They’re like hockey gloves.
[Oh!]
Exactly.
—All right! We’ll think of something else. Why does everything have to be so difficult?
[So what do we do now?]
Well, Sergeant, it looks like you won’t start training today after all. No, Vincent, I’m not letting you into Themis without some sort of safety measure in place. You can start tomorrow.
—We can start today. We don’t need to be inside Themis for now. We can just hold hands for a while.
—What did you just say?
—Hands. Ever tried walking while holding someone’s hand? It doesn’t work if your pacing is different. You need to adjust speed, distance, so your arms can move in sync. We’ll start with that to get our feet moving together. It’ll be a mirror image, but it’s easy to switch later. Then we’ll work on the arms. You can just follow me around. I’m going to exaggerate my arm movements a bit. You have to move like I do. You’ll need to walk like that even when I’m not around.
[This is the stupidest thing I have ever heard in my life.]
—It sounds perfect. I’ll let you boys do your thing, then. I don’t wanna be a third wheel.
—Don’t go, Katherine. I need to talk to you first.
[This…training thing sounded much better when she explained it to me.]
Oh, don’t worry, we’ll get to the part where we fall ten times a day soon enough. That reminds me, Katherine, we’ll need a place where you don’t mind things getting crushed.
—And they say I’m high-maintenance. You can leave us, Sergeant. I’ll send for you when we’re done here.
[Yes, ma’am.]
So?
—Any news about Eva?
—No. We haven’t found her yet. She’s really good! Or whoever is helping her is really good. Whatever. We’ll find her. Don’t worry about it.
—You gave me your word she wouldn’t be harmed.
—I promised I wouldn’t give the order to shoot first. They still need to bring her in. I’m not responsible for what happens if she doesn’t want to. You know how she is.
—That’s not good enough. I need to know you won’t hurt her.
—Hurt her? Why would I do that? But you know we can’t let the Americans get their hands on her. If it comes to that, they’ll put her down. They’ll shoot to kill. No one is going to hurt her.
—I won’t help you if anything happens to Eva. You can kill me if you want to, but then you’ll have nothing.
—Oh, Vincent, Vincent…I thought we’d been through this. Do you really think anything’s changed because Dr. Franklin and your daughter are gone? Look at your hands. How many fingers do you see? Are you sure? Oh don’t worry, they wouldn’t start with you. They’d bring in a little girl and let you watch while they do it to her. They can do things that you and I can’t even imagine, Vincent. They can do things to you until there is no you left. They can screw with your mind so much you’ll be begging for them to hurt you more. They can turn you into a pet.
—You’re a sick fuck, Katherine. I hope you know that.
—Me? I’m not the one who wants to do any of this. I’m the one, the only one, stopping them. My boss, he doesn’t like this plan. He doesn’t like you. He doesn’t like you at all, Vincent. It’s the accent, I think. If this doesn’t work out…
—If this doesn’t work out, what?
—Let’s just say you’re not the only one who’ll spend some quality time with a blowtorch and some bolt cutters.
—You guys watch way too much TV. Am I really supposed to fall for this?
—Trust me, Vincent, the GRU can be…
—Oh, I know you can do some very nasty shit to people. I have absolutely no doubt about that. I was talking about that Stockholm syndrome thing you’re going for. Next thing you know, you’ll be asking me out on a date. Just a casual dinner in a dimly lit restaurant. Do you think I’ll develop feelings for you? That I’ll use Themis to destroy armies…out of love? Is that it? I’ll admit, if the circumstances were different, and maybe you weren’t a psychopath, and the world hadn’t gone to shit…
—Wow. I don’t know what to say, Vincent. I’m…hurt. Hey, that dinner thing is a great idea, though. What do you say we get out of here and go for a big steak? I know the perfect place.
—I’m serious, Katherine. I want Eva to be safe. You hear me?
—I’ll do my best, Vincent. I promise you I’ll do my best. Come now. Steak!
FILE NO. 2138
PERSONAL JOURNAL ENTRY—EVA REYES
Location: Kaarina Work Camp, near Turku, Finland
There’s a way out. Everyone knows about it. There’s a tataarit kid—they call him Baba. I have no idea what his real name is. He goes out every single night for supplies. Cigarettes, mostly. One hundred percent markup, but Baba can get you anything. He’ll even bring you a receipt, so you know you’re only getting ripped off a hundred percent. The kid—he can’t be more than twelve—makes over two thousand dollars a week, or so he says. I get the feeling it’s Baba’s dad who pockets the money, but Baba likes to brag. He lives well, that’s for sure. New clothes. New phone. He’s cocky as hell. I like him a lot.
I asked if he could take me with him. He said no, of course. I’ve given up on things not being complicated. I tried threatening him, told him I’d tell the guards. He laughed. The guards get 20 percent, so does the chef. It turns out my way out of here
is through the kitchen, and the chef is the man with the key. I offered to pay, but he asked to see the money. I really like that kid. I like him enough that I told him who I was. That made him smile. Then he asked for the shirt off my back. Literally. He thinks it will fetch a fortune online. “Genuine shirt from Eva Reyes, worn on alien planet.” We even took a picture he can use as a certificate of authenticity. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about my clothes. Anyway, I hated that shirt. The Russians gave it to me. I might have forgotten to mention that part to Baba. Unfortunately, that priceless fashion item was my one shirt, and if I manage to leave this place, I’ll do it wearing a tee shirt from a metal band called Nightwish, courtesy of Baba himself. At least it’s black. He also gave me enough money for a bus to Turku and the ferry to Mariehamn though I’m supposed to pay him back. I’m not sure how. I didn’t ask.
I didn’t know if I was being played. It seemed so stupid. How could there be a way out of here, and no one uses it, except for one person who keeps coming back? But it’s true. I’ve seen it. I asked for “proof of life” before taking off my shirt. It’s not a secret hole in the floor, not a breach high up in the fence. There’s a door! A yokits door! They use it to bring food in, leads right outside. If they wanted to, every single person in here could be out by morning, provided they have money, or the right shirt. Anyone who can beat up a cook can get out! But they’re not. They’re all staying here. Basically, they don’t need the fence or the guards. They can just tell people to stay, and they stay. Stay! There, good boy!
I remember having that conversation with my dad. Not Vincent, my adoptive dad in Puerto Rico. I asked him why people complained about politics all the time but did absolutely nothing about it. I couldn’t understand why people keep voting for the very people they loathe. They’ll protest a war, but the everyday stuff, small injustices, they just let them slide. Friends making a fortune off government contracts, paying a hundred dollars for a pencil, that type of thing, people complain about it, everyone does, but they won’t do a thing. I remember how floored I was when he told me that was a good thing, how we need a certain level of cynicism for society to function properly. If people thought they had real power to change things, if they truly believed in democracy, everyone would take to the streets, advocate, militate for everything. It happens from time to time. Thirty thousand people will block traffic to march for a cause, but they do it believing that the other side couldn’t possibly feel justified in doing the same thing. What if they did? What if thirty thousand people who believe in one thing marched at the very same time as those who believe in the exact opposite? What if it happened every single day? People who care about other things would also want to be heard. They’d need to scream louder. They’d need their disruption to be more…disruptive. People are compliant because they don’t expect the system to be fair. If they did, if they thought that was even possible, we’d live in chaos, anarchy. We need apathy, he said, or we’ll end up killing each other on the streets.
Did I mention my dad worked for the government?
I didn’t believe him then. I’m not sure he believed it either. That whole conversation started because I wanted us to open a shelter for alley cats. I was utterly convinced my parents would agree. Sure, there were some downsides to having tons of cats in our house, but you’d have to be really selfish to let that stop you from saving all those lives. Odds are that civics course was his way of telling me to learn to live with that injustice and not get into an endless argument about cats. He and my mom had raised me to argue. They said they would always welcome a debate based on logic and facts and that they could be convinced of anything if I made my case, but a hundred flea-infested strays probably fell outside their definition of “anything.” I built it, though. I got a stack of empty boxes from the corner-store trash, and I built a cardboard palace in our yard. I thought of everything. There was a playroom, so they wouldn’t get bored. I put all the couch pillows inside to make beds. It was perfect. The rain took the whole thing down after a day or two. The pillows didn’t make it. I lost a month’s worth of allowance, but I was still proud of myself. If you see something wrong with the world, fix it. Fight. Resist. Don’t use cardboard.
That’s what I liked about Kara, and Vincent, for that matter. He didn’t comply. He would have built that cat shelter, made it three floors high, with a water fountain out front. I don’t know if it’s all my fault or if it’s Kara’s death that changed him, but I miss that man.
The town’s not far. He said it’ll take us twenty minutes to get there. With any luck, I’ll be in Mariehamn by the time they notice I’m missing. I’ll have to figure out what I want to do if I make it to Sweden. I can’t just make a normal life for myself in the middle of this nonsense.
Maybe I can. Maybe I can get a job, watch TV, smile when people make jokes about the people living here. I can stop fighting, stop resisting.
Who am I kidding? I can’t get a job. They’ll just test my blood over there, and I’ll end up living in a Swedish camp instead of a Finnish one. I’ve never been to Sweden, so a work camp there will be somewhat new. Maybe I can sell my pants and make a fortune, become the Baba of Sweden.
It’s all about perspective, really. Just don’t call it a prison camp. I could be living the life in a gated community. Yokits, I’m nervous. I have to get to Mariehamn first. One step at a time, I guess. One foot in front of the other. I don’t know what else I can do. If you see something wrong with the world, fix it. But what if it’s the whole world that needs fixing?
FILE NO. EE249—PERSONAL FILE FROM ESAT EKT
Personal Log—Dr. Rose Franklin
Location: Assigned residence, Etyakt region
I have felt vulnerable, powerless even, since we arrived on this world, but it came with a feeling of excitement, like a child riding a roller coaster for the first time. Now there is nothing but helplessness. My friend is dying, and I can’t help him. I can’t see the world around me. I can’t see anything else.
It was stupid of me to think I could find a cure. I’m not a geneticist. I don’t know enough about DNA to even recognize what I’m looking for. I thought I could trick the Ekt into doing some of the work for me, but they saw me coming a mile away. Deception doesn’t come naturally to them, and they’re not really good at detecting it. Or at least they weren’t. They’re fast learners. The Ekt won’t pass on new knowledge to us, but we, humans, know a hell of a lot more about genetics than I do. I told them I could get information if I were on Earth. I could read papers, talk to people. I don’t have access to all the research we’ve done. I don’t have access to anything. I’ve explained that to them in every way that I could, but they don’t believe me, or they don’t care. I just need more data. It’s not…fair. All I want is to save my friend. I have to save him.
I can’t find the right mutations. Even if I had found them, I wouldn’t know what to do next. I need to study how their weapon worked, how it found the right cells and what it did to them. They won’t let me. I understand why they won’t let me play with that weapon, it was designed specifically to kill them, people with Ekt DNA. I understand that now. I didn’t when I asked them for a sample. They were…confused at first. They became agitated and threw me out of the lab. I suppose that “I promise to be careful” doesn’t quite cut it when it comes to weapons of mass destruction. I’ll need to find a new place to work in. I get the feeling I’m not welcome there anymore.
I’m not giving up. I don’t care what they tell me. I’ll do what I have to do. I discovered ancient alien artifacts buried in every corner of the world. I put together a giant robot that can lay waste to entire cities. I stopped an alien invasion, for God’s sake. I can save one man.
Everything I’ve done now seems insignificant next to Eugene’s life. I’ve lost people before. I’ve lost the people closest to me, and I can live with that. I can because there was nothing anyone could have done. But they can save E
ugene. They can cure him in a matter of minutes, without effort. I respect, and I even understand, their principles. Where Eva and Vincent see arrogance, I see profound humility. There is a deep respect for life and the universe in their refusal to mess with it. But we’re not talking about life as a whole, we’re talking about a life, my friend’s. It might be me who is arrogant, but I don’t want to see that life gone so needlessly.
I’ll convince them. I’ll convince them it’s in their best interest to help him. I’ll find a way to make them bend their rules. I’ll steal the medication if I have to.
FILE NO. 2142
INTERVIEW BETWEEN DR. ROSE FRANKLIN AND DR. ALYSSA PAPANTONIOU
Location: United States Central Command (CENTCOM), MacDill Air Force Base, Tampa, Florida
—Dr. F…Franklin. I didn’t think we’d meet again.
—I didn’t think I’d meet anyone on Earth again, but you’re right, you’re the last person I expected to call.
—I have sssso many questions. I dd…don’t even know where to start.
—Why don’t you start by answering mine?
—Are we…Do you still hate me? I sincerely hope you d…don’t.
—Do I hate you? That’s an…interesting way to start the conversation. I…I’m not your friend, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ll never forgive you for what you did. But I don’t…You don’t seem as insane as you did before. I guess the rest of the world has caught up with you.
—I’ll t…take that as a compliment.
—When did you stop working for the Russians?
—They didn’t need me after you d…disappeared. There was no need to find pilots with Themis gone. Then I learned the Americans were putting Lapetus back together, so I came.
—Just like that. New job. You start on Monday.
—They took some con…convincing, but they knew I could help. I did.
—It didn’t bother you? Switching sides, again?