—Nah. You’ll think it’s silly. Ah, what the hell! I like to listen to people, in restaurants, everywhere. My parents were spies, you know, or maybe you don’t know. Well, now you do. Anyway, maybe eavesdropping is a genetic thing. It’s like a game. I try to guess things about people. Sometimes I even think I’m good at it. So yesterday at dinner, I couldn’t help noticing a bit of tension between you and your daughter. I didn’t make anything of it at first, but come dessert I’m thinking Eva’s mad at Daddy for something. What if she’s mad because Ekim got sick? What if Ekim’s the boyfriend? Maybe she blames Dad for what’s happening. Now Dad, he loves his daughter, he really doesn’t want anything to happen to the boyfriend because he feels responsible and he’s afraid his daughter won’t forgive him…That’s it. That’s all I got. Am I close?
—I’m afraid not.
—I told you you’d think it was silly. Are you sure you don’t want some Advil? You look a little pale.
—Coffee would be good.
—What was I thinking? I’ve been up for hours, I forgot it’s still early. Coming right up. Black, right?
—Does it work?
—Does what work?
—That bubbly, friendly routine?
—Oh, that was rude, Vincent. I know. Big bad Russia, right? We’re the bad guys. You might want to rethink that. You won’t believe it now, but you and I really want the same thing.
—How could you possibly know what I want?
—Well, right now I know you really want to get out of here, but that will pass when you learn a bit more about what the world is like now. Where would you go, if you could? Back to the US? Home to Montreal?
—Sounds about right.
—Which one? Don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter. They’re pretty much the same now.
—…
—OH. COME. ON! You’re not even gonna ask? I get why none of you’ll say anything, but I don’t understand why you won’t ask questions. You’ve been gone nine years. Nine years! Aren’t you the least bit curious about what you’ve missed? Seriously, even if I only gave you half the truth, that’d be a lot more info than the diddly-squat you have right now!
—You’re saying the US has invaded Canada.
—No, they didn’t need to. But there are forty thousand American troops there now. There’s a Marine base in Montreal.
—So we’re allies.
—You’re a little more than that. Your parliament hasn’t met in over two years, and your prime minister is assigned to residence. General Scott is running your country. Yours isn’t the only one. Venezuela. Half the Middle East. North Africa too. They just took Libya. The Mexican president was a lot more defiant than your prime minister—good for him—but it didn’t do much good. The United States now extends all the way to Panama.
—How?
—The robot, of course. Lapetus. There’s a big crater in the middle of Mexico City to remind everyone that it was in their best interest to “join” the United States.
—What about you?
—Me?
—Russia. I may not ask a lot of questions, but I was listening last night when you told us we landed in Estonia.
—And?
—And, we’re here. I take it Estonia isn’t as sovereign as it used to be.
—Oh, that. Yes, Estonia is now a proud member of the Russian Federation. So is Georgia, and pretty much all the -stans. To be fair, about half of them asked for it.
—And the other half?
—Do you drink soda?
—What?
—Pop! Soda!
—I—
—Imagine Coke is taking over everything, buying every brand they can get their hands on, and Pepsi is the only thing they can’t afford. Now, maybe you like Dr Pepper and you wanna keep drinking it, but you can’t. There is no Dr Pepper anymore. There’s Coke and Pepsi. Some people accept that, but for some it takes a little longer to sink in. Georgia, for example, they couldn’t let go of their Fanta.
—So you send in tanks, a hundred thousand men and have them take the Pepsi challenge with an AK-47 to their head. I don’t see how that makes you any different than the other guy.
—We’re protecting our borders. They’re taking over the world.
—What about the EDC?
—You’re funny. That lasted for about a week after Themis disappeared.
—There’s no United Nations anymore?
—No, there’s a UN. On paper at least. But that robot is All-American. Red, white, and blue through and through. And it’s not defending widows and orphans.
—And you want to do the same thing with Themis.
—I would like to even things out a bit, yes! I don’t see anything wrong with that. The only thing stopping them from beaming into the square across the street is the threat of a nuclear strike. Mutual assured destruction. Dun dun dun…The MAD doctrine is the only play we have left without that robot. You understand how that’s a bad thing, right? They know we don’t really want to push that button—because of that mutual part where everyone ends up extra crispy—so they keep backing us into a corner until we have nowhere to go, then boom. No Coke or Pepsi, just muddy radioactive water.
—You do realize there’s no way I’m ever gonna pilot Themis for you, right?
—Oh, Vincent, Vincent…Why do you do this to yourself?…I know you’ve seen the way the guards look at your daughter. Do you know how long she can hold her breath? Repeat after me. Exacto knife.
—Fuck you.
—Well, you kind of asked for it a little bit, don’t you think?
—I’ll—
—I know, I know. You’ll kill me if I hurt her. I don’t doubt for a minute that you mean it. Don’t worry. I was just messing with you. I would never hurt your daughter.
—How do I know you mean that?
—Because you know I don’t need to. I could give her a haircut, and you’d be in that robot asking for orders before I get to her bangs. Let’s talk about something else, OK? This is just depressing. Let’s do something constructive, like maybe saving your friend. To be honest, I’d much rather have him pilot Themis for us.
—What do you want me to do?
—That’s the right attitude! Thank you for asking. You see, our doctors, they won’t say it because they’re afraid of what’ll happen to them, but they have no idea how to save your friend right now—like none—and I’m thinking: Maybe he knows. Maybe he could save himself. Only he won’t talk to us. Either he can’t understand or he doesn’t want to, but I’m sure he’d like to talk to a friend.
—What makes you think I can talk to him?
—Really? Let me see. Hmmm, he was with you, inside Themis. It would make for a boring ride if he couldn’t talk to anyone…Oh, yes, you also spent NINE YEARS on his planet. Oh, and you’re a linguist. Like, that’s the one thing you actually trained for. What else? Hmmm. No. That’s it. That’s all I have.
—I meant what makes you think it’s even possible? They could communicate with something other than sound. They could use chemical reactions, pheromones, touch, telepathy, sign language. Even if they did use sounds, in order to communicate, you’d have to be able to make the sounds, and recognize them. They could have a very different articulatory system. They could have no larynx, two of them, something entirely different. Even with the same physiology, they could produce sounds we can’t replicate, or can’t hear. Some of their sounds could be ultrasounds to us. Some could be indistinguishable from one another. They could have a thousand different sounds where we only hear one. They could produce a dozen at the same time. There are so many ways this could not work. I can’t hear tone the right way in Mandarin, let alone reproduce it. I hear it backwards, up is down, down is up. That’s with humans. Imagine the odds on another planet with folks who walk like ostriches. Even with the sounds out of the way, what they express
could be impossible for us to grasp. They might not use a logic similar to ours, they might not conceptualize things as we do.
—Wait, wait…How stupid of me! Duh! I completely forgot I asked Eva if she’d like to talk to him just before you came in. She’s with him right now. I’m such a scatterbrain. Seems I don’t need you to talk to him after all. But thank you so much for that little lesson just then. That was superinteresting. No, don’t make that face again! It really was! They seem close, Eva and Ekim. How long have they known each other? The whole nine years? Less than that?
—What difference does it make?
—Exactly! What’s the point in not telling me? I can just ask her, you know. I’d rather you tell me because the security protocols are a lot tighter with her, and I hate the paperwork. But it’s OK, you don’t have to. Do you know how many forms I have to fill out just to talk to her through a glass wall?
—I don’t understand. Why would things be any different with her? We all spent the same amount of time over there.
—I know! Right? I asked the same question when they put her inside that sealed room. Well, for starters, she has more alien DNA than just about anyone we’ve come across.
—That’s still just a tiny fraction of her genetics.
—Well, tiny fractions matter now. She’s an A5.
—What’s that mean?
—It means she’d have a real hard time getting a job. I’m an A1 and I can only make colonel. Most countries keep their A3s in camps. Anyway, that’s strike one. Your daughter, being more alien than most, also spent almost half her life on another planet. She was a baby for a few of the years she spent here, so, really, most of her life is over there. I’m gonna make a fool of myself again, but I’d be willing to bet that…she didn’t wanna leave! Yes? No? Anyway, strike two. Then, of course, there’s the whole dating an alien thing. You know, the same kind that killed one hundred million people here on Earth, the kind that destroyed Moscow.
—I thought you bombed Moscow yourself.
—Potato, po-tah-to. The point is she doesn’t inspire a lot of trust right now. I was glad when I found out she’s held on to some Earth customs—she gave me the finger the first time I saw her—but still, she speaks friggin’ alien.
—She’s as human as you are. We lived by ourselves. I raised her. Rose did. She was with us.
—See! That’s the spirit. Now I have something more positive than the finger thing to share with my boss. What else can you tell me? Come on! Anything! OK, tell me what happened when you landed on Esat Ekt—yeah, Rose told me. It’s a good name. What’d you do? Was anyone there to greet you? Did you just walk around aimlessly until you ran into people? Please?
—We didn’t do anything…We were waiting to die.
FILE NO. 1641 EE001
PARTY LOG—EVA REYES
Location: Inside Themis, EDC Headquarters, New York, New York
—This is Eva Reyes. We’re on board Themis, celebrating. I’m with my dad, Dr. Franklin, and General Govender. I…I don’t know what I’m supposed to say! Hey, Vincent?
[Yes, Eva?]
Why do I have to wear the headset?
[Because we’re recording this. Rose likes to record everything.]
I know that, but why me? Why can’t any of you wear it?
[Let’s see. I have a broken shoulder and a bent-up leg. Rose has a broken tibia.]
It’s a headset. It goes on your head.
[You can move around more than we can. Stop complaining, will you?]
The general could wear it.
[The general is slightly inebriated.]
{I heard that, Couture!}
[Sorry sir. I meant to say you’re drunk as a skunk.]
{It’s that damn champagne. Why can’t I get a real drink? And why is it so dark in here? I can barely see my glass!}
That’s the other thing I wanted to ask about. Why am I the only one drinking juice?
[So you can do the recording. Oh, that and you’re ten.]
Come on, Vincent! I just kicked some giant robot’s ass. I just want one glass of champagne.
[Technically, Rose kicked his ass—]
Thank you, Dr. Franklin.
I’m not sure I—
OK, then, Rose. How does it feel?
No, I meant you were right. Your plan worked.
{Show the aliens that humans could be just as tough without them messing with our DNA, by shooting some green goo full of bacteria out of a keg—}
What are you saying, General?
{I’m saying…What was I saying?}
Is that right, General?
{Not a chance in hell.}
Haha! What about you, Vincent? Did you think it would work?
[Me? I—]
[No, Rose! I understood the logic behind it. I just wasn’t sure that, even if the bacteria worked, the aliens were gonna get the right message.]
How can you say that, Dr. Franklin? They left, didn’t they!
Why else would they have left?
{Because Dr. Franklin sprayed them with some goddamn goo!}
[General, maybe you should try some of Eva’s juice.]
It’s apple juice.
{Shut up, Couture! That’s an order!}
Seriously, Rose. Why else would they leave?
Vincent?
[I don’t know! I think, maybe, they could have been scared by the bacteria. What if all their robots, their ships, maybe their homes, are made using the same technology. Imagine for a second what would happen if some of that bacteria made it to their world.]
…
What was that?
[I can’t remember what I was saying. Did the light just get brighter?]
Maybe.
[I think Themis just powered up.]
Can she do that?
{I don’t know! I’ve never been in this damn robot of yours.}
Vincent?
[The console is lit up. Eva, get up there and put your helmet on.]
Sure. But we’re in a garage! What do you expect me to see?
[I don’t know, Eva. It’s just a hunch.]
I’m putting it on. I…I don’t think—
[What is it, Eva?]
{Goddammit kid! What do you see?}
Guys? I don’t think we’re on Earth anymore…
[What?]
Giant robots. They’re all around us.
{The ones that attacked us?}
I don’t know, General. There are…
{Goddamn it kid! It’s a simple question. Are these the same ones that attacked us?}
I don’t know! I don’t know if they’re here.
{Couture, what the hell is she talking about?}
[Shit! She means she can’t tell. There are hundreds of them.]
Thousands. They’re all lined up in perfe
ctly straight rows. Behind us too.
[She’s right. It looks like the Terracotta Army. And we’re smack dab in the middle of it.]
I’m scared, Dad.
[Yeah. Me too.]
FILE NO. EE002—PERSONAL FILE FROM ESAT EKT
Personal Journal Entry—Eva Reyes
Location: Inside Themis, on unknown planet
My name is Eva Reyes. I’m ten years old. My dad wants me to keep a journal in case we don’t make it back to Earth. I…We’ve been inside Themis for three days. At least that’s what his phone said before the battery ran out. I’m not sure that’s true. The sun hasn’t gone down once. We don’t have any food or water. All we had was a quart of apple juice. That also ran out. I…I don’t know what else to say. Dr. Franklin? What should I say?
[Talk about yourself. Where you’re from. How you got here. And call me Rose.]
Ehhh…I was born in Puerto Rico. My parents, the people who raised me, they worked for the government. We lived in a nice house in San Juan. I went to English school at Saint John’s. I had good grades, but no one liked me there. The teachers thought I was trouble. I would have been expelled if my dad wasn’t on the board. I didn’t have a lot of friends. People thought I was crazy because I saw things, things that would happen sometimes. They made fun of me, called me names. My friends, the ones that didn’t call me names, they never said anything, but they worried about me. My parents too. They worried all the time.
[I’m sure your parents loved you very much.]
I know they did. But they thought I was sick. They believed me in the end, but they died because of me.
[Eva!]
They did!
[It wasn’t your fault!]
I didn’t do anything, but they still died! If I hadn’t been there, those mercenaries never would have come. I wasn’t even their daughter, really. I was made in a lab. My mom carried me in her belly, but I was made in a test tube. My biological parents turned out to be Kara Resnik and Vincent Couture, the EDC pilots who control Themis. That’s why I was made, so I could pilot Themis someday. What else? I was kidnapped. Kara rescued me, but then she also died. Earth was attacked by giant robots from another planet, and she died trying to save me.