by S E Anderson
“What? This doesn’t count as an official date?”
“Too small for what I’m talking about.” He shook his head. “As I said, I owe you a grand romantic gesture. No running around the universe until we’ve at least tried our hand at romance.”
“I’d like that,” I said. “It would probably be more proper if we had an official date before I asked you to move in with me.”
His face went supernova, bursting into light and color. “You mean it?”
“Not that it means much in a wild, infinite universe, but I was only keeping that apartment for you to find me again. And I think Jules is tired of all the different agencies running through the building in the dead of night.”
“A reasonable response.”
“A new place would do some good, for all of us. A safe place to come to after saving the world. Somewhere Blayde can keep her various wigs, other than my duffle bag.”
“I’d like that,” he said, beaming. “I’ve never had a street address before. What’s it like paying bills?”
I turned away before he could see the tears in my eyes. A home, with Zander. Even a temporary place that we could call our own would be out of this world. It didn’t matter that we’d have to share with Blayde or that we’d be out and away until we found the way back each time. It would be ours. A light at the end of this confusing tunnel.
“The storm is coming,” he whispered, shaking with excitement. I turned my gaze up at the sky.
The long, flat horizon glowed white under the filtered moonlight. The lightning lit up the clouds like it were noon, striking the ground miles in every direction, the landscape changing from that of forest and city to that of battle and war. Thunder rumbled and roared, shaking our foundation.
Then came the rain. Like a torrent, it came rolling from the skies, catching my dangling feet in its deluge before I had the time to react.
“Too bad the rain blocked out the lightning,” Zander moaned. “It was a good show before that.”
I laughed again, relishing in the feeling of hot, heavy raindrops against my legs.
“I want to make a joke about getting a lady wet,” I said, “but it seems in poor taste after all the work you put into this.”
“Remind me, is that a good or a bad thing for Terrans?”
My stomach did an odd somersault I couldn’t exactly decipher. Not a conversation I had expected to have this evening, if at all.
“I never asked, but have you ever, um …” My mouth had gone dry. How were you supposed to phrase these kinds of questions? I had been worried about the sore lack of handbooks on alien roommates that I hadn’t even bothered to check Amazon for books on discussing sexual histories with someone who wasn’t your species.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve ever been with anyone from Earth,” he said, answering what I didn’t dare ask. “Not that I even have a clear memory of if I did. But I’m not going to lie and say I’ve never.”
“I just never thought to ask.” Was it polite to make some distance during these kinds of talks? I didn’t know. “And I’ve kind of acted under the assumption that you and I were, I don’t know, the same.”
“Would it bother you? If I wasn’t what you were used to.”
How do you even answer that? If he were to take off his pants and reveal he had lemurs down there, I would be absolutely terrified. It’s not like I had ever thought where I drew the line before.
“I don’t know,” I said, honestly. “I’ve dated men, women, a person who was both, a person who was neither. But each time, I knew what I was in for.”
A pause. A breath. Silence. His arm still draped over my shoulders, unmoving.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” I sputtered. “This shouldn’t be something that comes between us, right? Maybe we should have just waited until we were horny and already undressing for this to come up.”
“I’m sure that would have traumatized at least one of us,” he replied, though I was sure he was saying it for my benefit and he certainly wouldn’t care if I had lemurs in my pants. I was relieved there was nothing cold in his tone. I didn’t know if I should have been uncomfortable or reassured that he seemed to know how to handle this kind of conversation. “Though neither topic was supposed to come up tonight. I just wanted to watch a storm with you.”
“And what a mighty good storm it is.”
He laughed, and I forced the confusion from my mind, leaning in for another kiss. The way his lips left me all fluttery inside, there was no way I couldn’t love everything about him.
“I do want you,” I said, and it was a relief to speak the words. “I want you so badly. I’m sorry we’re stuck here because of me.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said, somehow, impossibly, pulling me in tighter. “Truly, we can leave any time. They might not even notice us missing.”
“And call this place home in between adventures? No, thank you. I meant what I said. I want us to get someplace real. I’ll do whatever I can to get the Alliance to leave us be and get out of here.”
“You’d have an easier time taking down the entire Alliance than convincing them of anything when it comes to us.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do.”
“What? Convince them?”
“No. Take them down.”
If he had a heartbeat, I would have heard it skip. I didn’t know if he believed me, but he didn’t have to. Nothing had ever been clearer in my mind.
The Alliance had to fall.
They had done so much wrong in the galaxy, least of all their mismanagement of Earth. It wasn’t theirs to manage in the first place, but everything I learned about them—from their child-hire program to their propaganda TV hits to their treatment of the Downdwellers on Da-Duhui—every little element came together to reveal corrupt and disgusting leadership, and I wasn’t even mentioning their treatment of Zander and Blayde, turning them into rebels just so they had someone to blame for their inevitable catastrophes.
“We should get back,” he said, standing. I pulled my legs up from the ledge, trying not to step on his moderately dry comforter. “You need a good night’s sleep.”
“So do you,” I said. “Not that either of us do? I’m still confused on that point. And bone tired. But I can’t sleep with the Agency coming.”
The rain had become a full cascade, a curtain cutting us off from the rest of the universe. I grabbed his arm.
“We’re going to have to run for it,” he said, as if it were as simple as walking rather than taking the bus. “Come on. Follow my lead.”
With a grin, he flipped the comforter over his head, dashing into the deluge. I followed, afraid of losing him in the curtain of rain, my feet moving faster than I could think.
He ran straight to the ledge, not slowing down, and leaped off, arms outstretched, jumping the last few meters. I did the same, hitting the ground as lightly as a cat, the rain pausing a second above me before hitting me like a blow.
He leaped up on the ledge of my window, extending a hand to help me up. In a second, we were back in my room, the warmth of the institute’s radiators making me feel more drenched than I actually was.
“Sorry that your blanket got wet,” he said, taking mine from my shoulder and giving it a good shake.
“Hold on. Do you hear that?”
I pointed at the door. There must have been an orderly in the hallway, checking that we were all asleep, though it was far too late for anyone reasonable to be up.
Not that we were in a place with reasonable people.
“What?”
“You didn’t hear anything?” I replied, but I was half-convinced I’d imagined it.
Only half.
A sudden scream filled the air, chilling me to the bone even more than the freezing rain had. Zander didn’t hesitate, silently dropping everything he had in hand to the floor.
“You coming?” He rushed to the slit on my door.
I gripped his hand, and he jumped out into the corridor again,
images of the institute moving around my immobile self. Suddenly, we were somewhere else on the other side of the building, the wails getting lower as every jump brought us closer.
Inside his room, Peter was writhing on the floor in pain, his hands clasping his ears as he shook on the floor. Zander rushed to his side, pinning him down.
Something slithered up the wall behind me.
“Zander, there’s something in here,” I said.
He nodded, trying to glimpse under Peter’s hands. He pried one away, gaping at the gash behind the boy’s ear.
“What is it?”
“He’s been hurt,” Zander stammered. “Something stabbed him. We need to get him out of here.”
Peter didn’t seem bothered by it, though. He was quiet now, limp in Zander’s hands. Even the blood had stopped.
“What could have done that to him?” This couldn’t be happening. Maybe the Agency was trying to get us out, threatening the other patients by accident or pure malice; I didn’t know.
“How should I know?”
“You’ve been around a bit longer than me.”
Peter was shaking now. He might have been passing out from blood loss. The hole in the side of his head was pink and raw; nothing to be calm about.
A key turned in the lock, the metal jangling against the heavy door. I snapped my head up.
“What do we do?” I hissed.
Zander didn’t answer as he let go of Peter and threw himself under the bed. I dove under after him. Squished together, we watched as the orderlies calmly slipped into the room. Light flared as one of them took out a needle, grabbing the boy’s arm and delicately injecting fluid into his veins. He sobbed as he gently wrapped his arms around the nurse, his tears muffled by her shirt. Zander tensed against my back.
“Was it your father again?” she asked. He nodded in response, dazed. The nurse shifted, hiding him from view. “It’s okay. He’s gone now. Here.”
She extracted herself from his grasp, handing him a glass of water one of the other orderlies had brought, along with a small, white pill.
“This will help you get back to sleep.”
“Thank you,” he replied, taking the pill and swallowing it without the help of the water. Calm for a man with a gaping head wound.
“You should drink,” the nurse insisted. “You look dehydrated.”
He nodded, taking a long gulp and finishing the glass in one draft. She helped him get into the bed, pulling his sheets over him and tucking him in like a caring mother as he slowly slipped into lower levels of consciousness.
“Who were they?” Peter mumbled.
“Who were who?”
“The man and the woman. The ones who tried to help.”
“No one was in here. Don’t fret any further.”
She left the room, switching off the light as she went, locking the door behind her. I rolled out from under the bed, glancing up at a now motionless Peter, making sure he was asleep.
“What was that?” Zander asked in a hushed whisper.
“Nothing, it appears.” Peter’s head rested calmly on the pillow, all trace of blood now gone. The wound that had been gaping up at us just seconds ago seemed to have never existed. No wonder the orderlies had been so calm. “Shit. Where did the hole go? You saw it, too, right? It was there.”
“What Daisy-May was saying, I thought it was just part of what had brought her here, but do you think when she joked about the screaming—”
“That those aren’t just nightmares that make them scream, but the stuff of?”
“Yeah. Do you?”
He thought about it for a while. “Let’s consider, for a minute, that that’s the case. What would be the point?”
“Come on. A monster in a mental institution? A building full of the criminally insane? No one would ever believe the patients.”
“But to what end?” He stood, turning away from Peter. “Daisy-May said there was screaming but didn’t mention any patients disappearing. Peter seems absolutely fine. If we hadn’t seen what we just saw, I wouldn’t assume anything is off about this place.”
I nodded. Peter’s sedatives must have been strong because he wasn’t bothered by our ludicrous conversation.
“Do you really think something is feeding—for lack of a better explanation right now—off the patients, like Cross was?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know.” He ran his hands through his thick hair, pulling it back tight. “It would be terribly ironic if that were the case. This is something the Agency should be handling.”
“Look what a fine job they did with Cross, though.”
“Exactly.” He let out a heavy sigh, reaching for my hand. “Out of the star and into the black hole. Isn’t that the saying?”
It wasn’t, not on Earth, but I knew what he meant. Just when we thought we were safe from Agency interference for at least a while, it turned out we’d probably need their aid.
I needed a good sleep after this. And maybe some wine. Too bad all I had was tea and paper bedsheets.
CHAPTER FIVE
Classic shared trauma over a telephone line
“You’re kidding me, right?” said Blayde. “This is a joke?”
“When have I ever joked about something this serious?” said Zander while shoveling the morning oatmeal into his mouth so fast that his hands blurred. “Something attacked Peter last night.”
I picked up my spoon, digging into the oatmeal and raising it in front of my face, the odd texture slopping off the edges and falling back into the dish with a sloshing sound. Besides toast, it was all that was offered. I wasn’t a fan in general and wasn’t looking forward to it in the slightest.
“You were sneaking about without me?” she hissed. “I was waiting up for a serious conversation on what we were going to do next, and instead, you were running around the halls playing heroes? How come everything exciting always happens to you two?”
“You heard the screams too,” I said. “You could have come. Matter of fact, I’m surprised you didn’t! There was a whole lot of screaming.”
“It was just a nightmare,” Blayde snapped, ripping a piece of said toast with a strong tug of her teeth. “Trust me, I was in the room right next to her all night. No one could have gone in or out without me knowing. It was all in her head.”
“Her?”
“Josephine,” she said. “She screamed rather early in the night, then I had to listen to all the moping crap until sunrise. The other guy, Peter, must have been just the same. You hear one scream in this place, and the rest is just boy crying solar flair. Hum. This is good.”
“What now?”
“The oatmeal,” she replied. “Tasty little gruel.”
“I think it’s boy crying lion,” said Zander. “Or boy crying bear? One of the terrifying, toothy creatures Terrans seem to hate. Sloth?”
“Shut up, I don’t want to hear from you anymore,” she said. “Your voice just grinds my eardrums. You know what? You’re shunned until further notice. There.”
“Come on, Blayde,” he started.
“Sally, please inform my brother that the shunning has already begun.” She turned to me and dropped her utensils on the tray so that they clattered, making her point for her.
“Fine.” I sighed heavily. “Zander, it looks like your sister is going to give you the silent treatment for a while because she’s a thousand-year-old child who doesn’t want to grow up. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m giving her the cold shoulder too.”
“Wait, seriously?” I said. “You’re going to shun each other instead of talking it out?”
“Sally, please inform my brother that until he agrees to keep me in the loop, I’m keeping him out of my life.” Blayde leaned back in her chair, staring at her brother.
“Please inform Blayde that I’m not giving her another word until she realizes I also have a life.”
“Well, I’m not going to be your go-between,” I said. “You two grow up and talk it out. It�
��s not up to me to remind you that we have more pressing issues to deal with.”
“My wrath?” said Blayde pointedly.
“Blayde, come on. We have a problem. Be professional.”
“I am being professional. I would have beat you both up right here if I weren’t. Also, what even is professional for me? It’s not like I’m getting paid to save your planet.”
“I thought you were doing it out of the goodness of your heart? Isn’t life itself the reward?”
She scowled. “I just don’t like you acting like it’s my job or anything. Your planet is risking becoming a little entitled.”
“Can we get back to the issue at hand?” Zander interjected. “Something is going on in this hospital!”
“I’m sorry, did you hear something? It must have been the wind. Old buildings like this do tend to get drafty.”
“Blayde, cut it out,” I snapped. “Look, Zander’s right. This place isn’t right, and the Agency is going to try to extract us sooner or later. They might already be here, and we need to be ready when they act. Ready to fight. And before they do, we need to figure out what happened to Peter last night. That was messed up, and we can’t let it go on.”
“When did you become so confident?” asked Zander, beaming. “I like it when you take over a case like this.”
I turned my gaze into my oatmeal, hiding my blush. I took a hesitant bite, not tasting anything out of the ordinary, though maybe it was a little better than what I was expecting. Before I knew it, the bowl was empty, and I was feeling uncomfortably stuffed.
“It’s not a case,” Blayde muttered.
“Morning, sunshine!” Daisy-May exclaimed happily as she bounded to my side, slipping into the seat beside me. Peter sat across from her, right beside Blayde, who was kind enough to shift over. “Sunshines, plural, I should say. Sleep well?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I mean, first night and all. Except for the screaming. Did you hear that?”
She shrugged, digging into her oatmeal with relish. “Yeah. There’s always at least one. You’re lucky if you get one full night of sleep a month. But you learn to sleep through it.”
