by Sarah Carter
“Spoiled, much?”
“Not spoiled.” Damien holds up his index finger. “Determined.”
She shakes her head and laughs, then pulls out her phone. “Alright. I have to text Alex.”
“Hey, let me get your number.”
“Why would you want it?” Claire asks. “We’re staying in the same room. I don’t think it’ll be hard to find each other.”
Damien chuckles. “I meant for after the rendezvous.”
Furrowing her eyebrows, Claire slowly replies, “Why…why would you need it after this week?”
He looks up at her. “Can’t we stay in touch, or do you not want to? I thought we were becoming friends. I could totally be off-base.”
“No,” Claire says. “It’s just…you’re you! I don’t understand what you’d want with me.”
“Do you still have that bad of an opinion of who I am?” Damien asks, his eyes widening.
Shaking her head, Claire says, “No, not at all, that’s not what I meant. I just…you’re like the prince to our people. I’m not somebody who would normally associate with you.”
“Do you realize who your family is?” Damien responds. “I mean, none of that matters anyway. I’m not some stuck-up prick.”
“I didn’t mean to insinuate that you are,” Claire groans. “It’s just…weird, okay? I would never have thought in a million years that Damien Blakely would be asking for my number. I would think Santa Clause was real before I ever thought that would happen.”
Obviously trying to cover up his laugh, Damien replies, “So, an overweight guy in a red suit, flying with a bunch of reindeer, is more believable than me wanting to be your friend?”
Claire opens her mouth and then closes it. “Good point. Fine, I’ll give you my number. Do I get yours, or is this a one-way street? Do I need to sign a nondisclosure agreement or something? Do a security check?”
“For my number?” Damien laughs, “No. If you get all stalker on me, I can just charge you with harassment.”
“Awww, I don’t get to stalk you?” Claire retorts. “What fun is that?”
“Give me your phone,” Damien articulates, sticking out his hand.
She hands it over, trying really hard not to smirk, because she’s actually getting Damien Blakely’s number. Who would’ve thought?
Claire bites her lip as Damien punches in his number. When he finally hands it back, Claire says, “Wow, that was easy. I wish getting hot guys’ numbers went that smoothly every time.”
“Hot guy?” Damien quips. “You think I’m hot?”
Claire feels the blood drain from her face. “No. I meant…that came out wrong.”
“Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret: I think you’re just as hot,” Damien replies. “Drop-dead gorgeous is a better term.”
Now Claire’s cheeks heat up. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“I would. Have you seen how many guys check you out all the time?”
“Do you know how many girls stare at you and drool?” Claire retorts back, with a smile.
“Well then, I guess we’re in the same boat.” Damien laughs. “I do catch myself checking you out, too.”
Claire’s eyes widen.
“Not to make you uncomfortable.”
She looks down and blushes. “I like to watch you work out.”
“Ditto.”
“Alright, now that we have that awkward conversation out of the way,” Claire murmurs, not wanting to meet his eyes. “Shall we go downstairs?”
With a big smirk, Damien replies, “Yes, of course.” He motions toward the door and they go over there. “Hey, text me quick so I have your number.”
“What would you like me to text you?”
“Something sexy.”
“What, like I’m not wearing any underwear?” Claire laughs.
He stops dead and almost stumbles. “You aren’t?”
Turning around, Claire says, “I’ll have to text you the answer later.”
The corner of Damien’s mouth twitches. “Looking forward to the text.”
He opens the door for them and they walk out. Claire’s heart is beating a mile a minute. Damien Blakely is checking her out. She was just flirting with him. Wanting to scream at herself, Claire knows it would never go anywhere, but he knows her secret, and hasn’t made fun of her at all. Claire studies him.
When they get to the elevator, Damien turns to her. With a quizzical look, he asks, “Why are you staring at me?”
“You just…I never would’ve expected you to be so nice and understanding about my problem. I always felt like a disgrace to my people.”
Damien looks at her with kind eyes. “It’s not something to be ashamed about. We’ll figure out what’s wrong and deal with it. I don’t plan on giving up just because it’s difficult.”
“Thank you.” Claire steps up to him and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “It means the world to me.”
When she pulls away, Damien brings his hand up and traces his fingers down her jawline. “I’m glad I can help.”
They stand there for a minute, just gazing at each other. The elevator dings and shakes them out of their stupor. They get on and remain silent all the way down to the first floor.
The doors open, and Alex is standing there.
“Hey babe,” he says, walking over to her. This time it’s him kissing her on the cheek. Claire tenses a little bit and looks at Damien. With an odd expression, he returns the look and then turns away. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” Claire replies. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“You want to talk now?”
“No, not about that,” Claire snaps. “I have to tell you something. Something good.”
Alex takes her hand and leads her down a side hallway. “What’s up?”
“Damien knows,” Claire whispers.
“Knows what?”
“He knows about my problem.”
Shaking his head a little bit, Alex stutters, “What do you mean? How did he find out?”
“I told him.”
“What? It took you ten years to tell me, but you tell Damien in less than two days? It took us being together before you trusted me enough. How do you think that makes me feel?” Alex exclaims. “I mean really, Claire.”
“I don’t know,” Claire responds. “I get around him and everything comes out. I trust him. I really do. He gave his word as a council member. He’s going to help me.”
With a glare, Alex says, “He’s just going to take advantage of you.”
“Really?” Claire retorts. “Why do you say that?”
“It’s Damien. Everyone knows what he’s about.”
She crosses her arms. “I trust him and that’s all that matters.”
“I just…I can’t believe it took you so long to tell me. I don’t understand it. It’s you and me. You’re my girl. We’re so close. I just don’t understand why you’d trust him and not me.”
“I don’t know,” Claire mumbles. “It just kind of came up. I always thought it would scare people off and view me differently. I didn’t want that to happen with you. Damien isn’t that important to me, but you are. You’re my friend.”
“That’s exactly the point why you should have trusted me,” Alex mutters. “Why would you ever think it would scare me away?”
Claire shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” Alex puts his hands on her arms. “I’m here to stay, no matter what happens. Okay?”
Looking up at him, she nods. “Thank you.”
Alex gives her a soft smile and then leans in. His lips meet hers and Claire tenses up. Alex doesn’t seem to notice. He pulls her tight against him. Claire kisses him back, but feels more shocked than anything. Finally, she pulls away and looks down.
“What’s wrong?” Alex asks quietly.
“Nothing,” Claire replies. Her gaze moves up and she sees Damien behind Alex. She freezes. For some reason, Claire feels like she did something wr
ong.
Damien furrows his eyebrows, but then smiles.
“Hi, Damien.”
Alex narrows his eyes, and turns around. “Can I help you?”
Damien puts his hands up. “I’m sorry, but Kayla wanted me to come and see if you’d join her for a workshop. It’s only an hour.”
“Sure.” Claire moves away from Alex. She’s relieved for the distraction. “I told her we’d stick together.” Claire looks at Alex. “Can you come to the workshops?”
He shakes his head. “I have to be around for security reasons. I’ll meet up with you afterward.”
“Okay,” Claire murmurs. “I’ll see you later.”
“We’ll talk soon?” Alex inquires softly.
“Sure,” Claire replies, not really wanting to. He kissed her, which meant something, right?
A little nervous, Claire walks away from Alex and follows Damien back out into the main lobby. Damien looks at her. “I figure you guys talked.”
“No,” Claire mumbles. “He just kissed me.”
“Well, I think that’s a sign that he likes you.”
“Not necessarily.” Claire doesn’t say anything else, and neither does Damien.
When they find Kayla and Jackson, Kayla claps her hands. “I’m so glad you’re coming to the class with me.”
“Yeah, what class is it?” Claire asks.
“History of the Neturu,” Kayla replies, sounding excited.
“Uh…” Claire looks at Damien. “How are you going to explain that one to the humans?”
Smiling, Damien says, “It’s a private workshop. They’re going to close the doors and we’ll have guards at the exits. No human will be able to get in.”
“That’s good,” Claire retorts. Looking back at Kayla, she says, “So, this should be educational for you.”
“I sure hope so.” Kayla sighs happily. “I love learning. I’m a nerd, so this is right up my alley.”
Jackson interjects, “Well, we should be going. We don’t want to be late.”
“No, we don’t,” Damien replies. He waves his hand and they all start to walk.
Kayla turns as they go. “So, how did you guys learn the history?”
“It’s the responsibility of the family to teach the children,” Damien answers.
“Oh. So, I’m really far behind.”
Shrugging, Damien says, “Kind of, but this class will help.”
“Good,” Kayla says happily,
They walk into the workshop and sit at an empty table. Claire exhales, because this is going to be really boring for her, but she’d never tell Kayla that. Two guards appear and shut the doors.
An older gentleman walks to the front. “Welcome to my workshop. I hope to teach you something that you don’t know. Today we’re going to start at the beginning of our people. As you may be aware, we don’t know how our people came into being. Much as the humans believe, some of us believe in creationism and the others believe in a sort of evolution.
“The creationism side argues that if it was evolution, why aren’t the Kenga more like us? There are only two higher species on the planet of Jiub. The Kenga are much more simplistic than the Neturu. Their intellect levels are far inferior to our own. We tried to share our technological advances and the Kenga didn’t totally grasp what we gave them.
“We’re also so different on a cellular level. We can obviously shapeshift and the Kenga had telekinetic abilities. As species we couldn’t breed or even be with each other. So how do two races evolve being so different from one another? It’s a mystery that we were never able to solve.”
Claire closes her eyes, because she knows all this already.
The teacher continues. “350 years ago, the Kenga started to use biological warfare against us. We were much more advanced than them, but we still lost many of our brothers and sisters. They wanted to rid the planet of us. Was it jealousy? Was it greed? We don’t know, but they tried their hardest to kill us off.
“In doing so, they started to destroy the planet. Many animals and plants were wiped out into extinction. We tried to stop it, but we could only do so much. Our people are peaceful. We didn’t want a war, but had to fight against them anyway. That’s when the guard was created.”
At those words, Claire’s eyes pop open and she sits up.
“The guard was created as an army.”
“Say what?” Claire exhales.
“They were to fight the Kenga and protect our people,” the teacher says. Claire sticks her hand up in the air. The teacher gives her a quizzical look. “Yes, ma’am.”
Slightly dumbfounded, Claire asks, “Where are you getting your information from? Because…ummm…you’re totally incorrect.”
The whole room starts murmuring. The teacher presses his lips together and stares at her. “Miss, I am not incorrect in my information.”
“Uh, yeah. You are,” Claire retorts. “The guard was not created as a sort of army. The original guard members were peacemakers. They were sent to try to smooth things out with the Kenga. They knew how to fight and defend themselves against the Kenga, yes, but they were the liaisons between our council and the Kenga king.”
“And why do you think your information is correct over mine?” the teacher sneers.
“Because, my mother is Lana Livingston and my grandfather is Kaleb Hardrick.”
Everyone in the room gets deadly quiet. The teacher stares at her slack-jawed. “Say that again?”
“My mother is Lana Livingston, one of our top historians, and my grandfather is Kaleb Hardrick, the leader of the guard. Well, I mean, he retired, but nonetheless…”
“That’s incredible,” the teacher exhales.
“Well, I wouldn’t say incredible, but I’m telling you that you’re totally mistaken on that fact. The guards weren’t an army, but ambassadors and negotiators. It was only when things got really bad and the Kenga started to go after council members and try to wipe out whole cities, that the guard stepped up as an army, but we left soon after that.”
A dumbfounded look passes over the teacher’s face. “Well, I may be mistaken.”
“I’m sorry, but there is no ‘maybe.’ You’re mistaken. I can call my mother or grandfather right now if you’d like. You can talk to them.” Claire takes out her phone.
“No. That’s quite alright,” the teacher says. “I’ll have to look into that further. So, unless you have something else to correct me on, I’m going to move forward.”
Claire nervously nods and slumps back in her chair.
“Alright,” the teacher continues. “After 25 years of fighting, we decided to leave Jiub. At that point, there were only a few hundred thousand of us left, which isn’t a lot. We built the ships that transported us and left. We studied many planets on our way to Earth, but nothing fit. The other alien species weren’t something we could easily blend in with. Then we found humans. We arrived roughly 200 years ago. They were very behind us in any sort of advancement, but we were easily able to blend in with them.”
Kayla raises her hand. “I have a question.”
The teacher sighs. “Go ahead.”
“Well, I don’t know much about our history, so this may sound dumb—really dumb—but how fast did we adapt? Because we all took human form and probably didn’t speak any of the languages. I mean, I didn’t even know what I was for most of my life,” Kayla states.
“Oh, you’re the morrae,” the teacher says in wonder.
Kayla blushes and nods.
“Well, what we do is we inject some human blood into each child when they’re born along with a microchip. It forces our body to naturally take on the human form. Physically, we aren’t much different than humans. It’s on a cellular level that things are different.”
With a quizzical look, Kayla asks, “So, are our organs and everything different? What happens if we get hurt and are rushed to a human hospital?”
“That’s the tricky part,” the teacher answers. “There have been times that we’ve had to go bac
k and erase memories and records.”
“Wow,” Kayla replies.
The teacher nods his head. “Yes, it’s a difficult situation. We’re just lucky that we have the technology to control things. Now, do you have any more questions? You can ask anything.”
Shaking her head, Kayla says, “Not as of the second.”
“Alright,” the teacher says. “Now, we’ll go through how influential we’ve been with the human race. Most of their technologic advancements have come from us. Even now, we’re influencing them.
“We have to be very careful what we help them with, though. They're a very violent race, so we sabotage some of the weaponry that they come up with. If they got ahold of our defense systems, the result could be disastrous. Unfortunately, we couldn’t stop the development of the atomic bomb. Nuclear devices in the hands of humans is a scary notion.
“If it ever comes to war, we will leave again. The Neturu cannot risk losing any more of our people. If it really comes down to it, we would fight back, and we’d destroy everything the humans hold so dear. Our weapons are beyond anything they could ever imagine. We could easily deactivate all their nuclear weapons in the blink of an eye, but if we did that, our secret would be discovered.”
“Whoa,” Kayla exhales next to Claire.
Claire smirks at her. She looks at Claire a little wide-eyed, and Claire chuckles.
“So, who can name some of the most influential Neturu of our history?” the teacher asks. A dozen hands go up.
An hour later, everyone is walking out of the class.
“That was incredible,” Kayla exclaims. “Who knew there was that much to know? It was only one class, too.”
“Yeah, our history is pretty long,” Jackson replies. “This is just the tip of the iceberg.”
“If you ever want to know more, I can teach you,” Claire declares. “My whole childhood was based on my mother’s knowledge. She made sure I knew everything.”
Kayla looks at Claire. “So, your mom is a historian?”
“One of the best we have,” Damien interjects. “She makes sure we have documentation of every influential person in our species. Everything that goes on right now is noted. The historians have to go through and figure out what’s important enough to remember. It’s a tough task.”
