Alienation

by S E Anderson

  “Will any of you tell me what the vrijalt you’re doing here?” the indecent Oexasie spat.

  “Look, we’re sorry. We’re just passing through,” said Zander. “Wrong house.”

  “Is that my coat?”

  “No, it’s mine!” Zander placed his hands on his hips and scowled at the Oexasie. “You can’t even wear it.” Zander’s face flushed. “Please don’t tell me you tried it on…”

  “Guards!” the creature bellowed, and with that, we were on the move again.

  “I’m ashamed of you, Zander,” Blayde said as she dragged me unceremoniously down the hallway. She raised the weapons she had stolen from the last guards, aiming them at the new batch coming toward us. The guards crumpled to the floor without a sound. “Get back in the zone, or things will just get worse.”

  “Is that a threat?” Zander paused to glance her over, but she just rolled her eyes again.

  “An observation. Down the stairs, now!”

  The world flickered around me like channels changing on the TV screen. Jump, jump, jump. One after the other until we were standing in front of a door, which Blayde opened with a well-placed kick.

  We were outside again, the overwhelming world rising in front of me. The smog didn’t hit me as hard as the first time, but it still burned the inside of my nose and made my face feel grimy. This time, the ledge was wider, reaching out into the highway just waiting for cars to alight.

  I struggled to suppress the cough clawing up my throat, all the while begging my body to not give up on me. I could see why Blayde didn’t want me sharing their adventures. My entire body smarted, and I had only been running for a few minutes. After a combination of my reaction to the smog and vertigo, and to being on the run from people who thought we were robbing from them and then from people who we had actually robbed, I was exhausted to the core.

  I needed to sit down or I would fall down.

  Blayde strode forward on the platform and waved her arms high above her head. Within less than a minute, a flaming, red cab pulled up in front of her, alighting on the ledge. Literally flaming. As in the roof was on fire.

  “Shit, this company’s expensive,” Zander muttered. “I didn’t realize Flamers had branched out to other planets.”

  “They’d probably charge less if they didn’t lose half their cars to flames,” I pointed out. The whole thing was absurd to the point that I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “You don’t know the half of it. Come on, don't dally, Sally,” he said as he hustled into the taxi, laughing at his own terrible rhyme. Blayde shoved me forward. I tripped over the step and tumbled onto Zander's lap, but he was too busy talking with the cabbie to notice this, let alone my hands awkwardly pushing my body off his legs. I sat up straight, clutching my bag to my chest, trying not to think about the nothingness between the floor of the cab and the ground below.

  But I did think about it, and there went my stomach, tying itself into tight knots I could have sold as a crocheted pillow.

  “Scoot over.” Blayde shoved me again.

  “Wait, no!” But it was too late. Zander had slid behind me, and I was now the one next to the window. It was tinted against the glare of the street, but, even so, I could see out of it. And, boy, it was a long way down.

  “Drive, drive, drive!” Zander shouted, and the taxi shot forward, shoving me back against the seat. My head hit the headrest so quickly I felt the wind gust out of me.

  I saw stars I’m sure weren’t actually there.

  I looked out the window to see guards bursting out onto the platform, guns aimed high, but it was too late.

  We had survived. But where we were going next, I didn’t know.

  The buildings flew past our windows too quickly to make out any details. I looked up to distract myself from looking down.

  Being on the ledge hadn’t done anything for my fear of heights. Already, the gleam of a new planet was wearing off, leaving room for vertigo to wiggle into my mind. My palms were so drenched in sweat I could have single-handedly rehydrated a desert.

  Knowing the drop and a hovercar from my dreams were the only things keeping me from plunging to my death was enough to make anyone scream. Not to mention that Zander was wearing a stolen coat, no matter how many times he claimed it was his. I bit my lip, squeezing my duffel bag into my belly. The sweat from my palms stuck to the plastic straps.

  “Which part of town are we in?” Zander asked the driver, his voice layered with what seemed to be a drunken slur. “I can't seem to remember.” He laughed merrily, Blayde joining in with the same exaggerated giggling.

  “Kurai—North,” said the cabbie. He didn’t seem at all perturbed that we were racing from what appeared to be gangsters with a museum of illegal things.

  The driver turned back to look at me, and I almost squeaked. He was human. Or, at least, he looked human. With dark skin and graying hair, he had the air of a well-read and well-traveled nerd.

  “Where's the best place for local food in town?” Zander asked, leaning forward. He was quite literally buzzing, vibrating against me. I stayed with my back firmly pressed against the seat, my clammy hands clasped on my lap, and I stared straight ahead.

  Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

  “Um ... if money's no object, you can't go wrong with the upper levels. I can drop you off on platform six. It's pretty popular with tourists.”

  “We’re really going out for food?” I asked, as Zander sat back in his seat again. “Now?”

  “Is there something wrong with that?”

  “No, but …” But many things. We had just stolen a coat and run away from a slug guy. We had broken into someone’s house—twice. “Did we come all this way for a snack?”

  He grinned. “A snack? Maybe. If that’s what you want.”

  “Erm, what do you guys actually do when you arrive on a new planet? Shop? Eat? Steal stuff and make a getaway in a local taxi?” I joked, but I guessed my fear crept into my words; something neither Zander nor Blayde could have missed. But if they picked up on it, they gave no sign.

  Blayde leaned over to Zander to share another of their silent conversations, her brows rising and sinking fast enough that it had to be code. How she could speak so quietly and how he understood any of it, I would never know.

  “First, a reminder, this is my coat. And to answer your question, sometimes all of that,” Zander said meekly, “we're what you might call extreme tourists. We see everything worth seeing, enjoy the culture, maybe stay a night. Then we go on our way. It's fun.”

  “Right.” I wanted to roll my eyes. “This is coming from the man who saved the planet quite a few times when he was on Earth. I wouldn't call that, or what we just did, extreme tourism.”

  “That was different,” he muttered but gave no further explanation.

  “I wasn't on Earth.” Blayde laughed. “And when I'm around, things tend to be a lot more fun.”

  “I would call it 'more violent', but to each their own,” I said.

  “Ha! She's got you there, sis!”

  “Though my little bro is right”—Blayde let out a small sigh of annoyance—“usually, we just see the sights. Nothing more. We're not around to save everyone every time, you know.”

  “So … you’re just … vacationing?” I found that harder to believe than their jumping or their immortality. I had been at the power plant, seen them save an alien race. From which, I had gleaned that Zander and Blayde were running from an intergalactic vendetta, or something of the sort. Trying to see these two, well, heroes as anything on the same level as mere space tourists did not compute.

  But, then again, I had been part of their breaking and entering. And maybe assault and battery? Had they killed those guards?

  “Pretty much.” Blayde shrugged her shoulders as she leaned back in her seat. The speed of the hovercar didn't bother her in the slightest, whereas I was clutching onto anything I could just to stop myself from passing out.

  “Wow,” I replied, tr
ying to hide my surprise. I failed miserably.

  “I know, we're living the dream, right?” Blayde turned to plant her eyes on mine. My heart stalled. Her expression was both patronizing and threatening, and I shuddered, shifting back toward the taxi door.

  Right next to the huge drop into nowhere.

  Well, I was caught between a mile-high drop and an immortal alien vacationing-assassin-or-something, but, hey, I tried not to think about that. My stomach continued to knot itself, going from crochet ball to dense neutron star.

  “I guess so,” I mumbled. After all, it was my dream outside that window, my astrolust being satiated. I was finally off-planet Earth. Finally in space.

  And I was in a taxi with a woman who was just a wee bit unhinged.

  The taxi pitched in a steep climb, shoving us further into the backs of our seats. The city slid by us in flashing neon colors. I clutched my bag against my chest even tighter, but, try as I might, I couldn't close my eyes. The view, though terrifying, mesmerized me.

  It felt like I was taking off in the space shuttle. The entire frame rattled and shook, and I wondered how anyone enjoyed traveling this way. I stole a glance at my co-passengers, but neither Zander nor Blayde seemed the least bit uncomfortable. They seemed used to it. Hell, they seemed to like it. Smiling, chilling, chatting. When the car leveled out, I felt sweat rolling down my face, but they were just two people taking an everyday drive through the city.

  I whipped my head away, but my eyes came face-to-face with the abyss, making me jump a foot off my seat, my body trembling. We had climbed much higher, way quicker than I had thought possible. I could see the tops of buildings now, and could no longer see the darkness of the bottom.

  “What kind of payment do you take?” Zander asked as he leaned forward to speak to the driver.

  “Anything Alliance,” the driver muttered. He definitely deserved a massive tip for helping with our getaway, if aliens even took tips.

  Zander checked his pockets, ecstatic to be wearing his favorite black jacket again. It looked remarkably like Blayde's, though it was more worn than hers. He pulled bill upon bill from his jacket, of every shape and size imaginable, chips of plastic and odd gems tumbling from his hands. It was like a personal, private collection of currency from around the universe in his pockets.

  “Alliance cash. Yeah!” He held out a bright blue bill, his level of excitement a little too high for just plain old money. “I guess our luck has finally turned.”

  Maybe it had. Maybe it hadn’t. But as Platform Six came into view, I wondered if I had made a mistake coming along for the ride.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Culture Shock as an Olympic Sport

  Platform Six loomed out of the window, a wide plaza that protruded out into the highway, leading to an entrance between the buildings that was at least five stories high and just as wide. It was as if a monstrous giant had crashed his way through the walls, carving a path for people to walk and live away from the traffic. As we alighted, the shops lining the wide alley came into view, leading to the riches beyond.

  Zander paid the driver, giving him a polite thank you as we tumbled out of the car. Well, I was the one doing the tumbling. My legs still shook from the ride, and probably from everything else I had been through, too. At least the air was more breathable up here.

  “Well, I'll be staying here,” said Blayde, sounding almost bored. “You two go and have fun, but that bar over is calling my name. Right over there, you hear it?” She pointed in the distance, at a small bar with a gigantic neon sign proclaiming it was the “Home of the Beer of the Blade. Only for Warriors.” in eerie, fluorescent light.

  “What exactly did we do last time?” She shook her head.

  “Judging by the fact that no one has tried to kill us yet, I suspect it was quite a long time ago. No one seems to have recognized us, and I don’t see any Wanted posters.”

  “True.” Blayde nodded once. “In any case, keep a low profile. Don’t get lost, and don't eat the pizza. I can hang onto the bag if you need.” The last part seemed rather forced.

  I turned around to see Zander mouthing a few words, stopping as he saw me. Blayde extended her hand, making a sound like a deflating balloon.

  “Thanks.” I handed her my bag, which she ripped from my grasp, then turned on her heels and left without another word. Honestly, I was glad to see her walk away. I would probably be murderous if I spent all day with her.

  “Hold on, I’m going to talk to the driver,” Zander said, but I wasn't listening anymore. No, I was too overwhelmed by the monster that was Platform Six. We were digging straight through the wall of buildings, the entrance a massive thoroughfare from the highway into the heart of the city. And we were evidently in the expensive part of town. The shops glistened with glamor, and everything radiated richness.

  A car alighted beside me, and out stepped two birds, elegantly groomed and wearing silk shifts, with elaborate markings on their short beaks. Their legs were as long as I was tall, and spindly, making me wonder how they supported their body weight. The taller of the two gave me a shifty look.

  “Macreneens don't like our eyes to linger.”

  I jumped. I hadn't noticed Zander’s sudden appearance at my side.

  “If we were on their home planet, they'd have you thrown out of the aviary for that transgression.”

  My face flushed. “I wasn't trying to be rude.”

  “It's okay. People are used to it here; it's such a melting pot. People often offend others without realizing it. They won't sweat the small stuff. They've learned to live with it. Purposeful culture insensitivity is a major offense, though. Anyway, come see!”

  Before I could respond, he took my hand again, pulling me along toward the city.

  “Hold up. Human here,” I said, but I laughed as we ran. Zander was excited, and so was I. I was on a freaking alien world.

  I thought he would take me to the massive passageway and into the heart of the block, but, no. He led me instead to the mural towering over the rest of the landing platform. The brightly colored orbs on the black ceramic background were dizzying in number and sizes.

  A star map. A huge, overwhelming star map crafted in a glittering mosaic on the wall. Probably no more than street art for the people who lived here but jaw-dropping for a little human from Earth.

  “We're here”—Zander hopped into the air to point at a specific star—“in the core of the Alliance. Earth's not even mapped, but your sun is. It's right about ... here.”

  He pointed into the distance to a small, insignificant dot.

  “The Alliance stretches all that way?” I took in the vastness of the mural.

  Zander nodded. “You seem impressed, but they're small players when you think about it. I've seen civilizations spanning not just solar systems but entire galaxies. Plural. Some had cities with hundreds, if not thousands, of planets. These are just your closest neighbors, Sally. Say hi.”

  “Hi,” I repeated, awkwardly. I was engrossed in the map, the hundreds of stars, the thousands of planets in this Alliance. It was surreal, seeing for myself the conglomeration of planets I had heard so much about but barely believed existed. It was more than my mind could process.

  “They have the same name for it as we do?” I stared at the little orb Zander had pointed out, with the little word “Sun” staring back at me, overlaid on the art with hologrammed pixels that twinkled in the air.

  “Nah, your brain is telling you what you want to see. I told you your translator’s top-of-the-line.”

  “I didn’t think it would still work after two years.”

  “Two years,” he repeated. His face shifted from being excited, to a flicker of a frown, to his usual grin in the span of a second. “You're far from home, Sally. Same galaxy, at least. No worries there. Just a few light-years. Where do you want to go next?”

  “What's this?” I asked, touching a large, silver orb sticking out of the wall.

  “Sally, no!” Zander lunged at me, but
it was too late. My fingers fluttered over the cold surface. A long, apple green man-thing appeared in front of the map. While it had the eyes and mouth of a regular human, it looked as if the rest of him had been squashed by a steamroller then reinflated to give him some depth. The thing was semi-transparent, and when it moved its mouth, I could see all the way through it.

  “Mr. Gilmag.” Zander shuddered. The weird green thing advanced like it had seen us, smiling with an unnaturally wide mouth.

  “Hi, I'm Mr. Gilmag! The Da-Duhui tourism board would like to welcome you to Kurai,” he said, in an obnoxiously chipper voice. “Please enjoy our outstanding locations for shopping and dining. I will be your guide on this journey of self-discovery.”

  “Off,” Zander said. “Program execute? Program complete? Program terminated? Zing? Zap? End? Exit? Escape?”

  “May I offer you a brief history of our city?” Mr. Gilmag ignored Zander's attempts to subdue him. “Ten thousand years ago, after the third galactic war, a treaty of nonaggression was signed between the planets of Pyrina, Da-Duhui, and Vorace. When a greater threat presented itself from beyond ...”

  “Just keep walking.” Zander put an arm over my shoulders to steer me away from the eager animation. “He shouldn't be able to follow us past a certain radius.”

  “It can follow us?”

  “And I can hear you,” said the hologram, putting its hands on its hips. “It's rude to interrupt. I'm not sure what quadrant you were raised in, but—”

  “Oh, my gosh, I'm so sorry.”

  I pulled myself from Zander’s arm and gave the hologram an apologetic look, but the poor thing looked hurt. I wanted to walk forward and give it a hug.

  “He's a program, Sally. He has no feelings. It's programmed to say that so you listen to the whole spiel.”

  “So what if I am?” Gilmag scoffed. “It doesn't mean I don't have feelings about—”

  With that, Zander pushed me back, and we were out of its sphere of influence. Mr. Gilmag disappeared into computerized nothingness.