Cheerleaders From Planet X

by Lyssa Chiavari

  And on the screen was my mother.

  I miraculously managed to keep from making any noise, but I staggered back, my brain screaming an internal, monotone shriek of absolute horror.

  It took a minute for my ears to catch back up, but eventually my mind processed that Andronicus was talking again. “You tried to talk to her the last time,” he said, his voice dripping disdain. “Look where that got us. That’s why we had to block her memories in the first place.”

  What?

  I mean… What?!

  “The implant was supposed to keep this from being an issue again. You assured us, Rose.”

  Mom gave him a look that she usually reserved for Tonio, or me, or any of our relatives when they got on her nerves. “Well, maybe it’s malfunctioning, Andre,” she snapped back. “Did you check it?”

  Implant? They’d blocked my memories? I gripped the door frame until my knuckles turned white. My mother had blocked my memories?

  “She was given a complete examination, and the implant was checked as well. It’s in perfect working order.”

  Shailene. They’d erased Shailene from my memories. I really had known her before. I was convinced of it now. My mom was the one who’d erased Shailene. But why? And what else had they wiped from my mind?

  “Well, maybe it needs an adjustment. Will it hurt her to have more memories blocked?”

  Oh, my God. Oh, my God. It wasn’t enough that they’d screwed around in my brain before, they were going to do it again.

  “That doesn’t resolve the issue at hand, though,” Andronicus said. I barely heard him, my mind was reeling so hard. “The situation with Earth is extremely tense right now. The peace negotiations between our governments have gone from strained to… well, nuclear would work in both the metaphorical and literal sense. Our intelligence has discovered—”

  I tried to pay attention to what he was saying, but I couldn’t focus. If I just hung around here, they’d wipe my brain again. I’d forget about the Anesidorans. I’d forget everything that had happened this weekend.

  I’d forget Shailene again.

  No. Fuck that.

  The more rational part of my mind told me I needed to get away from there as quickly as I could, escape before Andronicus got off Skype or whatever with my mom and noticed I was gone. But any rational thinking was being completely overridden by the fury growing in my chest. Rage at my parents and their secrets, at the Anesidorans for coming into my life and screwing it up not just once, but, apparently, multiple times. I didn’t know who they were, or how they were related to me, or why they thought they could control me, but I was done playing their game. They weren’t going to take me again, not without a fight.

  I looked around for some kind of weapon. My eyes landed on a blue urn full of dried pussywillow branches on a table a few feet away from me. It seemed bizarrely normal, like the sort of thing you’d see in a regular human doctor’s office, as opposed to some kind of secret alien health clinic, or whatever this place was. I grabbed the urn, pulling out the pussywillows and setting them silently on the table. Then I hovered in the doorway, watching.

  Mom’s face was gone off the screen. I hadn’t heard her disconnect—in my anger, I’d stopped listening. Andronicus leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. He seemed strained. How sad for him.

  I didn’t hesitate. In a swift, fluid movement, I shoved the door open, crossed the room in two steps, and slammed that urn down over his head as hard as I could. I was hoping it would break dramatically, but it just made a dull thunk. He let out a strangled cry and slumped in his seat.

  I breathed out, setting the urn down and peering cautiously at his prone form. Blood was seeping from a cut on the top of his head, red like a human’s. I didn’t think I’d hit him hard enough to kill him, but I checked his pulse to make sure. He was alive, just unconscious. I needed to move quickly.

  I swallowed and, squaring my shoulders, reached out and touched his face. My skin rippled, bubbling with warmth as it transformed. Even with the differences in anatomy, this change was not as severe as shifting into the sentry had been. Whatever Andronicus was, he really was closer to human than the other species of Anesidorans were.

  Or, at least, closer to what I was. Whatever that may be.

  As my skin changed, colors rippled across it, reminding me of my nightmare. In my dream, Andronicus had been standing over me, his face a kaleidoscope of colors. They danced across my flesh now, shifting and changing, before finally settling into the pale skin he usually wore. My heart pounded as I looked myself over. When I was satisfied the change was solid, I left Andronicus slumped in his chair, pulling the door closed behind me and striding down the hall as confidently as I could. If I encountered any other Anesidorans, I needed to be able to convince them that I was Andronicus. I needed to be calm, self-assured—smooth. I couldn’t let my fear consume me, couldn’t stop to dwell on my swirling thoughts, even though with every step I took, my mind screamed, “Mom, Mom, Mom.”

  I’d known I had to be involved with this somehow—that my parents were involved. But not like this. Dad had worked for the I.G.A. He’d fought for Earth. He’d lost a partner. How could my mom have been talking to the Anesidorans like she was on their side? Like she was one of them?

  “The I.G.A. are not your friends.”

  No. This was wrong. It had to be wrong. There was some kind of misunderstanding, or this was some kind of mind game Andronicus was playing with me.

  I couldn’t think about it. Not now. I had to keep a cool head if I was supposed to find Shailene and get the two of us out of here. Of course, that was assuming she was still herself.

  I refused to let myself believe otherwise.

  The door at the end of the hallway opened onto a metal balcony inside what appeared to be a repurposed warehouse, or maybe an old airplane hangar. I glanced over the railing and reeled at the sight before me.

  Spaceships. That’s all they could be. They looked like sleek, black versions of the old space shuttles that sat in the Space and Military Museum in City West. Three of them sat side-by-side in the wide, open space below me. Suddenly I remembered what Andronicus had said before he’d realized who I was, when he hadn’t been able to erase Shailene. “We’ll have to take her back to the base.”

  Oh, my God. This wasn’t just some random warehouse. This was the Anesidoran base.

  Sentries milled about, moving boxes and crates down the gangplank of the ship on the far right. I tried not to gape at them. They were going about their business, and I needed to look like I was just going about mine. I glanced around quickly, trying to get my bearings. The balcony wrapped its way around the building, doors dotting the walls every few yards. Where would they be keeping Shailene? The medical wing had appeared to be deserted apart from me and Andronicus. He’d said that they needed to alter Shailene’s implant, whatever that was. That sounded like a medical procedure. So if she wasn’t where I’d just been, maybe they hadn’t worked on her yet. If that was the case, she’d be in a holding cell or something, right? In a facility this size, there was sure to be some kind of brig.

  I followed the balcony around the base’s upper level, fighting the urge to hug the railing or shrink into the shadows. I was Andronicus. I owned this base.

  A pair of sentries emerged from one door, saluting me as I passed. I nodded curtly at them, glancing beyond them as the door swung shut. A large, open space filled with boxes—some kind of storage area. Probably not what I was looking for. I kept moving.

  On the opposite side of the hangar from the door I’d emerged through, a sentry armed with something that looked uncannily like a phaser stood in front of an otherwise nondescript door. Guarding it. That must be it. If they were still holding Shailene prisoner, she’d have to be guarded. Prisoners got guarded, right?

  Unless they’re prisoners named Laura Clark, apparently. I swallowed.

  “Sir,” the sentry said as I approached, stepping aside to let me through. Androni
cus must have been expected. I nodded at him as I had the other sentries and opened the door.

  I wasn’t sure what I’d expected on the other side of this door. A small room, maybe; some kind of closet that they’d have thrown Shailene into. But this—this was a jail. Cells lined the walls on both sides. They were all empty, their doors flung open wide, save the one in the back. A barred skylight dimly illuminated the room, casting stripes of light across her wan face.

  I tried not to react at the sight of her. Beside me, the sentry said, “The test subjects have been loaded onto the transport ships already, sir. The Striker is the last one.” He moved forward, unlocking the door to her cell. She crouched there, muscles tensed but otherwise unmoving.

  “Good,” I replied, hoping my voice held that same casual smoothness Andronicus always spoke with. “I’ll handle her. Dismissed.”

  A beat of silence passed, my heart pounding in my chest while I chanted a thousand silent prayers that I’d said the right thing, that the sentry wasn’t suspicious. Then he saluted, turning and closing the door behind him.

  We were alone. I’d done it.

  Shailene watched me warily as I stood in the open doorway of the cell, rising slowly to her feet. I stared at her, uncertain what to say, what to do. Had she been erased yet? Was I too late?

  Finally, I managed to squeak out, “Are you still you?” The words sounded odd in Andronicus’ voice.

  She glared, the hatred in her eyes unmistakable. Nothing like the cool blankness of Erikka’s eyes after the red lightning had struck. “Last time I checked.”

  Relief washed over me, and with it, something inside me unraveled. My skin began to ripple before I could stop it. I fought, for just an instant, to regain my grasp on the transformation, but it was like trying to hold on to water. It slipped between my fingers, and I was myself again.

  “Laura,” Shailene breathed, staring at me in disbelief.

  I looked down at myself, then back up at her. “Hey,” I said sheepishly. “Sorry it took me so long. Are you okay?”

  She moved her lips wordlessly for a moment. Her eyes looked different than usual. Darker, shinier. I realized after an instant that it was because there were tears in them. Before I could react, she’d flung her arms around me.

  Electric shock jolted through my body. I hissed, recoiling, as my vision went white.

  * * *

  It was the first day of eighth grade, and it was way too hot to be allowed.

  I managed to peel myself out of the crowd in the hallway and into the lab where my last-period science class was being held. I brushed my sticky hands off on my shorts. The first day of school, and already the air conditioner was broken. Everett was having a problem with vandals, our principal had informed us at the assembly this morning. Somehow they’d managed to climb up onto the roof and steal the copper out of the air conditioning unit. A pretty penny for them, and no cool air for us. It seemed to me that the reasonable solution would have been to cancel school—after all, it was supposed to reach a hundred and nine today, and the last thing they wanted was for their precious students to get heat exhaustion, right?—but of course not. School was too important. We just had to roast.

  “Sit anywhere you like,” the teacher said from in front of the whiteboard. “I’ll be announcing your lab partners and assigned stations after the bell.”

  Sigh. Assigned partners. Of course. I glanced around the room. My friend Charlotte waved at me from the back. It was too bad we wouldn’t be able to pick our own partners. Charlie was a total science geek, and it definitely wasn’t my top subject.

  I dropped my backpack onto the floor and clambered up onto the tall stool beside her. I pulled my glasses off, setting them to one side, slumping forward and resting my cheek on the cool granite countertop. “How are your classes?” I asked. I barely had enough energy to move my mouth and speak.

  “Fine,” she said, fanning herself with her composition notebook. “I’m just ready for this day to be over.”

  “Me too,” I said, turning my face to rest the other cheek on the granite. The stool next to me was empty, but a girl I didn’t recognize was sitting in the one beside that, in the back corner of the room. She had black hair that curled around her shoulders, and skin as pale as a sheet of paper. She looked like Snow White or something.

  My stomach flip-flopped, and I turned my face back the other way, hoping she hadn’t seen me looking. I had only recently figured out that I was more interested in staring at girls than at boys, and she wasn’t the first girl I’d seen that had made my cheeks burn.

  But she was definitely the prettiest.

  The bell rang, and I sat up, eyeing the teacher warily.

  “Good afternoon, everyone. I hope you’re all surviving this somewhat hellish weather. Though I should tell you now”—he gestured at the various kids around the room who were fanning themselves with folders, compositions books, and even their open hands—“doing that actually doesn’t cool you off. The energy you expend with the fanning motion just generates more heat and raises your body temperature. So if you could place your papers back on your worktops, we can get started. To begin, your lab partners…”

  He looked down at the planner on his desk and started rattling names off. He called everyone by their last names, like it was boot camp or something. I watched as my classmates moved around the room around me. Charlotte got paired with a kid with glasses who was about half her height. I should have known it would be too much to hope that we’d have gotten paired together. I just hoped my new partner wouldn’t be a jerk.

  “Clark-without-an-E?”

  I jolted in my seat. “Laura?”

  “Yes. You’re with Maximoff.”

  I looked around, uncertain who that was. I’d known everyone at my elementary school, but Everett Middle was a lot bigger. Apart from the kids I’d had classes with last year, I didn’t know that many people.

  Two seats away from me, the Snow White-looking girl caught my eye. Her face was gaunt and wary-looking. “Hey,” she said, shoving her backpack across the floor with her foot and getting up to take Charlotte’s empty seat.

  Oh. So this was Maximoff.

  I avoided her gaze as she sat down beside me, hoping the heat was helping disguise my blush. My face had definitely been red enough from it all day.

  The two of us sat silently for a minute while the teacher called out the rest of the names. When it became obvious she wasn’t going to be the first one to talk, I took the leap. “Did you know you have the same last name as the Scarlet Witch?” I said. “She’s my favorite X-Man. Er, X-Woman. X-Person.”

  I wasn’t sure how she would react to this, but to my relief, she grinned crookedly. Warmth spread from my fingers to my toes. “Really?” she said. “That’s cool, I guess. I hate my last name.”

  I didn’t know how to react to that. I’d never really thought about my last name, or whether it was likable or not. It just was. “Well, what about your first name?”

  She made a face, like something smelled bad. “I hate my first name even more than my last name.”

  I frowned. What kind of person was this that the teacher had partnered me with? “What is your first name?”

  “Ivanka.”

  I grimaced. “Yikes. Can’t say I blame you.” She looked down, and I jumped to change the subject. “Well, what should I call you? Do you have a different name you like?”

  The girl shrugged. “I have a name I like, but it’s dumb. It’s not my real name.”

  “Of course it’s not dumb!” I said. “People should call you what you want to be called.”

  She looked up at me with a surprised expression. “Really? You don’t think it’s weird?”

  I grinned, showing off a mouthful of braces. “Definitely not. So what should I call you?”

  Her face looked red. It was ninety degrees inside, after all, I told myself.

  “Shailene,” she said. There was weight to the word when she said it, like speaking it out loud made i
t official. Like she’d declared, This is who I really am, and the words had bent the universe, forcing it to accept it.

  I nodded, smiling. “Shailene is a pretty name. It suits you.”

  * * *

  She pulled away from me, eyes wide. Both of us were struggling for air. She braced herself against the bars of the cell, her shoulders moving up and down with her labored breathing.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, pushing the heel of her hand against her eye. “I forgot. I was just so relieved to see you…”

  “It’s okay,” I said, squeezing my own eyes closed, inhaling through my nostrils. That had been a memory. That was one of the memories that I’d been missing. That my mom had taken from me.

  Had Shailene seen the same thing?

  Now wasn’t the time to ask her. We had to get out of here. I couldn’t dwell on it, couldn’t think about what I’d just seen… couldn’t wonder about what else was hiding in my mind.

  I looked down at my hands in frustration. “How are we supposed to escape if I lost Andronicus’ form? I’d been hoping we could just walk out…”

  Shailene brushed off the knees of her filthy workout pants and clenched her fist. “The old-fashioned way. Speed and brute force.”

  I grimaced. “Awesome. My favorite.”

  She nudged my side with her elbow, careful not to make any skin contact. “You’ll be fine. But we’ll have to move fast, before they get a chance to figure out what’s going on.” She moved to the door, opening it the tiniest crack and then silently closing it. “That sentry is still out there,” she whispered.

  “What? I told him ‘dismissed’!” I protested.

  “Well, apparently that just meant ‘leave the room’ to him. It’s fine, I’ve got this.” Before I could blink, she’d ripped the door open, grabbed him in a stranglehold, and pulled him back into the room. The door swung shut behind them.

  I jumped forward, grabbing it just before it slammed. “Are you freaking serious?” I snapped.