by Kody Boye
I stared out at the sunset—at what should have been blindingly beautiful but now brought nothing more than nightmares—and sighed.
Soon it would all begin again.
Rather than wait for the inevitable, I turned, made my way out the door, and then began to make my way through the building until I came to the front lobby. This time there was no detachment of soldiers, armed to the tooth and nail and ready to defend me at a moment’s notice. Instead, there only Josh the sniper and Captain Sin awaited me.
“You know what to do,” Sin said as he handed me the flare gun.
I nodded and took it without response.
As I turned and made my way into the fading daylight, I shivered as a cool breeze came up and stirred the fine hairs at the nape of my neck.
Soon, darkness fell, and with it the Coyotes that heralded with Them the coming of the Gray aliens.
There was so much I wanted to know—so much that I wished to understand—but I knew it would be pointless to ask questions that had been otherwise specified.
After stepping away from the fortifications and into the nearby street, I raised my flare gun to the darkening sky and fired.
The Coyotes in the streets—having been paying particular attention to me—inclined Their heads to watch the flare’s trajectory as it sored through the air and over the roof of a nearby building, where it landed somewhere indeterminable and in a place where I hoped it wouldn’t start a fire. That was the least of my worries, though, as soon after a bellowing trumpet exploded through the air, instantaneously causing me to reach up and cradle my ears.
The ship appeared upon the horizon, materializing from its cloaking technology like a dark wizard descending upon the unfortunate earth.
I merely dropped the flare gun, tilted my head, and waited for the light from its magnificent being to engulf me.
Then I was in the air.
“What do you want in exchange for peace?” I asked as I pressed the record button on the small black recorder and waited for the creature to respond.
The Gray Overseer—which was likely the one I had spoken to before, given its height and the way its consciousness seemed familiar against mine—looked at me with its large black eyes and adjusted the slight folds of its mouth. It tested out a sound—as if unaware if it could properly communicate beyond means of telepathy—before it said, “The planet.”
Its English was broken, deep in pitch but cognizant in that I could understand it. At first I was too shocked to reply, such was my disbelief over having heard my native tongue spoken from the lips of an extraterrestrial creature. Then I realized that it was through us that They had learned, and almost immediately I began to seethe, as it had been through torture and experimentation on people—especially my father—that had created Their unholy understanding of what it was to be human.
“The planet?” I asked, trembling, taking extra care to hold the recorder as steadily as possible in order to not drop it onto the chrome floor.
“The planet,” the creature replied nonchalantly, as if this was a request made lightly and without consequence to the other party involved.
“Why?”
“Does it truly matter why we wish to obtain the planet in exchange for ceasefire?”
Ceasefire? I thought. How could the creature understand, or even use, such a term—if, like They so desperately claimed, this had only been the preliminary aspect of Their invasion?
“I think it does,” I said, clearing my throat in an effort to keep my voice as audible as possible. “The people will want to understand why you’re here, and what’s being exchanged for what reasons.”
“We wish to obtain the planet for habitation.”
“Why?”
“Our world was dying,” the creature said. “The flora gone, the fauna dissipating, the sun expanding in supernova at an alarming rate. It would have only been a matter of time before we would have succumbed to a similar fate as those lesser lifeforms upon the planet’s surface.”
“What’ll happen once we agree to peace?” I asked.
“Once humanity agrees to peace, the creatures you refer to as ‘Coyotes’ will be withdrawn from the planet’s surface. We will then begin to assimilate into the planet’s population.”
“What about the Serpents?” I asked. “Or the Reapers?”
The alien blinked, as if this were a question inane and without true merit. When it didn’t reply, and when it made no move to speak further on the matter, I sighed and continued on by asking, “How will you assimilate into the planet’s population?”
“We will descend and begin to create zoning treaties amongst your people. We will then eradicate what we deem as harmful to the environment and then rebuild your cities, towns and homes in a way that will benefit the planet as a whole.”
“What happens if we resist?” I asked.
“If you resist,” the creature said, and this time its voice took on a malice I couldn’t have previously imagined in a being testing out its use of English for the first time, “then we will eradicate the human species as a whole. This is within our power and capabilities to do so.”
“Why eradicate us when you were the ones who attacked first?” I asked, once more trembling—not from fear this time, but rage. I desperately wanted to turn the recorder off and simply lay into the creature, but knew that would be of no use. This creature—this supreme being—could destroy me so quickly, so simply, so easily. I could so much as raise my hand in anger and be cut down. Knowing this was enough to force me from reacting—and, ultimately, allowed me to keep my head. “Thank you for your time,” I decided to say, then lowered the tape recorder in anticipation to end the transmission.
“We do wish to propose an offer to you, Ana Mia Sofia Berrios, Earthling of the state of Texas.”
I paled, unable to comprehend what tricks the creature could possibly have up its sleeve. “What?” I asked.
Its black eyes glistened in the light streaming from the vibrant holographic displays all around, offering an insight into its subtle emotions as its mouth twitched and the near-invisible pupils in its eyes dilated. It was studying me, in that moment—determining the weakness it knew I held—and though I wanted nothing more than to recant all the feelings I’d experienced up until that point, I knew it would be worthless.
With a nod, I waited for it to continue.
“You have lost much in this war,” the alien said, “in this violent, senseless conflict between the two species. Your mother, your father, your sister—all were killed in one way or another. For this we wish to apologize.”
“Apologize?” I laughed. “You’re telling me you’re sorry after you did God knows what to my father and my mother and sister?”
“God is an equation that cannot be understood. Please do not bring it into this dialogue.”
“God isn’t an ‘it,’ for one,” I responded, my good old Catholic upbringing surging to the surface in but a moment. “And for two: how am I supposed to accept your apology when you destroyed everything I could’ve ever possibly loved?”
“Again: we apologize for the destruction we have wrought. It was not our intention for it to go this far.”
“Then why continue?” I asked. “Why not just pack up, turn around, and leave?”
“Because our resources are dwindling. We would starve before we reached another habitable world.”
I forced myself not to frown.
Had it intentionally revealed that information to make me pity it—and as a result, Them—or had it slipped up and revealed a weakness that we could use to our advantage?
“That’s why you’ve been leaving your ships,” I said.
“We require sustenance just as much as you do.”
“You said you wished to offer something to me,” I said, staring it straight in the eyes as I lifted the recorder to clearly capture whatever it was about to say. “Tell me: what is it?”
“We propose that you become an ambassador for the Gray peoples.”
“I said that we would like to propose—”
“I heard what you said,” I replied, unsure how to respond or even how to react to the offer that had just been delivered to me. “It’s just… you can’t spring something like an ambassadorship on me and assume I’m going to take it. You have to give me time to decide.”
“Then decide,” the creature said, “before we lower you to the ground.”
“That’s not the way we contemplate things.”
“Humans develop opinions, beliefs and feelings at any manner of moments. Why can you not develop a simple answer to our proposal?”
“Because it isn’t a ‘simple answer.’ It’s me deciding whether or not to betray my people and everything I feel and understand just to appease you.”
It blinked, then—the first time I’d ever seen the creature do such a thing—as if it hadn’t expected the reaction. Its thin mouth pursed and its bulbous, three-fingered hands shifted along its naked, sexless sides before it turned and made its way to a center panel, whereupon it a holographic projection of the Earth with several distinct markings floated in the air.
Though I wanted to refuse its offer, I knew that I would not be allowed. Dubois had chosen me to be humanity’s ambassador to the Gray alien species that hovered in our upper atmosphere, and with Asha incarcerated and suspended from thin wires, all it would take is a pair of scissors for her to be cut down.
I grimaced, swallowed, adjusted hold on the recorder, and said, “Okay.”
“Oh… kay?” the creature asked, turning to face me.
“I’ll do it,” I said. “I will be your ambassador to the Earth’s people. Just tell me what I have to do.”
“You will circumnavigate the world with us,” the alien said, “and be the human voice to the Gray cause. You will speak, via a holographic projector, to the people of Earth, and alert them to the assimilation that is to take place. You will do your best to assure your people that it is in their greatest interests to cooperate with us. Otherwise we will simply take what we believe to be rightfully ours.”
Theirs?
Theirs?
How could They believe the planet was ‘rightfully Theirs’ when They hadn’t even been here for a fraction of the time humanity, in all its various incarnations, had been?
“We will heal this planet,” the Gray alien said, “and return it to its proper status. We will destroy fossil fuels, integrate advanced technologies, clean your oceans, decimate your landfills, and ensure that this world has a proper chance of surviving. This is what we want, Ana Mia Sofia Berrios. Peace on Earth. Utopia. Splendor.”
“Return me to the ground,” I said.
“As you wish,” the creature replied.
The floor panel opened.
I began to fall.
It was here, while falling through the air and toward the ground, that I realized why my fellow companions had thought I was dead upon my landing. I was falling so hard, so fast, so abruptly and so suddenly, and it was only when I was inches above the ground that I was caught by some unseen force and allowed to fall gently to the Earth.
This time when I heard their voices, I was able to lift myself to my feet just in time for the Harvester ship above me to retreat into the upper atmosphere.
“Ana!” I heard Josh call. “Ana Mia!”
“I’m okay!” I replied, lifting the recorder and forcing a smile despite everything I’d been through. “I got Their demands.”
“Will They leave?” Cindy asked as she and Josh drew forward, carefully considering the Coyotes around us before turning their attention directly on me.
I sighed, shook my head, and simply said, “No. They won’t.”
Cindy and Josh lifted their eyes to the sky and frowned.
Though I understood their frustration, disbelief and unsurety, there was nothing I could do to help them.
All I knew was that Commander Dubois would either be pleased or furious. Which she’d be I could not be sure.
Chapter 5
They released Asha the following morning. Like any good friend, I stood awaiting her as several armed guards unlocked the doors and ushered her outside, all to the girl’s shock, awe and horror. She barreled into my arms almost immediately upon seeing me, and I held on to her for dear life as my friend sobbed hysterically against my shoulder.
“Ana,” she managed between choking sobs. “Ana Mia.”
“It’s gonna be ok,” I said, tightening my grip on her. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”
“Don’t leave me again. Please.”
I wouldn’t, and for that reason, took hold of her hand as I turned and began to make my way down the hall, toward the room that I had planned to share with her all along. Pursued by guards who were armed to the tooth and nail, we skittered like rats away from cats until finally we arrived at my room.
Once inside, I closed the door, drew the curtains over the examination window, and turned to face her.
Asha’s face was a wreck. Nose swollen from crying, cheeks inflamed from sobbing and eyes red as the blood in her veins, she appeared nothing short of distraught—which, as I approached her, I could see she was. She still trembled, as if caught outside in the frigid cold, and when she collapsed into one of the plush guest chairs she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and drew her feet up under her thighs in an effort to control the incessant shaking she could not combat.
“Do you want something to drink?” I asked. “Some water?”
Asha nodded, obviously too deep in thought to offer me a reply. I walked into the bathroom and withdrew one of several bottles of water and slid it into her hand, then uncapped it as I realized she was not moving.
“Asha,” I said, pressing a hand against her hot face. “You’re scaring me.”
“I’m suh-suh-sorry,” she managed as she tilted the bottle back and drank deeply. “I don’t muh-muh-mean—”
“Lie down,” I said, helping her out of the chair and then into the bed.
“My shoes—”
“Don’t worry about your shoes. They’ll bring changes of bedding by the time the day’s over anyway.”
A knock came at the door, startling me from affections toward Asha. I turned, opened the door, and was about to yell at whatever guard had knocked to go away when I saw Mary-Anne standing in the hallway—carrying not one, but two trays of food.
“Hi,” the girl said, obviously startled at having been greeted so abruptly. “I heard that they’d transferred the other girl down to your room and thought you two might be hungry.”
“Thank you, Mary-Anne,” I said.
“Can I come in?”
I cast a glance over my shoulder at Asha and frowned, unsure whether or not she would want company in light of everything that had occurred that morning. Rather than refuse, however, I stepped aside and allowed Mary-Anne in, only to watch her walk straight to the bedside and position one of the trays of food next to Asha’s head.
“Hello,” Mary-Anne said in as gentle and sweet a voice as possible to the girl who was still crying. “My name’s Mary-Anne. I’m sorry about everything they’ve done to you. I’ve brought you some food, though. You should eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” Asha replied, rolling onto her side. “Go away.”
It was only natural that Asha would see everyone associated with the hospital as an enemy, but whether or not Mary-Anne cared or took offense I couldn’t tell. Rather, she drew back, looked at me with sad eyes, and then mouthed the words I’m sorry before starting toward me and the doorway I stood in front of.
“Thank you, Mary-Anne,” I whispered as she walked out.
The girl only responded with a nod before closing the door behind her.
Once Mary-Anne’s footsteps receded, Asha rolled over, looked at the steaming food atop the plate, and sighed with content. “Food,” she said.
“You should eat,” I said, parroting Mary-Anne’s previous words. “You’ve probably burned
all the calories in your body by crying.”
“I know,” Asha replied, rolling her feet over the side of the mattress before picking up the tray of food. “You know her?”
“Her name’s Mary-Anne. She helps the soldiers by delivering food and other supplies to them.”
“When did you meet her?”
“Just the other day.”
“Is that how you knew how to… to…” Asha couldn’t finish her sentence. She merely began to pick at the food on her tray.
“Knew how to find you without being spotted?” I asked. “Yeah. That’s exactly how I knew.”
“So she could potentially be a friend?”
“Honestly,” I said, coming up to and then sitting down beside my friend, “I don’t know. I mean, she seems nice enough and all, but just because she’s nice doesn’t mean she doesn’t have ulterior motives.”
“What kind of ulterior motives could a girl like that have?”
“Like what?” I frowned.
“You know. Small. Meek. Insecure. Scared.” Asha bit into some of the rations and grimaced as she swallowed. “She’s not like us, you know.”
“I know,” I said, but neglected to say anything further. Maybe the two of us needed someone who wasn’t invested in militia life—someone who was, for lack of a better word, normal as normal could be. Mary-Anne might not have been a fighter, but she was still willing to serve her fellow people, especially the ones who protected her. That had to amount to something, right?
Rather than question the matter further, I reached forward, picked up my tray of food, and began to eat, still dreading the fact that I hadn’t explained to Asha what had happened onboard the Harvester ship.
When finally the girl was done eating, she set her tray on the bedside table, turned her body so she could face me, and said, rather bluntly, “What happened?”
So I explained to her everything I had gone through the night before—from being lifted, from interviewing the alien, to hearing it speak our native tongue regardless of the fact that it was from another world. When finally I got to the part where it said that it wanted me to be the human ambassador to another world, Asha’s face had paled and her mouth had dropped into a frown.
