by Kirby Howell
“My name is Greyson Alexander. I came to Earth in 1803, after leaving my home planet, Andros. I want to make sure you understand that I’m a human being, just like you are.” He said the last four words slowly, emphasizing each one. “I’m just from a different star system. Physiologically, I’m exactly like any other human male from Earth. This is my body that I was born with on Andros. I didn’t steal it from anyone. I’m not a parasite that inhabits people’s bodies. My parents didn’t send me here in a little space ship when I was a baby; I didn’t travel here in a lightning bolt, and nothing is going to pop out of your stomach if you kiss me.”
I was surprised when a chuckle escaped my lips at his recap of alien pop culture. Grey’s eyes lit up.
Encouraged, he continued, “You remember me telling you about eradicating emotions from our culture?”
I nodded. He stood up and walked over to a stack of bath towels sitting on a drying rack, waiting to be put away. As he unfolded one, he continued, “Twenty years before I was born, emotions became illegal on Andros. Our government believed emotions were counter-productive and that they hindered us from advancing our race. You’d be amazed at the progress we made after that.”
He rubbed his head for a moment, drying his hair. When he emerged from the towel, his hair stuck straight out, giving him a pleasantly rumpled look. “Have you ever tried to concentrate when something was bothering you? Takes a lot longer to be productive, doesn’t it?”
“So, you’re like that Star Trek character?” I asked, trying to remember if it was the guy with pointy ears who talked about staying rational, or if it was the Scottish one.
He laughed and handed me a fresh towel, then peeled off his wet sweater, laid it carefully across the fire-warmed bricks and sat back down. His gray t-shirt was damp in the front and clung to his chest, and I had to try not to stare.
“I’m with a group called The University,” he said. “We’re historians and scientists, and we pride ourselves on our ability to repress these natural impulses.”
Grey paused to check if I was following. I squeezed my wet hair with the towel and nodded for him to keep going. He leaned back against the brick wall beside the fireplace and continued, “I joined The University when I was seventeen and was a part of the team working on the Elemental Vitamin. It’s a supplement that preserves the human body and keeps it from succumbing to the aging process. You saw me taking my monthly dose yesterday.
“We tried to introduce the vitamin to the rest of the population, but they rebelled, saying it was unnatural to live forever, and tempers were already high because of the Emotion Eradication Act, ironically.
“There was a violent backlash against our government and The University.” Grey’s face began to look troubled. “On my eighteenth birthday, my parents asked me to leave. They were involved with a very radical group that opposed everything the government and The University was doing. We were one extreme, and they were another. We tried to keep order, but it was like trying to stop a dam from crumbling. They became violent, and there was an attack on The University—a bomb went off outside one of our laboratories. A lot of lives were lost on both sides. My parents were among them.”
I held the blanket tighter around me, as if I were trying to hold myself together. I wondered what kinds of emotions Grey had pushed away when his parents died protesting the very thing he believed in.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“We left,” he said, shrugging. “There wasn’t much we could do. We didn’t want to cause more problems by staying.”
“You left the planet?” I asked, bewildered. “Couldn’t you have just gone somewhere else?”
“Andros is very small and quite crowded, which is part of the reason we created the Elemental Vitamin. So our population growth could be controlled. Once we achieved a certain number, there would be no need for death or reproduction.”
I could get behind the idea of death not being our ultimate doom anymore, but no reproduction? No babies? No... sex? Well, I thought, if you’re repressing all your emotions, I suppose marriage, sex and babies would fall by the wayside.
I stood up, shaking off the blanket. The heat from the fire had warmed me substantially. “Are you hungry?” I asked him.
“Um, yes. I guess I am.” He followed me into the kitchen. It wasn’t so much that I was hungry, but that I felt the need to keep my hands busy. “Do you like peanut butter and jelly?” I began pulling items from the pantry.
“Love it,” he said. “One of my favorites. But... where did you get the bread?”
I batted my eyelashes at him. “Made it.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I’m impressed.”
“Good,” I laughed, realizing that my ease was due to my immense relief that he wasn't crazy after all. I pointed to a stool and said, “Have a seat. Tell me what you did after you left Andros.” Grey perched on the stool and watched as I took the bread from the fridge, cut thick slices and slathered them with peanut butter.
“We began visiting other planets, observing and recording history, learning and studying. We never interacted or interfered, and we tried to go unnoticed if possible. The University believes that every society has its own course, and it’s our job to observe and record as much history from as many sources as we can, maintaining the largest collection of sentient knowledge in the universe. I asked to come to Earth, because I’d heard it looked a lot like Andros.”
“It does?” I asked, surprised. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but pictures of giant, sleek cities and futuristic cars came to mind first. “Hope you like extra jelly,” I said and smiled at him as I handed him a plate.
“Is there any other way to have it?” Grey’s smile turned sad. “Earth looks so much like Andros I would forget sometimes I wasn’t home.”
We sat down across from each other at the kitchen table and began to eat. Rain pattered lightly against the window beside us.
“So... if you’ve been here for what... over two hundred years... where’s the rest of The University?” I asked.
“They’re around. Some are living on other planets, some are living on The University’s ship. Lydia and I are the only members currently living on Earth.”
“Why didn’t you just leave when The Plague struck?”
“We travel to and from our ship by astral projection. The University developed the ability after nearly a hundred years adrift in space. It’s quite handy, actually. It allowed us to be more than just explorers in space. Suddenly we could leave the ship. But it’s hard to get back. You see, The University ship is in constant transit. I can only project somewhere when I know exactly where it is. Think of it like this. If you see a target that’s affixed to a wall, you could throw a ball at it and probably hit it, right? Well, take that same target and imagine it moving all around the room at variable speeds, then try to hit it. Odds are, you’re going to miss. So the ship stops every four years at a rendezvous point, and the target becomes still again. When the Crimson Fever appeared, we were in between rendezvous times, so we couldn’t leave if we’d wanted to.”
“Okay, but if you’re not supposed to get involved, why did you? And Lydia?”
“It felt wrong not to help, so I did, and Lydia, well like I said, we’re partners, so she followed my lead. She was against the idea at first, but I’ve seen her crack some since then. The more time she spends in close quarters with others... I know she’s become as emotionally invested in those people as I have. It’s just another reason I think we’re not meant to live this way. My parents were right.” He paused a moment, then took another bite. “Wow, this is the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”
He polished off the rest of his sandwich, and I watched, impressed. I had barely gotten through half of mine, and he’d been the one doing all the talking. I took a deep breath, feeling full already, and detected a lovely citrus hint in the air. Instinctively, I looked toward my lemon tree, but it wasn’t there. Ben must have moved it to the roof. Why did I smell citrus
then? I inhaled again, and Grey watched me curiously.
“Do you smell that? The citrus smell? Like... lemons?” I asked.
He chuckled and said, “It’s probably me.”
“You?’ I asked.
“The E-Vitamin. I mix a small portion of it with Vitamin C. Citrus fruits are a good source for that. Sometimes I overdo it a little. Sorry.” He laughed.
Suddenly, I began putting the pieces of the puzzle together. The fruitless lemon tree that always seemed to smell faintly of citrus. The food and water jugs that mysteriously appeared. The shadow that had terrified me and made me think I was going crazy.
“You left me water and food, didn’t you?”
“I told you I checked on you.”
“I knew I saw someone in the kitchen that day! Why did you leave out the detail that you actually came into my apartment! I can’t believe you were here all those times? You could have just knocked on the door or something! Why did you leave when I said something?”
“It would have been too hard explain. I’m not supposed to be able to get up the elevator without your key, remember? And how would I have gotten your attention from the lobby?”
“I’m sure you would have thought of something, Mr. ‘I’m good with electronics,’” I grumbled, half-pleased that he had been watching out for me and half-scared that he might have seen me dancing around in my underpants.
He laughed, “Don’t worry, most often it was nighttime when I came.”
Good, I thought, he only would have seen me snoring in my bed with my mouth hanging open. Most likely drooling. Lovely. At least it would have been dark, and he wouldn’t have seen too many horrifying details... my thoughts slowed as a thought drifted to the surface of my mind. Something Grey had said back in his room. I can see in the dark. That’s how I recognized you.
“You can see in the dark. Is that like what night vision goggles do?”
He shook his head. “Not that well. Because of the E-Vitamin, I’m able to see better than most humans, but not quite as well as a cat.”
Another memory painfully popped into my head. I was flipping through the moments when I’d been alone with him in the dark, grateful he couldn’t see me, and landed on the time when he brought me the backpack I left in the crawlspace. Counting on the darkness to hide me, I’d changed in front of him. I was mortified.
“Why didn’t you tell me not to change in front you?!” I covered my face with my hands, trying to cover the blush creeping up my cheeks.
“I didn’t look,” Grey said seriously. “Please believe me when I say that over the years I’ve gotten pretty good at not invading people’s privacy.” He leaned across the table and pulled my hands down. “Don’t hide your face.”
His hands were warm around my own, and I felt the blush on my face deepen. I changed the subject. “So how old are you?”
Grey thought for a moment then said, “About the equivalent to three hundred Earth years.”
“And you look like that?” I said, gazing at his smooth face. “You could have sold your vitamin in a bottle and been a gazillionaire.”
He chuckled and said, “It feels good to talk with you about this. You have no idea how many times I imagined myself telling you. It feels really nice.”
“So you can go anywhere, by... projecting?”
Grey grimaced. “You could say I’m kind of the runt of the litter when it comes to astral projection. It’s not something I excel at.”
“You? Not excel at something?” I raised an eyebrow. “That’s hard to believe. We seemed to have made it here in one piece today.”
Grey smiled. “Carrying someone with me isn’t the hard part. You just need to have as much physical contact with that person as possible. When I project, I have to concentrate very hard. Otherwise, it’s very dangerous. I have to focus solely on where I want to be. And I don’t like having to do it blind. That’s the part that gives me trouble.”
“Blind?”
“It’s best if I’ve been to the location I want to go to before I try to project myself there. It’s easier to concentrate on it if I’ve seen it. It can be downright dangerous to transport yourself somewhere you’ve never been, because you don’t know where to place yourself in that location. You could end up twelve feet up in the air or inside a wall. There are ways to teach your mind to find a safe place to land, which is what I have problems with. My projection instructor called me ‘short-sighted.’"
“But when you left supplies for me, you had never been here—”
“I had, once before. When I brought you home.” I gasped, recalling the morning when I awoke on the couch.
“You recall describing this place in vivid detail to me?”
I nodded.
“It was very helpful. Almost as if I’d been here before. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” was all I could think to say in response, as I realized that today was my second time to be “projected” with him.
Grey finally interrupted my frazzled thoughts. “Would you mind loaning me some dry clothes to change into?”
“Of course,” I said and led him into my parents’ room, my room, and snapped on the light of the walk-in closet. I fumbled inside an old chest and found a pair of my dad’s jeans and a button-up shirt. I handed them to Grey, and his hand brushed mine. I looked up at him, and he looked down at me, and I was amazed. Baffled. Intrigued. Struck. Overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of all he’d told me.
I took a deep breath and murmured, “Grey, I...” My voice trailed off.
He brushed my jaw with his fingers. “Thank you for listening. And for believing me. I felt drawn to you from the moment I first saw you in that warehouse with Karl. I was there looking for antibiotics, and, when I saw you, I couldn’t move.” He smiled almost sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders slightly. “I guess I was falling for you before I even knew it.”
He stepped out of the closet and said, “Change into some dry clothes. Then we’ll talk more. Okay?”
He closed the closet door softly, and I stood there, dazed for a moment. Grey was falling for me? Had been falling for me when he brought me home that day? That was a fascinating bit of news.
I fumbled with the button on my wet jeans, my fingers wanting to move quicker than they were capable of. I slipped into soft, dry pajamas and reveled for a moment in their cleanliness.
When I opened the door, Grey was standing with his back to me, looking at my shelf of pictures. He had changed into the dry pants, but the shirt dangled from his hands, his torso bare.
I couldn’t help but stare at his perfect back as I walked over to stand with him.
“Your family is beautiful,” he said. I found the photograph he was looking at. It was the picture of me and my parents on the carnival ride on the pier.
I sighed, used to the hollow feeling in my chest when I thought of my parents. I heard a rustling noise as Grey slipped on my dad’s old shirt. I noticed a small vial on a long chain disappear under the buttons. It looked as old as the navy sweater he wore. I looked up at him and, as usual, he was already watching me, his face concerned.
“I don’t need to ask if you miss them,” he said, gesturing to the picture of my parents. My thoughts crashed into the wall I carefully built in my mind to stop myself from pointless self-pity. Of course I missed them, but I wasn’t going to go further with that thought.
I leaned into his side. “I’d rather not talk about it,” I said quietly.
His arms went around me. “Of course,” he said, combing his fingers through my hair.
This simple act only reminded me of my mother, and I sighed deeply and choked out, “It’s just not fair.”
He pulled me over to the bed, sat down and tugged me into his lap. I turned my face into his shirt, but didn’t cry. I didn’t want to. I breathed in his scent until I was able to calm myself enough to look up at him.
When I did, he took a breath to say something, but then closed his mouth again.
“What?” I a
sked.
“Nothing. Another time,” he said quietly and leaned in to kiss me. My fingers inched their way up his chest to his neck and trailed into his short, soft hair. He shuddered suddenly and pulled away from me. “You’re too good at this,” he whispered. “No wonder I crumbled.”
“Right. I’m not the one that’s good at this. It’s like being in a movie when you touch me.” I wrapped my arms around him, locking my hands together behind his back.
Grey tilted his head. “But I’ve never done this before. It has to be you.”
“Well, I’ve never really done this either, and I think you’re doing marvelously... although, I don’t have much experience to judge you against, so you might really suck at this, and I’d never know,” I teased.
“Now that’s just mean.” Grey made a face and suddenly lay back on the bed, pulling me with him and trapping my hands underneath his back. His fingers probed along my sides under my arms, but it was too late when I realized what he was doing. I shrieked in laughter and struggled to free my hands as his strong fingers tickled me. Gasping with laughter, I begged him to stop, and, when he finally did, I collapsed back onto his chest and tried to catch my breath.
“How is it so easy for you to suddenly experience emotions when you’ve been wired one way for three hundred years?” I asked, not moving my head off his chest.
“I don’t think I ever fully purged emotions from myself. It may not be possible at all to fully repress. I think I may have just locked them away somewhere. Now that I think about it, I cheated a lot once I got to Earth and was by myself more. Nothing that would ever really show. Just little things here and there that I allowed myself to enjoy. A sunset, driving on an empty road, traveling by horseback, a hot espresso when it was raining, the way a new book smelled. My biggest weakness, though, is watching the seasons change. Particularly when the leaves change and the weather cools. There’s something about that time of year that gets me. Watching people walk close underneath umbrellas or hugging to keep warm while they’re outside. People staying inside around a fire or together under a blanket. I like how the cooler temperature seems to bring people together physically. I guess I always craved that kind of physicality, but refused to acknowledge it.”
