by Li Hill
"They're cool." Tom gave Iilo's exoskull another pat.
"If our secret gets out, I don't know what'll happen." Iilo went pale.
"We'll get through this. You're not alone anymore. Just remember that." Tom nudged Iilo's shoulder. He was always so surprised when Iilo didn't fall over. But then he remembered when he'd carried Iilo home, the power behind such a small frame.
"I don't want to take you to see his family," Iilo said.
Tom frowned, knowing who he was. The I'na he'd killed.
"At least—not yet. Not with all this happening. I don't know what they'll do, and I don't want you to leave me."
"Hey. I'm not going anywhere." Tom had contemplated for a long time on what he'd do with moments like these. I'na were affectionate, but when Iilo looked like this? He knew he had to do something. He took Iilo's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, matching it with a smile. His hand was small and cool, and for the first time, Tom didn't think about frantic hands that clawed for his throat in the Louisiana heat. He just thought about Iilo and his soft frown.
Iilo looked up at Tom with large, shimmering eyes. Purple filtered into his cheeks and his neck. He bit his lip, looking away.
Tom's heart panged, a pointed reminder that he couldn't often control how he felt. Iilo was a lost bird, trying to navigate his life in a world he didn't know, longing for a world he'd never seen. He'd tumbled into Tom's life and Tom hadn't stopped to appreciate what that meant. Standing here, his hand holding Iilo's, it was more than just friendship.
Tom was healing, and so was Iilo. They both had skeletons in their closets. Both had fears ruined by the harsh realities of life. But that was part of life's journey. The way people navigated life, how they chose to tell their stories—that's what made life worth living.
Tom had a story. It started with a glowing ship in the sky and a shot that was said to echo around the world. It met twists and turns, foxholes in swamps and shitty service where he couldn't call his dad to tell him he loved him, just in case. But the river kept flowing and Tom's story was still going. It brought an I'na into his practice. It brought him a friend.
Tom squeezed Iilo's hand again, and then let go.
Chapter Eleven
They walked close to each other, feet in step. Tom worried someone would yell at Iilo for their proximity, and the last thing he wanted was to get Iilo in any more trouble. There was a target on Tom's back now, and he didn't know when the arrow would plunge in.
There was another car parked behind Tom's. Sleek, white, and the one Tom had seen when he first visited the settlement. A man with dusty blond hair stood next to it, his nose close to his phone as he typed.
"Wait," Tom said, peering at the guy. Familiarity brewed in his mind, but it was a fog, hazy and unnavigable. He stepped closer, eyes squinted. Then he remembered Letic talking about a Caleb before.
"Tom?" Caleb Polanski. Tom would recognize that stupid grin anywhere.
"No way!" Tom opened his arms wide. "Jesus, I haven't seen you since discharge. Some of the I'na mentioned a Caleb was around, but I didn't think it'd actually be you."
"You look just the same!" Caleb embraced Tom, clapping him on the back a few times. He still held Tom's shoulders when he said, "Your hair—your—what the shit man, you're out of the army!" Caleb ran his hand back and forth over Tom's head.
"I just got used to it!" Tom offered a crooked smile. It was always a weird sensation, seeing someone who had meant so much to him before, but Tom embraced it. Caleb was the smile Tom had wanted to see in the mornings when they were out in the field.
"Dude, small fuckin' world. I thought you lived in Indiana?" Caleb's eyes sparkled, and Tom couldn't figure out if they were green or blue—or gray. They changed each time he blinked, the sun hitting them at different angles.
"I moved out here when I got a job as a Legal Aid attorney. I work for myself now though."
"No shit! Attorney?" Caleb poked Tom's belly a few times, smiling wide. "No wonder you look so good. You can afford it!"
"Easy for you to say." Tom jerked his chin at the fancy car behind them. "What's that all about?"
"Oh? This is Betty. She's my life, really. I work for the company that owns the I'na's land. I just come out here to check on everything and make sure they've got what they need." He looked past Tom at Iilo, his smile telling a story that Tom wasn't sure he understood. Sadness and hope, remose. There was something there and Tom couldn't figure it out. "Hey, Iilo."
"Oh—shit—Iilo? This is Caleb. We served together."
Iilo smiled. "We know each other. Caleb's great."
"Dude, it's seriously good to see you." Caleb brought his phone up. "Number? We should do lunch real soon. I'm here for a while."
"Yeah that'd be great." After Tom pulled his out, they both flicked their phones in each other's directions, receiving little pings when they downloaded each other's contact information. "Carlos and Sam're here too. If you wanna see them?"
"I'd love that. Man, this amazing. I hope you've been doin' good. Really." Caleb fidgeted with his phone. "I know things went to hell back then."
"Yeah." Tom looked away, fighting hard to stay focused on the grass.
Iilo sidled up to him and took his hand. To him, maybe it was just to ground Tom, but right in front of Caleb, it seemed out of place and misleading. Tom pulled his hand away. He liked Iilo, but he still didn't know what to do with that, if anything at all. There was so much going on in Iilo's life, would it really be fair to make it that much more complicated?
Caleb looked between them, a gentle smile on his lips. "Glad you seem to be healing though. Working with the I'na's helped me a bunch too."
"Yeah. It's been good for me." Tom flicked his gaze to Iilo's frown. He swallowed hard.
"But hey, I gotta go. I'm supposed to talk to the Elect about some greenhouses. I can't wait to see you all though." He waved and then jogged off between the humming spires and up to the old Victorian.
"He's here a lot. Surprised you two didn't bump into each other sooner," Iilo said.
"I'm glad I did. I didn't realize how much I missed him till just now."
Time heals all wounds, or so the old saying goes. Time had taken Caleb's smile from Tom's mind. It had taken the laughter and the jokes. It had hidden away the pain when they'd all left each other with damaged minds and broken souls. But time couldn't keep the memories at bay. They sloshed through like a flood, and Tom was left reeling. He replayed each night Caleb had been under his command, alarmed by the clarity when he remembered it had been six years ago.
"Tom?"
"Yeah. Sorry. Seeing him just got me thinking. Wanna go into town with me?"
Iilo nodded, making his way toward the car. He smoothed his hands over his shirt, a curious expression on his face. "Did I make you uncomfortable?"
"Huh?"
"When I took your hand. I wasn't thinking."
Tom's heart warmed in a way he didn't want it too. He'd liked it, just like he'd liked the way Iilo's hands touched his face. "I panicked in front of Caleb. It wasn't about you."
Iilo stared out the front window. His brows crinkled as he processed this information, which wasn't much to work with and yet he tried so hard. Tom watched it all dance across his face. It'd be so easy to say it was because Tom wanted to hold Iilo's hand. But Tom couldn't risk hurting Iilo, not when so much rode on his shoulders. It'd been fear. Tom wanted it, which probably meant he shouldn't have it.
Today had been big. The FBI, meeting the head of the Elect. Caleb. The world had a magical way of pulling people together when they were needed. It had pulled Iilo and Tom together, and now Caleb. Reaching over the gearshift to turn up the heat. He didn't believe in fate, but he believed in something greater, whether that was God or the laws of nature. He believed things happened for a reason, and he believed meeting Caleb here, among I'na, had a purpose.
His hand tingled from where Iilo had held it. He believed that had a purprose too.
Chapter Twelve
They'd finally made a trip into Lincoln for the Outreach Center. Tom's burning question about whether other I'na communities had mysterious disappearances lurking in his mind. The FBI would never know unless Tom actively looked into it, Parker's warning be damned.
Tom and Iilo got out of his car, watching two metal arms pick it up to be sorted in a parking garage. Tom swiped his wallet over the pay-to-park receptor and headed for the I'na shelter.
There was a US Army recruiting building nearby where Sam said she'd meet them. It loomed over Tom, holographic signs of military personnel from varying backgrounds. He remembered the day he'd gone to the recruitment office. The Marines had joked that he'd made a mistake when he signed up for the army.
He and Iilo passed a few business buildings, all sandy or gray in appearance. Lincoln was a mix of old buildings with new, a ball stadium, and chain stores.
Sam greeted Tom and Iilo at the recruitment center. She was dressed up in a pin-skirt suit, sharp, clean, and smiling. She treated Iilo like a long-lost friend, pulling him into a hug and cupping the back of his head.
Iilo laughed, squeezing Sam around the middle while they exchanged greetings.
"Dude—I get ashy the second the weather changes. Fuckin' dry as hell out here." Sam offered her hands so Iilo could plop some lotion into them.
Tom watched her rub them together violently.
"Do you use Bath and Body Works?" Iilo asked. "That's not the best. I'll start peeling if the weather's too cold. Or hot."
"Peeling? Like a sunburn?" Sam's eyes widened.
They continued their conversation, happy and oblivious to Tom's proximity. Not that Tom cared. He didn't get dry skin all that often.
The recruitment center was bigger than the one Tom had signed up with in Gary. Booths lined the walls with sharply dressed military personnel. There were a few doors with signs above that said THIS WAY TO I'NA OUTREACH CENTER. Tom didn't like that the military were quite literally attached to a place that was supposed to be for mutual understanding and education. Then again, the world wasn't perfect. At least there were I'na in police uniforms patrolling around.
"I'm glad you two came." Sam walked with her hands folded behind her back. "This is a huge step for you."
Tom didn't like being under her microscope, but he knew she meant well. He even wanted to talk to her about what he was feeling for Iilo, but as with all things, there was never enough time. But if it arose, he'd have to make that jump. Plaguing over what he felt was becoming as predominant in his mind as his desire to see the I'na returned to their communities, or at least getting answers.
"Carlos is already at the Outreach Center." Sam pointed in its direction. "He's been asking around for you two, but he's been here like ten minutes." Sam opened the door to the Center. There was a giant hologram of an I'na shaking the hand of an army general. STRONGER TOGETHER, the banner read. Tom rolled his eyes. Perhaps it missed the memo of why they needed a military presence here. People feared the I'na—just like they feared anyone different than themselves.
"Could I go into where the I'na stay the night?" Iilo asked.
"I don't see why not. Just wash your hands when you leave. Don't go into quarantine though. I don't want you getting sick." Sam cupped Iilo's cheek before sending him off. The gesture was so intimate that Tom jerked back. He relaxed when he remembered I'na were overtly affectionate. Sam worked with the I'na, so of course she'd know their customs.
"How's therapy with them?" Tom asked.
"Good. They're a seriously optimistic bunch here. The ones from Georgia I told you about? Some pretty unfortunate shit happened down there, but they're really strong. How're you doing? Really. Your face has been in a permanent frown since you got here."
Now or never, Tom thought. He shoved his hands into his pockets, looking around at the billowing promotional tapestries. "It's been good, I think. Iilo's been good."
Sam pulled them against a wall and crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't make me pull it out of you."
Tom rubbed his fingers back and forth over his bristly hair. He sighed, feeling more like he was preparing for a dentist to pull his teeth than open up to one of his closest friends. "Do you think I'na are attractive?"
Sam's brow arched on her face.
"So much's happening, and I don't know how to get it all right in my head. I think I—well, there's—fuck, I don't even know how to say it."
Sam waited, patient like stone.
"I think I like Iilo. It's been there for a while. But I haven't really thought about it? But we were sitting in this field and he touched me and my whole body just, I don't know, woke up? Like my mind was finally able to tell me a secret it's been keeping."
"And that terrifies you." Sam didn't need Tom to explain. She could read his mind better than he could.
"He's dealing with all this and I'm dealing with, well, you know. My own shit." Tom thought he would feel better, finally confessing to someone instead of his own head. But he didn't. He felt sluggish and weighed down. He couldn't hide it anymore. But if he tried and he'd misread, or if it was too soon… He was scared of hurting Iilo, of ruining this friendship they'd grown together. Because if nothing else, Tom had befriended an I'na. He'd come to their land and met with their people. He saw them as people and not creatures in his nightmares. He saw children, friends, and families. He saw fully realized people. All because of Iilo.
"I think it's good to be aware of your situations. You need time to figure yourself out. PTSD isn't a wound in the skin. It doesn't just heal. But there is recovery. Whether Iilo is part of that or not, you have to figure out for yourself. And there's no shame in testing those waters. If you like him, and he likes you"—she smiled—"just see where it takes you."
Tom could breathe for the first time. He let it all out, rushing from his tired lungs. Sam understood, and better, she had a solid suggestion that didn't leave Tom dangling off a cliff with uncertainty. It was okay to feel what he felt, and it wasn't wrong to want to try it. Taking his time and exploring it. He could do that.
"You're doing great. Keep seeing your therapist and open up about these things."
"I haven't seen him since I saw Iilo."
Sam pulled them from the wall and started walking over to the Outreach Center. "Well, then make time, Tom. It's important."
It was important. Tom couldn't let his life be swallowed up by this. He had to make room for it, like he had to make room for what happened to him. Like he would make room for Iilo and these feelings he couldn't keep ignoring. His feelings were like dry leaves too stubborn to detach from a tree. They clung to him, a promise that if he let them fly away, they'd only return come spring, bigger and more alive.
"Hey!" Carlos stood up amidst several I'na children around a reading area. One was hanging off his bicep, giggling.
"Takin' them to the gun show, I see," Sam said.
"These little rascals are breaking the law." Carlos turned to them, his fingers wiggling. "They're avoiding naptime. That's a federal offense! Do you know the punishment?"
All the children stared up at him with open-mouth wonder.
"Tickling!" Carlos scampered off toward the children. Shrieks pierced Tom's ears. He laughed, watching Carlos chase the children around brightly colored tables.
"Clearly he didn't get far." Sam rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed how she felt. Sam wasn't the kind of person who got irritated. Tom understood why she'd stayed with the military. She could handle the conflict better than Tom ever could. "The adults are in the next room. C'mon." She hit Tom's chest with the back of her hand to get his attention.
The room was lit up by the sprawling floor-to-ceiling windows in the back. Sunlight trickled in, blotting Tom's eyes with little splotches of blue and purple. He squinted, holding up his hand to look around the room. Couches, tables, and a snack area took up most of the room. The corners were reserved for books on languages, education, and human ways of life.
"What's the outreach center do?" Tom asked.
"Helps I'na learn about humans. The government wanted it to be the other way around too, but the I'na don't have much left, really. They do oral histories a lot though and some people come. It's starting to be a weekly event. Lots of teens are interested in the I'na." Sam looked at her watch, cursing. "I gotta go. Ask around. Let me know if you hear anything. I'll report it up the chain. And Tom?"
He turned to her, waiting.
"It's okay to like Iilo. It's not a punishment for what happened."
Tom sucked his lips in. He didn't know what to say. Sam had pierced into the heart of the matter. She'd left him with hope and the unfortunate sensation that he now had to keep moving forward. That didn't mean go up to Iilo and ask him on a date. It meant to think about it, to decide for himself if he was ready. It just meant being aware, and even that scared Tom.
He stood in the middle of the room, unsure how to approach random I'na. With Iilo, it was easy now; he knew him. But Tom didn't know the I'na that kept sneaking glances his way. He swallowed hard, chewing his bottom lip.
He found an elderly I'na woman knitting a scarf. Her eyes were pure red, her ID glowing like a galaxy across the exoskull.
"Hello," Tom said, "I'm Tom. And you?" Start simple. An introduction was simple.
She merely looked up at him, wrinkles spreading around her eyes. She blinked a few times, then pat the bench next to her for him to sit. "Nenen."
"Which settlement were you at?" Small talk settled nerves, or that's what Tom had always been taught. Both in military and in law school. It had to be right if so many felt that way. Judging by this elderly woman's smile, he didn't have much legwork to get through, but he didn't want to wipe that smile away either. That became the tricky part.
"Atlanta." Her voice was dust and ruin. She'd survived space flight, the journey here, and a First Contact War. There was much that Tom wanted to know from her, like her survival, her story. He'd become curious since knowing Iilo. Learning about the individuals helped Tom forget about the faceless terrors that stayed in the recesses of his mind.
