Starstruck

by S E Anderson

  “Safest way,” he replied. “Give me your hand if you're scared.”

  “Scared?” I shouted. “Of course I'm scared. This is suicide.”

  “Have I led you wrong?” he asked. “Ever?”

  “I’ve only known you for a week!” I snapped, but I grabbed his hand like it was the last lifeline in the middle of the ocean and closed my eyes. Seconds later, we were falling.

  Plummeting was more like it. The wind ripped the bun away in seconds, my hair pulling itself upwards as I tumbled toward Earth. Zander screamed in excitement, squeezing my hand tightly.

  I forced my eyes open, the land rushing toward me at a vertiginous rate. And yet I could see it all, recognize the large cities, the huge hives of light in the middle of the dark expanse. I could see my world beneath me. It was small, and it was huge, and it was incredible.

  And then I began to choke.

  Falling from near outer space does that to you.

  I gasped for air too thin to breathe. My lungs burned, begging me to take a breath, a real breath—

  The ground felt soft against my face.

  Where it had come from, I didn't know. It was just there. No harsh slap, no crash, no pain—only soft grass caressing my cheek as if I had fallen in a dream but awoke in my bed.

  If my bed was a park.

  “Sally?” a voice said awkwardly. A hand reached for my hair, trying to move it out of my face.

  “I'm fine,” I replied. My mouth was still pressed against the earth, so it sounded more like “uh-huh,” which worked fine too.

  Zander laughed, falling back on the grass with a loud thwomp. I rolled over and found myself laughing too, the rush of endorphins sending me into a fit of giggles that made my abs hurt.

  I was alive. Alive.

  “How did we …” I asked, between guffaws of relief.

  “We jumped,” Zander replied. “We should be close enough to home.”

  I fell against the grass again staring at the stars above. I was on Earth again.

  I stamped my foot, snapping off the stiletto heel. Thwack—the second foot was free as well. I used my toes to slip off the instruments of torture. There—I was free. Alive and free.

  “There's just one thing I don't get,” I said, sitting bolt upright.

  “Shoot,” Zander replied, the laughter subsiding.

  “If we were falling that fast,” I asked, “how come we hit the ground softly? I mean, we didn't hit it. We were just … here.”

  “Because I jumped.”

  “But where did the momentum go?”

  “I folded time and space for you, and you're worried about some lost momentum?”

  “It has to be conserved,” I muttered. “Where did the momentum from our fall go?”

  “Wherever we went when we slipped through the fabric of the universe.”

  “Which is?”

  “Nowhere.” He shrugged. “Everywhere. Honestly, I've never been bothered by missing momentum before. It's been darn useful.”

  “We just negotiated with aliens,” I pointed out.

  “Nice observation skills.”

  “We saved the planet?”

  “You betcha.” Zander grinned, throwing himself back down on the grass. “Well, for now.”

  “Whoever your sister is, they were scared of her,” I said, eager to get some answers. “The Killians, I mean. They were terrified of you. No, scratch that. They were scared of you, terrified of me. What can Blayde do? Zap people with lightning bolts or something?”

  “No,” he replied, suddenly going cool. “My sister can’t control the elements.”

  “But the way they looked at me—”

  “Blayde's reputation is built on gossip and legend,” Zander said sternly. “Not everything they believe about her is true, which is good when you want to make a power play. By the way, great job. Fantastic performance. It's hard to believe you've never met her.”

  “I'm kind of wondering if I want to.”

  “She's a hoot.” He chuckled, staring at the stars with a sigh. “She talks big when in truth she's, well, she's Blayde.”

  “Hope I'm still around when she gets here.”

  “I hope so, too,” he replied. “Thanks for tonight.”

  “No problem.” I lay down on the grass. “So, are we even now?”

  “Were we not?”

  “I dunno.” I shrugged. “I ran you over, you saved my life …”

  “Don't keep tabs on life like that,” Zander said. “What's a friendship if we don't have each other's backs?”

  “So, we're friends?”

  “Aren't we?”

  “It's kind of hard to know these things when it comes to intergalactic roommates,” I pointed out.

  “Sally, you're the closest thing I've had to a friend in years,” he said earnestly. “I'm not saying this lightly. I wouldn't have asked just anyone to pretend to be my sister.”

  “I'm flattered.”

  “I'm flattered you're flattered,” he replied. “Anyway, let's get to some real beds. And let's hope we're in the right park.”

  We weren't. Not even close.

  “Central Park?” I snapped, marching across the asphalt and staring at the sign with wide-eyed amazement. “Central effing Park?”

  “So, it’s the right one?” Zander glanced in every possible direction, somehow seeing in the near darkness.

  “It’s not even the right state.”

  “Right country, though?” He shrugged. “We were falling toward Earth rapidly, I'm amazed I managed to get us to an empty park at all.”

  “Well, thanks for that,” I replied, throwing out my hand for him to take. He stared at it, unsure of how to proceed.

  “What's that for?”

  “Take us back,” I ordered.

  “I can't.”

  “You can fold the universe. Take us home in the blink of an eye.”

  “Not if I can't see where I'm going,” Zander scoffed. “We could end up three solar systems off and three hundred years in your future. We have to go the human way.”

  “You're kidding me.” I rolled my eyes in a wide circle, “This means we're going to have to find a train or a bus and I … Zander?”

  “What?”

  “Where's my stuff?”

  “In the bathroom at the restaurant? But it's all right, I grabbed your purse for you.”

  “Well, that's lovely.” The wallet had my card and some cash in it, which was a small relief. Zander said nothing. He paced around the small, grassy knoll with his eyes riveted on the stars.

  “Where are we, then?” he asked, calm enough for the both of us.

  “New York City. A cultural hub. A megacity of a dozen or so million people.”

  “Oh, cool.” He grinned excitedly. “Let's get some dinner. What's this place famous for? Does it have gigantic statues? Does it have museums?”

  “We may be a little late for dinner. What time is it?”

  “A little past eleven. So, food?”

  “How can you think of food at a time like this? We fell out of an alien spaceship.”

  “Best time for food if there ever was one,” he replied. “Come on, let's eat something, then we can worry about getting back to Franklin. You said it yourself, we saved the planet. We deserve some cake. You, especially.”

  “Me?”

  “After that performance, you need a bouquet and an encore.” Zander chuckled. “You know what, Sally, I underestimated you. You do amazingly well under pressure.”

  “Never again.” I shook my head, taking hesitant steps on shaky legs, my feet bare after being ripped out of the stiletto heels. Which I then realized I shouldn't have done, seeing as we had a way to go.

  “We need to get you some shoes,” Zander said. “Would you like me to carry you?”

  “I'm fine,” I replied, but I did take his arm. “Where would we get shoes at an hour like this?”

  “Leave that to me,” he answered, guiding us to the grass, which felt much better on my toes. />
  But cold. Oh, so cold.

  “Keep an eye out for dog crap. I don't want to step through that.”

  “Dog?”

  “Furry domesticated animal, common household pet,” I replied. “Four legs, tail, panting tongue.”

  “Oh, those fluffy creatures.” He nodded.

  “The ones on the leash. The small ones with pointed ears are cats.”

  “Oh, I'm well acquainted with them,” Zander said as we reached the street.

  “Right, we’ll find some food then we’ll get directions to Grand Central Station and ride home. I don't want to spend any more time out than I must. Matt thinks we're fixing pipes, and Marcy might get worried.”

  “Of course, but first … wait here.”

  He took off like a bullet down the street, vanishing from my view. Seconds later, someone yelped.

  “Oh, honey, those shoes.” The voice didn’t even sound like Zander’s as it rose through the air, punctuated by a shrill eeek of excitement. “Do you have any idea what you are wearing on your feet? A gold mine. Those are the most dramatic shoes I have ever seen. I simply must have them. Come on, I'll give you anything. Anything.”

  He had returned with bright pink flats in hand, smiling sheepishly as he handed them over. I was impressed by how well they fit, though they were sweaty and a little gross. It was better than going barefoot.

  “How on earth did you pull that off?” I asked, leaning on Zander as I slipped them on.

  “Tossed a few crystals at a woman. Currency on Turbij is worth more here than there. They fit?”

  “Perfectly,” I grinned. “Let's go.”

  * * *

  “Your shift's up,” Zander said with a yawn, stretching in his train seat.

  “What shift?”

  “You weren't keeping watch?” he said, glancing up and down the empty compartment. “Seriously?”

  “For what? We're in an empty train car, and we're not exactly on the run for our lives. Unless there's something you're not telling me?”

  “Nope.” He shrugged, fully awake now. “I guess old habits die hard.”

  “You’re in the habit of sleeping in shifts?”

  “Yes.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “Nope.” He paused, just for a second, the tiniest of breaths, then punctuated it with the most awkward of half shrugs. “Did you get any sleep?”

  “I hate sleeping on trains,” I answered, fully aware that he was trying to change the subject. I let it slide. Sue me, I was tired. “I never manage to zonk out.”

  “You're not exhausted after all this?”

  “Heck, yes,” I replied, “but I'd rather sleep when I have a nice bed and a fluffed-up pillow.”

  “Makes sense. These trains are rather slow, aren't they?”

  “Compared to instantaneous teleportation through the universe, I would say so.”

  “Too bad my navigation is shit,” Zander replied, shaking his head in disappointment. “You all right?”

  “Somewhat.” I shrugged. “I did like those shoes … the ones I wore to my date? You know, my date with Matt? The one you threw an assassin into?”

  “They'll put them in lost and found or something.”

  “When they find them in the restroom with a missing wall?”

  “Um, maybe not, but if they trace it back to you, you can always claim alien abduction.”

  “Lovely.” I snorted, but I was kind of frustrated. “Speaking of aliens, they looked familiar.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, they were the image that pretty much everyone on this planet associates with the word alien, you know. It’s as if—have they been here before?”

  “I wouldn't know.” He shrugged, but leaned in closer, though there was no one nearby to eavesdrop. “But there's no reason for them not to visit. Maybe the crew that crashed three-thousand years ago was seen by humans and—oh, shit. They're Killians.”

  “So?”

  “So, they're an empathic race.” He shuddered. “So much is said with just the mind, and they've been sending out a distress call for generations. Their faces are soaking into your dreams, Sally.”

  “That would make sense,” I agreed, though honestly, it didn't. “But if that were so, wouldn't we have some idea where the crash site was?”

  “Did anyone chronicle any crashes?”

  “I don’t know. But if we want to get to the bottom of this, we need to talk to them.”

  Zander's grin broadened exponentially. “You sound like you're in.”

  “In what?”

  “In on the mission.” Zander could barely hide his excitement. “Finding these aliens, getting them back to their families before the rest of the fleet arrives.”

  “Finding these … hold on …” I froze. “What fleet?”

  “You don’t think a ship that size could stand around making threats to a planet this big, do you?” Zander asked, shaking his head. “They sent their prime minister with the ultimatum and negotiating chips. The rest of the fleet will get here in a few months, and they're not going to be happy if they don't find the crew. Usually, Killians are a gentle race, so something has got them seriously pissed. I suspect there was someone rather important on board.”

  “How in the hell are you so calm about this?” I practically shouted. “They're on their way to destroy the planet, and you're talking like they're bringing us pizza.”

  “Because we'll have the crew back before they show up,” he said, still with the same calm demeanor. “And the Killians are—or were, last I dealt with them—a very agreeable race.”

  “We'll?”

  “You'll help me, right?”

  “Dude, I'm not a planet saving person,” I replied. “And how can you be so sure they're even alive? They could have died in the crash. They could have died since.”

  “A few reasons,” he explained. “Firstly, the Killians have an incredible life support system. It runs off the life force of the crew. They're an empathic species, but their connection with their ship runs deeper than just handheld controls, symbiotic in a way. In the case of a crash, their lives keep the ship alive, and, in return, the ship keeps them alive. Neither can die while the other survives. It's pretty freaking cool.”

  “But if they both were destroyed?”

  “That's point two, I'm getting to that.” Zander poked his tongue out like a child. “When the ship crashes, it uses a special form of force field to move through the earth, like cutting through butter. Great for not destroying ships, terrible for getting out afterwards. Usually, they had someone come and pull them out quickly, but they might have gotten too deep to save themselves. My theory is that they're in a near hibernation state in a ship-sized crevasse, somewhere on this continent.”

  “This is insane.” I would have laughed, if I still could.

  “Logical.” He shrugged. “Screw insanity. At this point, everything in the universe is messed up, so we should agree that there simply is no baseline sane. Insanity is the new logical—nothing's impossible. Everything's just got screwed up probability ratios.”

  “You seem pretty all right with all that.”

  “I live off improbability.”

  “But it makes no sense. You can't transfer energy through empathy.”

  “Says who?”

  “Science,” I scoffed. “Think about it, there will always be a loss when energy is transferred back and forth, there's no avoiding it.”

  “Says the planet who hasn't even got a warp drive.”

  “Oh, come on, we're getting there.”

  Zander smiled. “That’s what I love about you, Sally. You see something you've never imagined, and the first thing out of your mouth isn't a scream but a stream of questions about the conservation of energy.”

  “Nobody asks you about that?”

  “No one. They're more concerned with the why than the how. As in 'why are you standing in that sandbox? Why are you holding that flowerpot?' The real questions, though—”

 
; “Do you know?”

  “Come again?”

  “Do you know how your jumping thing works?”

  “The last time someone asked me that, they were holding my liver in their hands and spouting some nonsense about super soldiers.”

  “Of course they were.”

  “Told them I didn't want the liver back.”

  “I bet you did.”

  “Got away using a belt, a thumbtack, and an empty key ring.”

  “You're not making any sense.”

  “Sorry.” He shook his head slowly. “Truthfully? No clue how I do what I do. I just can. And no, I’ve no idea what happens to the momentum.”

  “It's really messing with my brain. I’m trying to wrap my head around it. It's as if you momentarily become massless … but you can't, can you? That would mean the velocity would somehow have to become—”

  “Yeah, I know what science says, but here I am, living proof that no one has any idea what they're talking about.”

  “We've got a pretty good idea,” I insisted, annoyed. “Come on. We're just starting out. You said it yourself; we don't even have a warp drive yet. Or any kind of space drive thingy. Yet we've put men on the moon and robot cars on other planets. We have people living in space 24-7 for months on end, and all this only a hundred years after we put men in the air. So, we're getting there.”

  “I never said you weren't.” Zander smiled awkwardly. “I'm impressed. Earth is doing quite well, and … look, do you want to see for yourself?”

  “See what?”

  “What happens to the momentum when I jump,” he said, slipping out of his chair. “This is your fault. It’s bothering me now, and I never used to care.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just watch, I guess.” He swung his shoulders and kicked his legs as if preparing for an Olympic event.

  “What am I supposed to see?”

  “Um …” Zander looked around, making sure we really were alone in the car. “So, the current theory is that my momentum reverts to zero when I reappear, correct?”

  “Yup.”

  “I’ll jump to a spot a little above the ground over there. If that's correct, I won’t be going at the same speed as the train, so I’ll crash into the wall.”

  “But the planet has—”

  He didn't wait for me to finish. He pelted down the empty row, determination carved into his face, leapt into the air, and blipped out of existence.