The Individuality Gene

by G Sauvé

  Buildings and dwellings stretch as far as the eye can see. Pulled outward by the inverted gravity, they follow the curve of the earth, giving the impression the city is folding in on itself. A few parks are scattered throughout the alien metropolis, yet they are few and far between. But I forget all about that when I look up.

  Buildings hang from the ceiling. At least that’s what it looks like. In reality, there’s no up and down, only inward and outward. I’ve never been inside a beach ball, but this is what I imagine it would feel like. Then again, I seriously doubt beach balls have alien cities built inside them.

  I enjoy the view for a while before the unusual perspective activates my acrophobia. Ignoring it, I focus on the dozens of tall buildings that riddle the city. Stretching toward one another like giant fingers protruding from the earth, the skyscrapers are linked together by an intricate web of bridges and passageways. Beyond them, hovering at the very centre of the Earth, is a sun. Though quite small, it glows with enough intensity to light up the entire city. A mere glance is all it takes to blind me.

  I look away and wait for my vision to return. Only then do I notice the structure we left behind helps support the elevated bridge network.

  Does that mean all these buildings are elevators? I wonder. If so, where do they lead?

  We should get going, says A’lara.

  I nod.

  I can’t see you, reminds my Kra’lor friend. You must speak if you want me to understand.

  “Sorry,” I mutter. I’m not sure how she knew I was nodding, but it doesn’t matter. “Where are we going?”

  Up.

  I look up, but all I see is the sun.

  “I don’t understand. Is our destination on the other side of the sun?”

  No. Our destination is the sun.

  “What? How is that—”

  It’s fake. It was created by the Ros’tal Corporation.

  I stare at the glowing sphere, only to be blinded once again.

  The light it generates is artificial, explains my friend. At the centre of it stands the computer that controls the sentinels. Only by entering the sun can we free the humans.

  I thought shutting down the sentinels would be easy. Clearly, I was wrong.

  “Is it the only way?” I ask.

  Yes. Our leader is distrustful of all but herself. It’s why she has chosen to isolate herself from the rest of the population. It’s also why she insists on maintaining full control of the sentinels. Only by entering her residence can we complete our mission.

  “She lives at the centre of the sun?”

  Yes.

  “How are we supposed to get there?” I look up once more, but I see no visible entry point.

  We will teleport.

  “You can do that?”

  Yes.

  “Then why did we take the elevator?”

  Teleportation requires vast amounts of energy. It was outlawed centuries ago.

  “I don’t understand. How can we teleport if it’s illegal?”

  Our leader was the one who created the ban. Only she is allowed to teleport, and she does so very sparingly.

  “So we can just teleport to the centre of the sun?”

  Yes. We must simply reach the teleportation dais and activate it. Once inside, we will have full access to the computer.

  “What if your leader is home?”

  She won’t be.

  “How do you know?”

  I just do, she snaps. Now stop wasting time, and follow me.

  She leads me along the skyscraper’s base. We progress in silence for a while before I notice something I failed to take into account until now.

  The streets are deserted.

  “Where is everyone?” I ask.

  Look closer, urges A’lara. Do you notice anything?

  I focus on my surroundings, but all I see are buildings. The streets are empty, devoid of both vehicles and pedestrians. Or so I think until I notice the shimmers.

  They’re everywhere.

  They glide along, weaving and swerving. There are so many the air appears to be bending, like gusts of air on a hot summer day. I expect the cloaked aliens to slam into me, but they swerve, avoiding me with ease. They must have a way of detecting cloaked aliens because we reach our destination without a single collision.

  The corner of the building is missing. In its place stands a triangular platform similar to the one A’lara and I used to reach the center of the Earth.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  An elevator.

  I stare at the platform. It doesn’t move, yet every last shimmering form that steps on it vanishes after a few seconds. Are they being teleported or is this some other mode of transportation? Either way, I’m pretty sure I won’t enjoy what’s about to happen.

  “Is it safe?” I ask.

  Absolutely, says the shimmer beside me. Stepping forward, A’lara makes her way to the centre of the platform. Nothing happens for a few seconds, then she vanishes.

  “A’lara?” I call out, but there’s no response.

  She’s gone.

  I look around, but all I see are shimmering aliens. One wrong move, one wrong word, and I will be discovered.

  I hesitate for a moment before stepping onto the platform. At first, nothing happens, but then a powerful force catapults me into the air. I blast upward at the velocity of a speeding bullet. The air bites at my skin, blinding me. I watch the city grow smaller through tear-filled eyes. Within seconds, I have reached the apex of my flight. Soon, gravity will grab hold of me and drag me to my death. I close my eyes and wait for the end, but it never comes.

  My eyelids flutter open, and I look around. I can feel the ground beneath my feet, yet there’s nothing there. Far beneath me lies the platform where I began my terrifying journey. The sight of it causes my head to spin. Struggling to remain upright, I focus on my immediate surroundings. A few metres before me stands the summit of the skyscraper. Reaching it should be easy, but doing so involves crossing the gap that stands between the roof and the invisible surface atop which I stand. Though logic dictates the path is safe, there’s no telling whether solid ground stands before me. Advancing could bring me one step closer to safety or send me plummeting to my death. And the longer I wait, the worse that first step will be.

  I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and step forward.

  My foot lands on solid ground.

  Another step.

  Still safe.

  The third step brings me within jumping distance of the roof. I barely take the time to aim before leaping.

  I made it. I’m safe.

  I hurry away from the edge, take a seat, close my eyes, hug my legs, and wait for the terror to pass. It takes a while, but I eventually recover. Only then does my companion make her presence known.

  Wasn’t that fun? asks A’lara.

  I can’t tell where she is, but I glare at the nearest shimmer.

  “No,” I snap. “That wasn’t fun.”

  What’s wrong? You sound upset.

  I have to take a deep breath to keep from exploding. The last thing I want is to make a scene.

  “Of course, I’m upset.” I stand and glare at A’lara’s shimmering body. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

  I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

  The urge to yell is strong, but I resist it.

  “I’m afraid of heights,” I say.

  There’s a brief silence.

  Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.

  I clench my fist, but the anger I once felt is already gone.

  “It’s fine,” I say. “Next time, please warn me in advance.”

  Of course.

  I look around. The roof is vast and filled with shimmering Kra’lors. Leading away from each of the four edges is a bridge. Big enough for a dozen rokks to travel abreast, each walkway leads to a different skyscraper. A sturdy guardrail lines the edges of both the building and the bridges, ensuring all who travel along the elevated network remain safe.
/>   We should go, says A’lara, before someone hears you and grows suspicious.

  She’s right. Kra’lors communicate by thought, which means that every word I utter could be the last I ever speak. From now on, it would be wise to remain quiet.

  A’lara leads me toward the nearest bridge. I make sure to stay away from the edges, yet I inevitably catch glances of the city that lies all around us. The buildings beneath us remain mostly out of sight, but I often catch myself staring up at the section of the metropolis that hovers high above us. Each time I do, my head starts to spin, and I lose my balance. The only way to avoid this is to stare directly ahead. While effective, it makes it impossible for me to keep track of our progress. Luckily, A’lara seems confident in her ability to get us to our destination.

  We keep going for a while before my friend slows to a stop. Her vibrating scales grow still, and she emerges from the shimmer that envelops her.

  “Why did we stop?” I whisper.

  I need to recharge, she says and makes her way to what looks like a high-tech vending machine. Taking place at the rear of the line that stands before it, A’lara gestures for me to stay back. Like her, the other Kra’lors are fully visible. I’m not sure why, but with so many aliens nearby, I have no way of asking what’s going on. I stand back and watch as A’lara moves toward the front of the line.

  One by one, the Kra’lors approach the machine. They all have slumped shoulders and hung heads. The mere act of placing their hands beneath the dispenser seems taxing, but they perk up as soon as a Ros’tal crystal drops into their cupped hands. Moving away from the electronic vendor, they press the ‘tal to their chests. I watch, fascinated, as the glowing energy leaves the crystal and enters the aliens’ bodies. Soon, the formerly brilliant ‘tals have been reduced to mere crystals. No longer valuable, the spent gems are discarded and, now reenergized, the aliens vanish in shimmering clouds of vibrating scales.

  The strange ritual repeats in an endless loop as Kra’lor after Kra’lor consumes the yellow energy. Soon, it’s A’lara’s turn. Like the others, she sucks the ‘tal dry and, her strength now renewed, vanishes once more.

  Come on, she says. We must keep moving. Her voice sounds more powerful, less tired than it did before.

  “What was that?” I ask once we’re out of earshot of the line of exhausted aliens.

  Ros’tal crystals do more than power our machines, explains A’lara. They keep us alive. Humans consume food for the energy it gives them. We do the same with ‘tals. Without them, our bodies decay and die.

  That explains why the Kra’lors were willing to enslave the humans. I don’t condone their behaviour, but I now realize the Ros’tal Corporation may not be as evil as I once believed it to be. They have gone about it the wrong way, but their desire for ‘tals stemmed from a desire to preserve the species.

  “I had no idea,” I say.

  Few humans do. If they did, they would use this knowledge against us.

  “Isn’t there another way? Another source of energy you can consume?”

  A’lara hesitates.

  There is, but mining Ros’tal crystals is the best option for everyone involved.

  “Best option? Humans are dying every day. They spend their entire lives mining ‘tals they never get to use. How is that better?”

  A’lara says nothing, and we continue in silence. The stillness allows me to process things, and I come to the conclusion the Kra’lors aren’t the evil overlords I once believed them to be. But that doesn’t change the fact that the humans are in trouble, and the only way to save them is to obliterate the sentinel threat.

  We keep going until we reach an intersection between two bridges. At the center of the open area stands a massive statue. It depicts a giant Kra’lor standing atop a stone dais. Kneeling before it is a human. Head bowed low and arms outstretched over his head, the man offers a massive ‘tal to his alien master. The symbolism is undeniable and causes me to rethink my previous theory. Perhaps the aliens aren’t so innocent after all.

  I apologize, says A’lara. I forgot this statue was here.

  “It’s fine,” I say, but it’s not. Nothing about this situation is fine. The humans deserve to be free, and I will do whatever it takes to ensure that happens, even if it means I have to die.

  Let’s continue our journey, says my friend. She leads me across the vast platform, weaving through the shimmering Kra’lors with ease. I struggle to keep up, but whenever I lag behind, she pauses and allows me to catch up. We have nearly reached the far side of the terrace when I spot something hovering near the base of the statue.

  It’s a drone. Identical to the ones I encountered in the past, the floating sphere soars around the statue in slow, concentric circles.

  “That’s odd,” I mutter. “What is it doing here?”

  What? asks A’lara.

  “There’s a drone by the statue. Do you see it?”

  Yes. It’s a propaganda drone.

  “A what?”

  A propaganda drone. They wander the city, spreading th—

  That’s as far as she gets before the drone comes to a halt at the front of the statue and opens up. Beams of light emerge from the gaping hole and weave into the shape of a Kra’lor. As large as the statue that stands behind it, the hologram towers above the shimmering aliens. Its body is fully formed, but its face shimmers, keeping it hidden. I find this odd until a booming voice erupts from the floating drone.

  “YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED!” The voice is powerful but distorted. “THE HUMANS SLAVE AWAY TO PROVIDE US WITH THE ‘TALS WE NEED TO SURVIVE! BUT WHAT GOOD IS LIFE WHEN IT IS GAINED SO CRUELLY? WHAT WE ARE DOING TO THE HUMANS IS UNCONSCIONABLE!”

  The speech grows more intense with each new word. Slowly, the Kra’lors begin to appear. They gather around the hologram by the dozens. Some cheer and raise their fists in support. Others jeer. Hearing their voices inside my head is overwhelming, but I quickly learn to block them out.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, turning of A’lara. Like most of her fellow Kra’lors, she has allowed her scales to grow still.

  It’s the HLG.

  “The what?”

  The Human Liberation Group. They call themselves that because they believe the humans deserve to live lives free from slavery.

  “That’s great,” I say. “Are you part of the HLG?”

  Of course not! she snaps.

  “I’m sorry. Did I say something to offend you?”

  I apologize, but the HLG aren’t our allies. They may share our values, but their approach is detrimental to the cause.

  “I don’t understand.”

  A’lara sighs. At least I think she does. Her shoulders slump, and a soft whistling sound fills my mind.

  They claim to want freedom for the humans, but all they do is lash out at the Kra’lors, blaming them for their pitiful lives.

  “At least they’re trying. Isn’t that a good thing?”

  My friend shakes her head.

  They are making things worse. By blaming the Kra’lors for the humans’ enslavement, they are adding fuel to the fire. Most of them now despise the humans, blaming them for the HLG’s actions.

  “It’s not their fault,” I protest.

  I know, says A’lara, but the Kra’lors don’t see it that way. Now more than ever, they are convinced the humans deserve their fate.

  Hearing this makes my blood boil. My hands curl into fists, and my jaw tightens until it feels as though my teeth are about to shatter.

  “This isn’t right,” I say. “We have to stop them.”

  I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.

  “Yes, there is,” I say. Fists clenched, I march toward the statue with the firm intention of destroying the drone before it can finish its hateful message.

  Where are you going? asks A’lara, but I ignore her and press on. I push through the crowd, ignoring the mental groans and grunts that fill my mind.

  We don’t have time for this, insists A’lara as she hurries
after me. We have a mission to complete.

  I ignore her and march on. It takes a while, but I finally reach the front of the crowd. I look around in search of a weapon but find nothing. All I can do is stand there and watch as the hologram chastises the crowd.

  “…ARE YOU? HAVE YOU NO RESPECT? HAVE YOU NO DECENCY? THE HUMANS ARE NOT YOUR ENEMIES! THEY ARE YOUR ALLIES AND DESERVE TO BE TREATED AS SUCH…”

  I focus on the crowd. Most of the Kra’lors are either annoyed or angered by the hologram’s constant barrage of insults and criticisms, but a few are nodding in agreement. Perhaps A’lara was mistaken. Perhaps the HLG can help us after all. But then the conversation grows darker. The insults are no longer veiled. Threats begin to pop up throughout the speech, growing more venomous with each new one.

  We must go, says A’lara. Now.

  She’s right. The HLG is too far gone.

  We’re humanity’s only hope.

  A’lara leads me through the crowd. The speech continues, but I’m no longer listening. It’s not until we emerge from the mass of Kra’lors that the discourse grows so dark I can’t help but turn around and focus on the hologram.

  “YOU WERE WARNED OF WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF YOU CONTINUED TO IGNORE OUR PLEAS!” says the giant alien. “NOW, IT’S TIME TO PAY FOR YOUR HEARTLESSNESS!”

  That doesn’t sound good. I expect something horrible to happen, but the hologram merely flickers and vanishes. Moments later, the drone starts glowing. It grows brighter and brighter until, finally, I can’t bear to look at it.

  We must go, says A’lara.

  “Not yet. I want to see what happens next.”

  No, you don’t. Trust me.

  What’s that supposed to mean? I wonder. “Do you know what’s going—”

  That’s as far as I get before the glow gets sucked back into the drone. It hovers there for a second, immobile, then starts vibrating. The tremors grow more and more intense until, finally, it explodes in a fiery ball of heat, shrapnel, and death.

  Memory 67

  P anic spreads through the crowd like wildfire. Kra’lors scatter, desperate to escape the blast zone. Those farthest from the explosion sustain minor cuts and bruises. Those nearest don’t even get a chance to react. They collapse, their bodies filled with shrapnel. Those lucky enough to escape the initial wave are taken down by the blast of fire and heat that follows. Kra’lors fall by the dozens. But the aliens aren’t the only casualties. The statue that once stood tall and proud vanishes in a cloud of dust and smoke.