Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Chapter Three

Take Me Home


Sevenah woke to a pounding headache and nausea. Her body felt weak and drained. She had experienced migraines before, but this intense throbbing behind her eyes was worse. Darkness surrounded her again. She made a feeble attempt to move her arms, but failed; they were tied down along with her legs. From the hum of electronics, she assumed to be back in her original room.
Trying to bring to mind the latest events, she recalled her nightmare with the snakes. If that bizarre memory was all she had given Dr. Mikiska, then surely they had found no promising answers. What did snakes have to do with anything? Perhaps the boy from her dream was a clue to the past, but she could never clearly envision his face.
A moan crossed her lips, and she listened to the sound bounce back from the ceiling—a morose echo in her ears. The memory-recall procedure may not have killed her, but it certainly made her wonder if death wouldn’t have been preferable.
You do not want to throw up, she thought to herself, swallowing in an attempt to heed her own warning. With no one around to clean up the mess, the idea of lying in vomit for an indefinite period of time was unappealing.
She tried to relax her queasy stomach by breathing slowly in and out, concentrating on the steady whirr of machines. Nothing was visible in the darkness except for strings of red numbers flashing over and over in a faint glow.
Lying there, feeling helpless and discouraged, her thoughts turned to Nurse Morroway. She contemplated this stranger who had offered the only bit of hope she felt for a possible escape. Leisha had said they would get her out of here. But who were they? And why the concern for her predicament? Regardless, she prayed the nurse and her companions had a plausible rescue plan. The way things were unraveling, she couldn’t imagine getting out alive without someone’s assistance.
Her concern shifted to Ian as she dared to imagine returning home. How was he coping with her absence? Did he suspect foul play? Was he looking for her? Or had Dr. Braxton delivered a lie to explain away her disappearance? Did Ian and her family believe she was dead? The thought made her shudder, imagining the grief her parents must be suffering. Sevenah agonized over what to do.
Deep in worry, she nearly missed the sound of a door cracking open. Someone was coming. She panicked, unsure of whether to attempt a glance or feign unconsciousness. When the lights switched on, her eyes automatically closed. Two arguing voices paralyzed her.
“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry, already! It’s been days; I’d think you could get past this.”
“You had no right to go behind my back, Stefanie.”
“Why are you still upset about a simple scan? It wasn’t a major deal. I’ve apologized every day since! Can’t you see, I was simply trying to find the answers we’re looking for in a humane manner? Quite frankly, it was worth a try because I did learn something.”
Sevenah felt her stomach turn. Were they talking about the memory-recall procedure? Was it true that days had already passed since then? But how was it possible to feel so horribly sick after all that time? What more had they done to her?
“You are purposefully sneaking behind my back and defying me!” Dr. Braxton roared. Sevenah could hear him stomp across the room. Something slammed down on the corner desk—most likely his clipboard.
“I am not defying…”
“You took it upon yourself to scan her memories, and now I come to find out you’re bothering Dr. Davis, seeking his support against my proposed course of action!”
There was a heavy, conceding sigh much closer than expected. A presence brought with it the strong scent of vanilla. “I just wish you would hold off for a while. Just a short while.”
“I’m aware of your feelings, Stefanie.”
“And I maintain that this whole thing is unnecessary. You have no idea how it will affect her.”
Sevenah felt a hand rest gently on her forehead. She struggled to keep still, knowing this would be a bad time to be found wide awake.
“She’s a person, Dr. Braxton. A young woman. And as such, she has some God-given rights.”
“Well God can save her then.”
“Dr. Braxton!” Stefanie snapped.
Tensions amplified as the hand on Sevenah’s forehead tightened. It ran over her scalp a few times—four skinny fingers combing through her hair—before moving to rest on a shoulder. It reminded Sevenah of her mother’s anxious and protective touch.
“If this alien is really so important, why hasn’t one of her kind come to retrieve her?”
Dr. Mikiska answered from right above. “Maybe she’s part of a dying race, one of the few remaining left.”
“Good. Then let them die.”
A gasp sounded so near her ear, Sevenah nearly flinched.
“You can’t really mean that!”
“Oh, but I do. What? You would have them take over our world?”
“No, of course not, but I hardly think one teenage girl poses a serious threat.”
“That’s what they want you to think!” Sevenah could hear the scoundrel draw near, closer to his associate at her bedside. “They’re hoping you feel so confident and secure you won’t look any further and see the real danger.”
Dr. Mikiska groaned, clearly frustrated with the obstinate refusal of this man to see any other possibility. “What if those memories of hers are what we’re looking for? What if she’s already told us everything we need to know about her?”
“You don’t have concrete answers, Stefanie, you have theories. Guesses. It’s what you think you saw in some chaotic, nonsensical images.”
“No, no, it’s more than that,” she argued, her voice suddenly optimistic.
Dr. Braxton harshly disagreed. “No, it’s not! You saw a child’s ridiculous nightmare! Images of running through some forest with a boy, the two of them overtaken by odd-looking snakes? Then visions of her dead parents, miraculously resurrected! Childhood memories of a forest, and then all of a sudden she’s on horseback, riding through the open desert. You say she dreamt of walking through space. Walking through space? What is that? I’ll tell you what it is—it’s impossible! What you have is a bunch of meaningless images and nothing more. You’ve learned nothing useful about her, Stefanie; that scan explains absolutely nothing.”
“They’re memories, Dr. Braxton, and they do mean something. Just think about it for one minute. Put the pieces together. She was a young child, okay, living somewhere with lush, forested terrain. Somehow she ends up in the woods with that boy, both of them obviously frightened. They were running away, trying to escape some type of danger. She calls out for her mother, but no one comes. Maybe there was a tragedy and her parents……well, maybe they died. Perhaps the snakes were to blame. I don’t know, but it makes sense that a serious enough incident occurred to warrant her being taken from her home and relocated. Her memory of walking through space obviously means she traveled on a spaceship, I’m guessing on her way to Earth. We know she’s alien and she definitely came from another world, so it makes sense she was brought here from her planet.”
“Oh please,” Dr. Braxton groaned, but Dr. Mikiska ignored his irritated objection and continued.
“Her parents are different people when she sees them alive again because they’re human substitutes. We know this to be true from the results of the Williams’ tests. They’re both conclusively human beings. Somehow, though, they believe that Sevenah is their real daughter, and she believes they are her real parents. It must have been set up that way on purpose. Her people must have wanted her to fit in here. So now she lives on Earth with her new family in the desert. It all makes sense.” Dr. Mikiska held up her palms as if it were plain as day. “That’s why she doesn’t know who she is. That’s why she can’t remember anything before five years of age. Whatever happened on her home world happened when she was very young, and it must have been traumatic. Her people could have planted her here to keep her safe or to give her a second chance. I honestly believe she has no idea where she came from. She thinks she’s human, and I don’t see her as a threat to us or to Earth.”
Dr. Braxton laughed out loud and clapped his hands derisively, clearly amused. “It’s a very creative story, Stefanie, but that’s all it is—a crazy, highly-imaginative story. You’re playing connect the dots and who’s to say your picture’s right? She could’ve been exiled here for all you know. And if something did happen on her home world, there may be others like her hiding out as well. Who knows? She could be the start of a total world takeover! You can’t guarantee your interpretation of her memories is correct.”
“We could try it again. Please!” Dr. Mikiska was begging—an unmistakable edge of desperation in her voice. “We know this procedure is safe, and I’m sure we can unlock more suppressed memories. You’ll see, we’ll find the answers.” She was trying hard to convince her superior, but he had grown impatient.
“No. The subject is closed.”
“You can’t cut open her brain, Dr. Braxton!”
“I’m going to do exactly that, Stefanie, and I’ll be moving forward with the process today before you have the opportunity to attempt any more alien-saving schemes. Then we’ll see who holds the real answers!”
“Why?” The question came out in a shriek. “There’s no reason for us to put her life in danger! We have a viable explanation for why she’s here; give that to the bureaucrats in Washington. It’s a solid, plausible theory and it very well may be the truth! It would at least buy us time to learn more about her through humane methods.”
“I will learn more about her—today.” His tone was insistent.
Dr. Mikiska kept pleading, shocked by the horrible turn of events. “Come on! You don’t need to do this! Not yet, not now!”
“As of this minute, you’re off the project. Pack up and go home.”
There was nothing but silence as the shock of his orders sank in. Then Dr. Mikiska panicked.
“No! No, you can’t dismiss me!”
“Pack up and go or I’ll have you escorted off the premises. I will not be bothered by any further interference in this matter. You’ve lost your perspective and hence you’re of no use to me.”
Having nothing else to lose, the woman turned hysterical. “You don’t even care about this project! It’s all about getting around the ethical guidelines for that stupid experiment of yours! That’s what this is really about isn’t it? Isn’t it! You’ve found a way to test your invention on a technically non-human subject so you’re going to whether it’s really necessary or not! You are so arrogant and selfish and contemptible and...”
“That is enough! You will leave immediately!”
The sudden hush was frightening. It was hard for Sevenah to keep her eyes closed; she fretted for herself and for Dr. Mikiska. Then she heard a quick swipe and the door click open. It slammed shut, the sound of heated protest lingering in a resonance. With her lady advocate gone, Sevenah realized she was on her own, alone with the enemy.
It was hard to breathe knowing time was up. Something had to happen today or else….
She didn’t want to think of the possible consequences. It couldn’t be true that the foggy memory of her last sunset would prove to be the final performance she ever witnessed. It couldn’t be that the ones she loved were gone forever.
Her parents.
Ian.
Paka.
She would never see any of them again—never look into their beautiful faces, or hear their kind voices, or feel their warm touch against her skin. Her heart pounded wildly at these thoughts, but her body remained stiff and frozen, fearing to be found conscious—fearing that Dr. Braxton would put her to sleep a final time.
His footsteps tapped across the floor as he moved from one spot to the next. She wondered what he was up to yet lacked the courage to peek. He might see. The rustle of paperwork hit her ears, and she pictured him flipping through pages on his clipboard. Then his voice carried across the room.
“Christopher, I want you to arrange a team for surgery. Prep room eight-thirteen. Call Dr. Fancher and Dr. Davis—let them know we’re moving forward today. Yes, it’s a go. At ten-hundred hours. We’ll meet in the blue room first. I want my equipment there and ready on schedule.”
More footsteps echoed in the air. Finally, the door clicked and fell shut. Sevenah opened her eyes and exhaled in a quivering gust.
“Oh crud, oh crud, this can’t be happening!” she panicked. “What am I going to do?” It seemed she would have to free herself.
She began fighting her restraints, desperately tugging, hoping for some give in the cuffs. Perhaps by a miracle she could wriggle one hand free. With adrenaline-enhanced strength she pulled and twisted, wrenching against the straps until the chafing action cut into her skin. She didn’t care. The sting would be worth it if just one arm broke loose. She yanked and squirmed until her wrists were raw and burning.
“No, No, No!” she finally cried. Her effort was producing zero results. She would have to face facts—the bands were too strong to break, too tight to slip through.
Her mind raced, searching for another way, some other possibility of escape. But with all her limbs so tightly secured, it seemed bleak.
“Okay, okay,” she breathed. A deep inhale was meant to calm the heightening anxiety. “There’s got to be a way. Think, think, think…”
A lurch in her stomach reminded her of its empty and sick condition. She closed her eyes and allayed a wave of nausea. Lying perfectly still, her mind worked on a plan—a scheme to potentially get her bands removed. Then, at least she might stand a fighting chance. Perhaps by offering them the truth—an actual lie—they would listen. A creative enough story might satisfy Dr. Braxton and make him give up the brain surgery madness.
A click echoed across the room, and Sevenah froze. Someone was coming. She pretended to sleep again, fearing the return of Dr. Braxton. A man called out but with a deeper and more authoritative tone than the snobbish one she had come to despise. In a foreign language, he vocalized what sounded like direct orders.
“Rhoen, loamma lan naash. Co, loamma ee, meeah Sha Eena. Marguay, ahntaa.”
“Ruha, tanee,” replied a husky voice.
“Ruha,” repeated the lighter tone of a female close by. This one sounded vaguely familiar.
She heard a fourth—another man. “Ruha, cu ahntaa.”
Sevenah felt someone grab her upper arm. Her eyes opened automatically.
“Leisha!” she exclaimed. It was Nurse Morroway. All at once there was hope. She attempted to sit up in her excitement without success.
“Are you alright?” Leisha asked.
“Yes….I mean, no! They’re planning something absolutely awful for me today! You have to get me out of here!”
“We know. It’s going to be okay. We weren’t prepared to move you yet, but there appears to be no other option. You’ll be going home today, but you must do everything we tell you, understand? If you want to get out of here alive, you must follow orders.”
“Okay, I will, I will, I promise!” The words were hurried and desperate.
Sevenah yanked on the bands that held tight to her wrists, motioning for Leisha to release her. Two accompanying men stepped in to help. They had the restraints removed in seconds. Sevenah felt an immediate desire to run with her freedom—a self-preserving impulse to flee—but curtailed the urge.
She surveyed the strangers around her, dressed alike in white lab coats. The men were large-statured and able-bodied. One wore tinted glasses; he behaved like the person in charge, seeming more alert and edgier than the others. Closest to Leisha stood a baldheaded man with a thick, five-o’clock shadow darkening his face. His eyes were fixed unwaveringly on Sevenah, making her nervous. The third man guarded the door. He resembled a military soldier—stiffly postured and clean-cut, staring ahead while awaiting his next order.
“What now?” Sevenah asked.
“Lie down and don’t move,” Leisha told her. “Don’t open your eyes. Don’t do anything unless we tell you, no matter how tempting, understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
Sevenah knew that these people were her only realistic chance at escape. She had come up with nothing on her own. Having no idea who they were or why they wished to help her, she determined to follow orders regardless. It crossed her mind they might be rivals of her present captors, and once outside they might not allow her to go home either. She would have to deal with that possibility afterwards. Dr. Braxton seemed the worse threat at the moment, making her best option to get out now and face the unknown later.
Leisha helped Sevenah lie down. They tossed a white sheet over her body, covering her up to the neck, but not before swabbing a cold, clear liquid over the crease of her arm. It was the same stuff Leisha had applied to her skin before. The migraine and queasiness disappeared almost instantaneously. Sevenah whispered her gratitude.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t forget,” Leisha reminded her, “you must do as we say. You cannot move or open your eyes until we give you the word—no matter what.”
Sevenah assured her rescuers she understood.
The tomboyish female then turned to her associates, addressing them in the same strange tongue they had used upon entering.
“Neerai cu. Iee?”
“Iee,” they all replied.
Leisha turned to the man in sunglasses. “Nahpai lan.”
He nodded to the bald man with gritty whiskers who then swiped a badge through the scanner. The soldier yanked on the metal door and held it wide open.
Sevenah could hear Leisha breathing above her while guiding the hospital bed through the doorway. An echo of tapping footsteps seemed extra loud as they hurried down the hall. The walk felt endless—traveling one long passageway, a right turn, down another hallway, a left turn, and so on. Finally, they stopped. The sound of automatic doors hit her ears.
Sevenah sensed her bed being guided into an enclosed space. An elevator. One man stepped inside with the ladies while the other two stayed back and prevented the door from closing. There was a short, foreign conversation, but even without an interpreter it was evident they were splitting up.
It took a moment for the elevator to budge after the company parted ways. No one spoke while the heavy sliding-cables whirred, dropping them a number of floors. Sevenah wasn’t sure if a camera showed their every move to a viewer by monitor. Whatever the case, she refused to stir until Leisha told her otherwise.
When the elevator came to a stop, she was rolled down another long hallway. The swipe of an I.D. badge preceded a brief click followed by the sound of an opening door. Sevenah sensed being passed through the frame. She felt the foot of the bed hit something yielding—swinging doors. The air buzzed with the familiar sound of machines again, suggesting another medical room. A shiver of dread traveled down her spine, but she cautioned herself to keep still. She trusted Leisha. These people had a plan, she was sure of it. When the strict, insensitive voice of Dr. Braxton carried across the room, however, it delivered a cold sting of betrayal. Just then a reassuring hand squeezed on her arm.
“You’re late,” Dr. Braxton complained, “and she isn’t even prepped. Her head was supposed to be shaved.”
“I’m sorry, doctor,” Leisha said. “There was some uncertainty as to whether…”
Dr. Braxton interrupted in a grumble. “Stefanie.” He assumed it was his associate’s interference that had caused this inconvenience.
“Yes, sir,” Leisha agreed. “Dr. Mikiska’s orders were…” Again she was cut off.
“Dr. Mikiska is no longer involved in this project. She has been dismissed, and you will take no further instructions from her. Understood?”
“Yes, doctor.”
“Get her prepped.”
“Yes, doctor.”
During this conversation, Leisha’s companion slipped on a pair of latex gloves and made his way to the furthest end of the room where a short, white-haired surgeon stood busily skimming over medical charts. Dr. Davis was preoccupied enough not to notice the man behind him with one hand hidden in a coat pocket. Leisha, meanwhile, fumbled through a box of utensils searching for a razor. Sevenah could hear the clunking stir of small items.
The nurse purposefully positioned herself beside the third surgeon, Dr. Fancher. He was also middle-aged with peppered hair combed perfectly into place. He towered over his associates by at least a foot. Leisha rummaged persistently through her supplies—stalling.
“Is this going to take all morning?” Dr. Braxton finally asked, his tone grouchy and impatient.
“No, doctor, I’m working on it.”
Leisha sighed, exposing a note of irritation. She moved to the top of the bed and gathered up the patient’s lengths of hair. Sevenah could feel a tug as the strands were bunched into a ponytail, nervous fingers brushing through the ends. It was obvious Leisha was stressing, waiting for something. Despite how petty, Sevenah genuinely feared losing her hair.
Dr. Braxton’s intolerance seemed to build by the second until at last he slammed his clipboard against a silver tray. His determined strides stamped against the floor, but before he growled a word, the swinging doors pushed inward to allow Leisha’s other associates inside. They wheeled a bulky piece of equipment in front of them.
“Ah, here it is!” Dr. Braxton exclaimed. He held his hands out wide, admiring his own invention. As soon as the men entered, the soldierly figure approached Dr. Fancher. Leisha was at that point closer to Dr. Braxton.
Their leader belted out an order. “Kahei!”
All at once the surgical staff was jabbed with tranquilizers. Three white-coats fell to the floor, unconscious.
“Get up! Get up!” Leisha ordered Sevenah.
Finally, permission to open her eyes! She was off the bed and standing on the floor in a heartbeat.
“You have no idea how hard that was. I really thought you were going to shave my head!”
Leisha kept her focus. “You need to change quickly.”
Sevenah grabbed the bundle of clothes handed her. It was her favorite faded Levis, pink t-shirt, and discolored Nikes. “I can’t believe you found these!”
She proceeded to dress beneath her hospital gown, thrilled to have something of her own again. As soon as she finished, Leisha helped her slip into a lab coat.
“Put this surgical mask and cap on too. You won’t be recognized so easily. Lucky for us, your presence here is top secret, so few people know about you.”
She did as ordered, twisting her hair up under the cap. “Okay, I’m ready.”
As the group turned to leave, the echo of footsteps traveled their way. All three men quickly took position on either side of the swinging doors while Sevenah stepped behind Leisha and stared ahead.
They heard a female voice exclaim out loud, “Hurry, they’re in here!”
Sevenah recognized it was Dr. Mikiska. But what was she doing?
As soon as the leading staff cleared the entrance, they were pounced upon and pricked with tranquilizers. Dr. Mikiska stood frozen in her tracks, her mouth gaping at the sight of her colleagues passed out on the floor. She looked up, questioning the scene, when a strong arm wrapped around her neck.
Sevenah hollered before the doctor was put to sleep. “No, wait! Wait!”
The man paused, but kept his hostage secure.
Dr. Mikiska addressed the only person she recognized. “Sevenah, what is all this? What’s happening? Who are these people?”
Sevenah removed her face mask. “I’m going home. Why are you here? I thought you were kicked off the project.”
“You heard.” The doctor frowned. “I came to help you. I found associates who agree with me, and I thought perhaps they could stop Dr. Braxton from going forward with this procedure today. I didn’t want to see you get hurt.”
Sevenah smiled, a truly grateful expression. “Thank you. I take back what I said before; you’re nothing like that awful man.”
Dr. Mikiska pleaded for the girl to stay. “Please don’t do this, don’t leave. You don’t have to go. There’s so much we haven’t learned about you, and you could learn from us in return. Don’t forget, the mystery of your childhood. Stay and we can figure it out together. Please, Sevenah, don’t act so hastily.”
It was hard to watch her lady advocate beg. “I can’t. Even with your support I would still be in harm’s way.”
The doctor sighed ruefully. “You’re right. We should’ve treated you better. We were wrong. I’m sorry.”
“We need to go,” Leisha whispered. “Time’s wasting.”
Dr. Mikiska was knocked out and left unconscious on the floor.
Sevenah and the others stepped around the bodies and rushed to the nearest elevator. One last look behind brought a warm swell of appreciation for what Stefanie Mikiska had attempted to do. She would never be forgotten.
“Leisha, how long will they be out?”
“Only for a while. We should be far gone by the time they come around."
       As all five fugitives disappeared behind sliding doors, Sevenah voiced her greatest desire. "Take me home.”  

Copyright 2012 Richelle E. Goodrich









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Chapter Four

Why Didn't You Tell Me?


Dodging the operating room and Dr. Braxton’s plan for alien torture gave Sevenah new energy and greater hope, but she realized they weren’t clear of the woods yet. Breaking out of a high-guard facility would be the real challenge.
She couldn’t understand a word of her associates’ conversation. The language was strange to her ears. Nevertheless, the gravity in their voices—their hushed, somber tones—reminded her of a conversation someone might have at a funeral.
One by one, buttons lit up on a broad panel as the elevator climbed multiple levels. The facility was turning out to be even bigger than she had imagined. Most likely, additional floors existed that few knew of excepting those with priority clearance. If it wasn’t her life on the line, she might have found the situation exciting. In truth, it was just plain frightening.
The elevator came to a stop on the main floor. Sevenah held her breath, anxious that a staff member might appear when the doors parted and recognize her.
There was no one.
“Curo, neerai cu,” the man in sunglasses said as if barking out an order.
Sevenah followed her rescuers into a long hallway where the walls remained windowless and the same dull, gray tiles stretched out of sight. Someone swiped a badge through a scanner when they approached a metal door, curiously not gray but beige in color. They entered an extra-large room. Unlike the rest of the facility, the room actually appeared inviting.
Ginger carpeting softened half the floor while the other half was white vinyl—no gray tiles. On the carpeted side, cushioned chairs encircled four card tables, all of them front row seats before a widescreen television. A selection of movies lined the shelves above. On the adjoining wall hung three coordinating watercolors depicting a seaside landscape, the very center reddened by a fiery sunset that appeared to melt into the ocean. It was a refreshing scene to behold.
Opposite the sitting area stood two extended tables topped with piles of folded laundry. A line of vending machines rested against the furthest wall, reminding Sevenah she hadn’t eaten in nearly forever. Her stomach reacted immediately to the sight of food, and she pressed on her tummy to quiet the groans. The very back length of the room harbored washers and dryers, double stacked in a long row. To the right of the machines, laundry baskets were organized in clusters, most overflowing with soiled lab coats, cloths, and sheets.
Leisha led Sevenah behind the cluster of square baskets and down a narrow passageway that opened into an attached warehouse. More hampers of dirty laundry waited there to be transported to an offsite facility. Parked side by side were two trucks with trailers big enough to haul a few oversized bins.
After thoroughly checking the warehouse for unwanted company, Leisha turned to Sevenah and proceeded to give explicit instructions.
“Listen. We need you to hide inside this laundry cart.” Leisha gripped the edge of a basket filled with heavy carpet pads. “I know it won’t be very comfortable, and I do apologize, but you must stay as deeply buried as you can. Remain absolutely still and silent. It’s the best chance we have of sneaking you out quietly.”
Leisha pointed to one of the two rigs. “We’ll load your cart into that truck there. Then Jerin and Marguay will drive you outside the gates. They almost never check the goods going out, just the drivers. In the off chance the load is searched, it’s usually only a quick peek at the contents. Keep quiet and everything should go smoothly. Jerin’s in charge.” She pointed to the man in sunglasses. “He’ll be driving with Marguay.” Leisha touched the arm of the baldheaded man, and Sevenah caught a brief, tender exchange between them.
“I’m going to leave you in their hands for now, but Rhoen and I will meet up with you on the outside. Don’t worry about us, we’ve been on staff here for a while and shouldn’t have any trouble getting around. We’ll catch up with you soon.”
Sevenah nodded her understanding. It all sounded straightforward and simple.
Leisha squeezed the girl’s arm encouragingly. “Don’t worry, you can do this.” Then she motioned to Rhoen who joined her in chiming “Sha Eena” in their native language. They bowed their heads before turning to leave.
Sevenah wondered at the unusual farewell.
Jerin and Marguay had already shed their disguises, exchanging lab coats for coveralls and baseball hats. Sevenah removed her facemask and cap as she watched the men switch I.D. badges, tucking the old ones safely away in their boots. When the men were ready, they helped her into a laundry basket partially filled with throw rugs. She maneuvered herself as far down as possible, instinctually curling into a ball and holding onto her knees.
“Are you ready?” the leader asked.
The man’s English surprised her. She had assumed he spoke only in his foreign tongue. “Um….I think so,” came her muffled reply.
Sevenah brought her forehead to her knees and closed her eyes. The weight of more carpeting was felt before the basket was lifted and shoved into the trailer’s deepest corner. The men hoisted five additional baskets after hers, making a full load.
Sitting in darkness she tried to calm her anxieties, slowly drawing in air and then exhaling deeply despite the dirty smell. Her heartbeat drummed so strongly she feared it might be audible. “Relax, relax, relax,” she chanted to herself. It helped a little.
The truck’s engine started up and roared defiantly as the trailer shifted into drive. They jerked hard once, and the wheels rolled forward.
It was difficult to hear over the noisy engine. The ride was bumpy but tolerable so long as it meant getting far away from this prison. Sevenah missed her family and longed for the simplest joys in life—to kiss her mother, to hug her father, to watch the next sunset with Ian and to sleep in her own soft bed under warm, downy covers. Her yearning for home felt powerful enough she could nearly discern the natural scents of the farm.
It didn’t take long for the truck to come to a stop at the first of three checkpoints, separating them from the final exit a mile and a half up the road. Jerin pulled up to a white line on the pavement and then shifted the truck into park, leaving the engine to idle.
A young man in military garb stepped out of a glass booth. Two armed guards stood at the gate about twenty yards behind him. The young officer approached the truck—a clipboard in hand, firearms attached to either hip.
“Mornin’,” he greeted both drivers. Sevenah could barely overhear their muffled conversation.
“I.D.’s and driver’s license please.”
“Yes, sir,” Jerin said. “Here you go, sir.”
“What ya haulin’ out? More laundry?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mind if I take a peek?” The guard was already headed toward the back of the trailer.
“Be my guest,” came the reply from the cab.
Sevenah recognized the sound of footsteps. She listened intently as the officer walked alongside the truck, rounding the back. Squeaky hinges groaned when the heavy trailer doors were pulled open. Then there was silence. After a few long seconds, the metal doors slammed shut and the same footsteps tapped the pavement returning to the cab. The young officer seemed satisfied that all was as it should be.
With a chuckle he commented, “Ain’t nuthin’ like airin’ out other people’s dirty laundry, eh?” He must’ve amused himself because he laughed aloud at his own pun.
The gate was ordered open, and the truck rolled on, clear of the first checkpoint.
So far, so good.
Sevenah felt the tension in her shoulders noticeably soften as she sucked in a greedy, stale inhale. Without realizing it, she had held her breath almost the entire time the truck had idled. This wasn’t anything close to her idea of fun. She had never been the adventurous type, not without some heavy encouragement from peers. While her friends often enjoyed the rush of adrenaline that accompanied a dare, Sevenah didn’t. She craved the familiar, the secure and dependable things in life like regular routines, everyday faces, and reasonably harmless activities. It made her feel safe—a feeling she earnestly longed for at the moment.
They traveled on toward the next checkpoint, passing a number of domed buildings and a long hangar surrounded by planes and helicopters. Military personnel passed by in camouflaged jeeps, headed in the opposite direction on the winding stretch of blacktop. Jerin didn’t slow down until the second gate came into full view.
Inside the trailer, Sevenah held tight as they jolted to another stop. The engine roared its own complaint before dropping into a low idle once again. Everything transpired much like the first time, with I.D. checks and a request to examine their cargo.
“Be my guest,” Jerin told the new officer.
This second security guard wasn’t as young as the previous one, or as friendly. He didn’t seem as easily satisfied either. On his way to the rear, he examined each tire and tapped beneath the trailer, squatting to take a peek at the undercarriage. Sevenah listened to the hinges protest when the rear doors were yanked open. The floor leaned and rocked, and she understood that the officer had pulled himself up into the trailer.
One by one he rummaged through bins, turning over piles of dirty laundry to check the contents. Sevenah could hear the slight echo on steel flooring as the officer stepped, halted, and then stepped forward again. She dug deeper beneath throw carpets, pressing herself flat against the bottom. Soon, he was standing above her.
For the first time in a long time she found herself mouthing a prayer. The words were mentally spoken but earnest and heartfelt. “Please, please, God, don’t let him find me. I can’t go back there, I can’t, I just can’t…”
All at once, the load on her back lightened as a handful of carpets were shoved aside. Not knowing what else to do, she squeezed her eyes shut and quit breathing, resorting to the child-like idea that if she couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see her. It was a ridiculous notion, but her prayer nonetheless. His hand nearly grazed her cheek as he dug deeper, peeling away at her hiding place. The next thing she knew, everything was tossed back in a heavy heap. She had miraculously gone unnoticed.
“Thank you, Lord,” she mouthed, hands clasped in sincere gratitude.
Finding nothing out of the ordinary, the officer finished his search. His footsteps clunked more rapidly on his way out, and the truck rocked as he hopped out the rear. Sevenah breathed a huge sigh of relief when the doors slammed shut. Then she maneuvered herself into a ball again, finding it a more comfortable position.
A few minutes later they started forward, safely past the second checkpoint.
Only the final gate remained, a mile ahead.
Away from the main facility, they passed fewer personnel patrolling the area. For half a mile nothing significant came into sight, only endless blacktop cutting a solid trail through red desert sands. A few small hills and flat-topped mesas appeared in the distance while desert flora crept up here and there, mostly cactus and sagebrush sparsely scattered across the terrain. A lizard or two scurried overland, headed for protective brush.
Sevenah concentrated on the hum of the engine, allowing its steady drone to have a hypnotizing influence. Her thoughts drifted. She wondered about these new people—about their true intentions. What plans did they have in store after successfully stealing her away? They seemed friendly enough, but it was hard to imagine them risking their lives merely as an act of kindness. She was sure they expected something in return. Something significant. She refused to trade one prison for another and would do whatever the situation required if it turned out their motives were devious.
Contemplating a successful getaway, her thoughts naturally wandered home. She missed her parents terribly, and Ian equally as much. Wouldn’t they all be surprised to see her walk through the front door! Despite the ordeal and her prolonged absence, Sevenah refused to accept that life could never return to normal. Her only goal was to get home. She was positive that reaching Royal City would make everything okay; her father would make it so. No one needed to know about her hidden differences. She didn’t even want to know.
The truck rolled on steadily until they neared a large, cement warehouse. A sharp bend in the road veered around the structure, located less than a quarter mile to the final gate. Sevenah was jolted from her thoughts when a blaring siren pealed through the air. It rang out so loud and shrill that even beneath the carpeting she had to cover her ears.
“They know,” Sevenah gasped. This was bad.
The truck jerked to an abrupt halt behind the cement warehouse. Jerin jumped out of the cab and ran to the rear, yanking open both squeaky doors. He hopped into the trailer with Marguay right on his heels.
“Sha Eena!” they cried.
The words sparked a vague sense of familiarity, yet Sevenah didn’t grasp the meaning. She did, however, recognize great urgency in their tone, and quickly dug her way up through the carpets. The men lifted her out as soon as she surfaced.
“The place has gone into lockdown, which means they may be looking for you. If so, they’ll be checking all these hampers thoroughly. It’s not safe for you to remain back here any longer.”
While the man in charge spoke, his friend undressed. He handed over his hat and coveralls to Jerin who then offered the clothing to Sevenah. She looked up uncertainly.
“Put them on,” he ordered.
“But they’re way too big,” she complained, holding the garb up to her.
“We’ll have to make it work. These soldiers will be searching for a female. We’re going to make sure they don’t find one.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she groaned. This had to be the worst idea, but she lacked a better one to offer. After stepping into the outfit, Jerin did his best to fold under both pant cuffs while she rolled up the sleeves. The excess material was bunched behind her to make the outfit appear somewhat fitted.
“This is crazy,” she breathed, rolling her eyes at the ceiling.
Jerin ignored her qualms. “Pull your hair up under the hat.”
She did so, trying her best to twist the long locks on top of her head. The baseball cap fit snug with all the stuffing. She ran her fingers along the brim, tucking in shorter hairs around her face.
Meanwhile, Marguay had redressed in a white lab coat, switching the identification badge on his front pocket. The men briefly swopped words in their own language while Sevenah worried about their plans.
When the exchange ended, Marguay nodded once in Sevenah’s direction, respectfully uttering, “Sha Eena.” Then he turned and hurried out.
“Yeah, bye,” she waved after him.
Jerin handed over his sunglasses, ordering her to put them on. She stood before him, ready for inspection.
“Do I look okay?”
He didn’t smile.
“Let’s go,” he ordered, heading outside. “You must remain silent. Don’t speak. Follow my lead. And don’t take off those glasses.”
“Sure thing,” Sevenah agreed.
Jerin hopped off the edge of the trailer, and then reached up to help her down. He slammed the metal doors shut and headed for the driver’s side of the cab. She almost followed him, but changed her direction to head for the passenger’s side. If they were to take much longer there would be a suspicious time gap between the second and third check points. Someone might demand an explanation.
Sevenah glanced at the glaring desert sun as she pulled herself into the cab. It felt like an eternity had passed since her last day outside. Even behind tinted glasses the sunshine appeared glorious. The warm tingle on her face inspired an intense appreciation for the open air. Drawing in a deep breath, she wondered exactly how long they had locked her away.
The decision not to buckle her seatbelt seemed reasonable in case a quick exit were necessary. Jerin revved the engine and steered them down the road. Within minutes the third and last checkpoint came into view. Sevenah pushed the sunglasses up her nose and flickered a glance at Jerin, thinking to herself how grim their chances were of pulling this off.
“You do have a backup plan, right?”
“Yes,” came a cool reply.
“Good.” It seemed likely they would need one.
The sirens had stopped blaring after the first couple minutes. It was only the incessant flashing of red lights that now communicated a high-alert status. That and the attentive conduct of the guards.
“Stop right there!” commanded a tall, redhead in uniform. He held up the palm of his hand as the truck rolled up to the final gate. “Kill your engine!”
Jerin did as ordered. Sevenah wiped a layer of sweat from her forehead, attempting to hide her face from view of the fast-approaching officer.
“Hand over your identification.”
Jerin reached into the front pocket of his coveralls and pulled out two badges. “What’s all the noise about?” he asked. “Some kind of fire drill?”
The soldier answered sternly. “This is no drill. And for now, no one leaves or enters the place.” He reached through the open window and snatched the badges from Jerin’s fingers.
“You think maybe that doctor there knows anything about what’s going on?”
The officer turned to face the direction in which Jerin pointed. A jeep had nosed up to a human barricade of soldiers, and the driver, wearing a white lab coat, was ordering the guards to allow him immediate passage. He seemed in a frantic hurry.
“Be right back,” said the redhead. “Stay here.” He tucked both I.D. badges into his front pocket. Sevenah watched him hustle over to the disturbance—a distraction that, for the moment, was working in their favor.
The exchange grew heated as the driver insisted he be let outside the gates. Sevenah watched with great interest, her stomach churning. She wondered if the commotion had anything to do with her disappearance. Whatever the problem, neither side was backing down. A minute into the conversation had the redheaded officer speaking into his radio while at the same time ordering a determined medic to back off.
“If a faculty member can’t get through, there’s no way we’re ever getting through,” Sevenah breathed in discouragement.
“Just wait,” Jerin told her.
 A second vehicle pulled up just then. Sevenah’s jaw dropped when she recognized the driver. “It’s Leisha!” she exclaimed.
“And Marguay,” Jerin pointed out.
With his back turned to them, Sevenah hadn’t noticed that the man in the jeep was their friend, Marguay. He had been quick to react after leaving the truck, confiscating the nearest vehicle to create a disturbance. He was doing his best to convince the guards that the sirens were, in fact, a false alarm—insisting they allow him through for what he deemed a genuine emergency. They weren’t buying his story, however, until Leisha presented the man in charge with a legal slip of paper. After reading it over, the officer handed it to another guard and proceeded to call out on his radio again.
“He’s checking up on them,” Sevenah guessed.
“If Rhoen’s done his job, they’ll be fine,” Jerin assured her.
And he was right. It appeared Rhoen did intercept the call, because the gates were immediately pulled open for Marguay and Leisha. They were allowed to leave. Then the redhead jogged back to the truck and handed over Jerin’s I.D. badges. He hadn’t bothered to glance at them.
“It looks like all’s clear. You’re free to go.”
“Mind me asking what the problem was?”
“False alarm, I guess. Some idiot set off the sirens for an off-premises emergency.” The officer waved them on.
“Good day,” Jerin called as they slipped safely through the final gate.
Sevenah shook her head in utter amazement. She couldn’t believe it; they were free!
“I thought for sure we were trapped—how in the world…?”
“We’re not home yet,” Jerin reminded her. He looked sideways and cracked a slim smile. “But it does look promising.”
She couldn’t help but smile back. It was such a relief to be outside the gates and driving away from Dr. Braxton. Far, far away.
They continued down blacktop until it ended at a random point, converting into dirt road that pushed straight ahead for miles. Sevenah removed the borrowed sunglasses and set them on the dash. She squinted until her pupils adjusted to the brightness, peering out at an endless sea of red sand.
Jerin sped up after the final checkpoint, knowing time was their enemy. The ride felt rough and consistently bumpy. In order to keep from being tossed around, Sevenah held tight to the armrest. With a free hand she clumsily removed the baggy coveralls, not caring to wear the disguise any longer than necessary. Eventually, she questioned Jerin about their plans.
“Are Leisha and Marguay very far ahead of us?”
“No. We’ll meet them at the rendezvous point just over that hill.” He pointed to a steep mesa behind a rolling hill in the distance.
“What about Rhoen?” she asked. “He’s still back there, isn’t he?”
“He’ll be following soon.”
She asked the next question with some hesitancy. “What happens when we all get to the rendezvous point?”
Jerin didn’t answer. She knew immediately why not. In the background, sirens blared out their warning cry again. Sevenah held on tight as Jerin pressed the gas pedal to the floor.
“No, no, no,” she exhaled, fearful their victory had been short lived.
“We’re not that far away. We’ll make it, just hold on.” But Jerin’s troubled face wasn’t reassuring.
They swerved off the main road and onto a wide dirt trail. The rendezvous point inched nearer as the truck was steered on the shortest, direct course. Sevenah gripped at her seat and held onto the dash as the terrain jarred them around. She monitored her rearview mirror, copying Jerin, nervous that a pursuer might appear in their dust. She prayed they had a great enough lead to keep them safe. It was a moment of wishful thinking.
The truck swerved recklessly to the left when a blinding spotlight glared through the windshield. Sevenah screamed, grasping at the interior, while Jerin steered wide to avoid an unexpected, low aircraft. He quickly corrected the vehicle, skidding back onto the dirt trail. A helicopter hovered overhead, its propellers a furious buzz, but Jerin kept his focus on the hill ahead.
“Pull the vehicle over now or we will shoot!” The warning sounded across the desert, amplified by intercom.
Sevenah’s big eyes spoke to Jerin before she breathed a word. “I can’t go back there.”
He had no intention of stopping. He kept the pedal to the floor and continued forward as fast as their rig would move. She watched him reach into his pocket and pull out a tiny red box that he attached to the dashboard. He then retrieved a small communications device and spoke into it with great urgency.
“Una! Una! Pahrta lo ahmannay keea pii naash. Sha Eena lo kii me. Una!”
“Krono shema. Nay!” came the reply.
“Ahntah lo pahmm!” Jerin spoke into the device.
“Ruha! Nay!”
“Jerin!” It was Leisha’s voice now coming over the device. “Jerin! How many are following you?”
“Just a helicopter so far…” He stopped talking when Sevenah screamed. They both ducked at the sound of gun fire. Warning shots.
“Are you okay?” Leisha shrieked.
“Yes,” Jerin said, “but we’re being fired at!”
“Just hurry!” she urged loudly.
Sevenah was terrified they would be caught or, worse, killed only yards from their destination. How just her luck. As if that weren’t bad enough, she groaned at the sight in her rearview mirror when Jerin commented, “We’ve got more company.”
A half-dozen military vehicles were distantly chasing them. It wouldn’t be long before they caught up. The jeeps were smaller and faster than the bulky truck Jerin had already pushed to its top speed.
“Get down and stay down,” he barked. She didn’t have any trouble following orders.
Scrunched below the dash on the passenger floorboard, her arms protectively sandwiched her head in case this pursuit ended in a crash—a strong possibility. Then the loudspeaker sounded up again.
“Pull over now! We will shoot if you continue to run!”
They were so close to the rendezvous point.
Seconds later, another round of shots were fired. Bullets ricocheted off the metal exterior of the truck. Sevenah screamed again with her head still buried in her arms. From the rearview mirror Jerin watched military jeeps continue to gain on them. He decided they were close enough.
He slammed on the brakes and the truck spun sideways, throwing the trailer across the dirt path and positioning Jerin’s door toward the oncoming vehicles. Sevenah was grateful for the arms protecting her head when she knocked hard against the lower dash.
“Get out and run!” Jerin hollered.
Sevenah obeyed without delay, jumping out of the cab and sprinting for the hill. It wasn’t an easy task trying to run through sandy soil with any speed. Jerin slid across the seat and took off right behind her. He kept looking over his shoulder, waiting for a safe distance to separate them from the truck. About sixty yards away he pointed a palm-sized device behind and pressed on it.
An explosion shook the air, ripping apart the truck in a violent ball of fiery scarlet. It was enough to swerve the jeeps off course and force the helicopter to veer up and backwards, buying them a little more time.
The thunderous detonation startled Sevenah, but it didn’t slow her sprint. She hadn’t noticed any weapons on her rescuers up to that point, so the destructive explosion came as a shock. The red box Jerin had set on the dash must’ve been one volatile bomb. A warm hand pushed on her back and she tried to run harder in response. Jerin stayed right with her, matching every pumping stride.
The hill was almost within reach. They were only yards away when Sevenah heard her name bellowed over an intercom.
“Sevenah Williams! Stop now or I will shoot you!”
She recognized that horrible voice. In her worst nightmare she was sure to shudder at the malice in Dr. Braxton’s tone. Her head automatically turned to see if it was him, but her legs continued to race forward.
Jerin urged her on. “Don’t stop; keep going!”
Gunfire followed them.
That was too much. Terrified by the nearness of the shots, she tripped over her feet and rolled flat into the red sand. As Jerin reached down to help her up, she turned her wide eyes on Dr. Braxton. Billows of black smoke and hot flames outlined him like a menacing, supernatural beast. He held up his gun and aimed. She knew the brute would kill her given the chance.
Another shot rang out. Jerin reacted before she heard the sound, falling on top of her and forcing her back into the hot sand. He was hit in the process.
“Jerin! Jerin!” she screamed. Blood ran down his arm. He winced when she touched the wound.
She could hardly believe it when he pulled her up with his good arm and pushed her to get to safety. “Run to the hill now! Go, GO!”
It was adrenaline that took over, giving her the ability to continue on. Her feet automatically obeyed his command, sprinting ahead despite how bleak their hope of escape appeared. There seemed no logic in believing the hill would offer any protection. Surrender looked like the only realistic hope for survival. Even if it was temporary survival.
“You can’t get away!” Dr. Braxton yelled after her.
Two more shots hit the air and she twisted her neck to find Jerin still running with her, his wounded arm held protectively against his chest. No one had been hit this time. When additional gunfire failed to pop off, Sevenah turned her head to find out why.
Dr. Braxton was on the ground, tackled by a man who was grabbing at a gun fallen loose. Sevenah watched her hero confiscate the weapon, shoving it in his back pocket before starting into a sprint in her direction. She recognized the man as Rhoen.
“Keep running!” Jerin ordered. They were just about at the foot of the hill. What now? Was she supposed to climb?
Then, as if a hundred firecrackers had been lit at once, the air exploded with the piercing discharge of heavy gunfire. Sevenah dropped to the sand and covered her head. She was sure they were dead. Every soldier had been told to shoot to kill.
This would be the end. Death by firing squad.
When Jerin’s shadow crept over her, she looked up in amazement. Something impossible was happening. Deafening shots were ringing out as if a large hunting party had fallen across an open field of deer, but no one was hitting the standing targets. All the gunfire, and yet they remained unscathed? That’s when she noticed it—the image that altered her life forever. Undeniable evidence of her new reality.
From behind the nearby mesa, an enormous black-and-silver ship rose to hover above the ground with a long, pointed nose and outspread wings. It was like nothing she had ever set eyes upon. An honest-to-goodness alien spaceship!
The vessel was emitting a force field, surrounding itself and Sevenah as well as her companions. She understood why Jerin and now Rhoen were standing above her, impervious to gunfire. The bullets couldn’t harm them now.
She laughed out loud, not sure if it was hysteria or pure ecstatic gratitude. Either way, it was painfully clear that everything she believed about herself up to this point was a lie. She really was alien, and so were her rescuers. They had saved her life.
Rhoen took an immediate interest in Jerin’s wound and the two men headed toward the belly of the ship floating just above them. A stairway descended from the bottom of the vessel, ending near their feet. Sevenah glanced at the top steps when she heard Leisha’s voice.
“Come on, we need to go! It’s alright!” Leisha motioned for the girl to follow them aboard.
“No.” Her soft reply wasn’t so much a refusal but a statement of incredulity. She didn’t trust her legs to stand just yet. All she could do was stare. Her eyes followed the men up the steps until they disappeared into the ship. Jerin probably needed immediate medical attention. Why had he jumped in front of a bullet anyway? Why risk his life?
Then an angry voice cut through all the mystery, threatening her again.
“You’ll never get away! We’ll follow you and hunt down every last one of your devious kind!”
Sevenah whipped her head around, focusing narrowly on Dr. Braxton’s portly figure. He was stuck behind the eerie force field, desperate to push through it. No more shots disturbed the air. The gunfire had ceased when it became obvious nothing could penetrate the alien barrier.
As Sevenah glared at the man she had come to loath, anger welled up in her chest. She understood she was safe now, but nothing would ever be the same. This was his fault. Her life had been normal. It had been wonderfully normal until he screwed it all up! Her fingers curled into tight, pale fists as she rose and began to march toward him.
Leisha called out urgently to the girl. “Sha Eena! Sevenah, no! Come back!” But she wasn’t ready to go just yet.
Dr. Braxton spoke first when she stopped mere inches from him, separated by a film of invisible wall.
“I should’ve killed you when I first found you. Believe me, as soon as we track you down I’ll not make that same mistake.
“You have no way of following me. And you’re lucky I don’t control that ship or I’d have their weapons fire on you and do every life form in this universe a favor. No one deserves to be treated as miserably as you treated me, human or otherwise. I will never forget what you’ve done. Never!”
She wanted to reach through and strangle him, as hurt as she felt. It was his fault she had lost her parents. It was his fault she had lost her best friend. It was his fault she wasn’t really going home. It was all his fault!
Smug arrogance spread across Dr. Braxton’s face. “I don’t fear the likes of you. You’re not human. You’re not even an earth-born rat, which makes you of less worth to me than those filthy, disgusting vermin.”
That was more than she could take. Her temper flared, and she forgot about everything else but the arrogant jerk standing before her. Fueled by deep-seated hurt and resentment, she threw her clenched fist at him. To her great astonishment she penetrated the eerie barrier. Her punch landed squarely on his jaw, effectively knocking him to the ground. She fell forward herself, drawn ahead by her own momentum.
Someone grabbed her from behind, pulling her to her feet before she completely slipped through to the other side.
“Rhoen,” she breathed gratefully. He had returned when she failed to follow them onto the ship. Shocked and yet relieved, she hugged the man. Apparently, the force field only kept things out, not in.
Glancing sideways, she caught the furious look on Dr. Braxton’s face as he recognized a missed opportunity to snatch her. Her hand automatically made another fist.
“Ouch, that hurts.” Her punch had landed fairly hard.
Rhoen turned her toward the waiting ship, and squeezed her shoulders in a gesture of encouragement. “It’s time to go home,” he said.
Sevenah understood she had no choice. It wasn’t the home she had hoped to return to, but it was the only place left to go. Earth was no longer a safe option.
She nodded her willingness to follow. Rhoen walked her to the open stairway, ignoring a barrage of threats from Dr. Braxton in the background.
They disappeared into the belly of the ship, the steps rising behind them. The force field dissolved, and then nothing remained but a gathering of human onlookers staring up at a clear desert sky.
Inside the ship, Sevenah sank into a shiny, black seat across from Rhoen. Straps whooshed across her lap and chest, holding her in place. It was startling, but she could see Rhoen and Leisha strapped in the same way. A long aisle ran down the center of the ship, dividing them from four seats set up identically on the opposite side. The interior was dark, a combination of black furniture and dim lighting. Jerin and Marguay were nowhere to be seen, but it was reasonable to assume Jerin’s bullet wound was being tended to.
“Rest your head back,” Leisha instructed. “You’ll feel some strong forces as we exit the atmosphere. It’ll be fine once we leave this planet.”
Sevenah let her head drop against the chair. Her eyes were drawn to a skinny window spanning her side of the ship. Clouds blocked the view at first, but soon they dispersed, revealing a glaring sun. Sevenah squinted at the sudden brightness. Then, as if someone tossed a blanket over her head, it turned as dark as night. Not pitch black, but a darkness infested with millions of sparkling dots. Stars. They were irregular stars unlike those she and Ian had gazed at nightly. These distinct celestial lights glowed with more clarity than she had ever observed. At the same time, her body lifted from the chair only to be instantly pulled back down.
“Artificial gravity,” Leisha explained. “It always takes a second to kick in.”
The seat belts retracted, disappearing into the cushions. That too was unexpected and startling. Free of restraints, Sevenah scooted up to peer more closely through the skinny window at her side. The entire planet was now visible. Earth’s bluish image looked beautiful. Never in her lifetime had she imagined being a firsthand witness to something this incredible. The globe seemed to float in a vast, black sea—a wispy, sapphire marble existing solo. How could it be she wasn’t from that world? Her eyes closed with a deepening sadness, understanding she was never to see the place again, or any of her loved ones.
“Would you like to meet our pilot?” Rhoen asked, gesturing toward the aisle as he stood.
She agreed with a nod, still dazed by the mind-boggling experience.
Rhoen led the way while Leisha took up the rear. At the end of the aisle a large control room appeared, separated from passenger seating by a dividing wall. Sevenah caught sight of two pilot’s chairs, the high backs toward her.
Once on the bridge, she noticed how everything was labeled in foreign script—from display monitors to posted instructions to gauges lit up in a variety of colors. Electronic switches and buttons covered every panel and counter. It was truly an awesome sight. The pointed nose of the ship was visible through a front windowpane that swept clear from one side of the bridge to the other. She awed at the immensity of the moon as they seemed to duck under its rocky surface.
“This is unbelievable,” she breathed.
Rhoen dismissed himself, leaving their guest with Leisha. Sevenah continued to stare into space, mesmerized by absolutely everything.
Leisha spoke into her ear, “Sha Eena.” That was the umpteenth time she had heard those words.
She had to ask, “Will you please tell me what Sha Eena is?”
The answer came from the pilot’s chair, a quiet and familiar utterance. “You are,” the voice told her. “You are Sha Eena.”
“No way,” Sevenah gasped, not because of the answer, but because of the voice. She knew that voice. The chair slowly swiveled until the pilot faced her. Ian, her best friend, rose from the seat—a miracle standing before her eyes.
“Ian!” she screamed, jumping into his arms. He had to grip the chair to keep from falling backwards. They hugged like reunited family. After a few seconds, Ian carefully pushed her back. She was puzzled by his behavior but too overjoyed to care.
“I can’t believe it’s you!” she exclaimed, elated to be reunited with her best friend. “I never thought I’d see you again!” She hugged him once more, overcome with joy.
Ian patiently allowed her to hug him.
When her arms relaxed, she stepped back and stared up at his face, disbelief swimming in her eyes. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, she did both.
Wanting to fill him in on what had happened to her since being separated, she delved into a brief account of the frightening adventure she had somehow managed to survive.
“I don’t even know how much time has passed since I was locked up in there!”
“I’m so sorry,” Ian said. “None of that should’ve happened. Forgive me, Eena.” His face wilted—pained and apologetic.
“It’s not your fault.” But his request for forgiveness made her think. Her face scrunched up, puzzled. “Is it?”
His shoulders slumped as his eyes dropped to the ground. The familiarity of his conduct made Sevenah feel better in a way, but his response didn’t.
“It is my fault. I should’ve been with you. I should never have left you alone, not even for one day.”
Then Leisha spoke up supportively. “He was the one who found you, though. I still don’t know how, but he found you. That’s the only reason we were able to pull this off.”
Sevenah was beginning to think now, her mind piecing things together, realizing there was only one reason Ian would be among them. She glanced questioningly at Leisha and then back at Ian.
“How long have you known?” she asked him.
He didn’t answer right away.
“You’ve been my best friend for over a year, Ian; we’ve done everything together. How long have you known about me?”
He looked into her troubled eyes and admitted, “I’ve always known.”
She was hurt. How could her best friend have kept something this big, this important, from her? “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me the truth about you—about me—about us?”
“I couldn’t.” His reply was sincere, pleading for her to understand.
“No, no,” she said, unwilling to believe that he couldn’t. Wouldn’t, maybe, but he could have told her. And as far as she was concerned this entire nightmare might have been avoided if he had said something.
Her voice trembled as she lashed out at him. “If you knew, you should’ve said something to me. I had every right to know who I was….who I am! You should’ve told me, Ian!”
“But I couldn’t.”
“Yes, you could have!”
“And if I had, if I had come to you with the truth and said, ‘Oh, by the way, Sevenah, guess what? You and I are aliens from another planet far off in the galaxy somewhere, and furthermore, your real name isn’t Sevenah. It’s Eena.’ If I had said those words to you, would you have believed me?”
He waited for her answer.
“I don’t know—probably not……but you could have convinced me, proven it to me. If I had known, I would never have gone to see Dr. Tracy; that I’m sure of! Then all of these horrible things would never have happened to me!”
Ian’s shoulders sagged more than usual, burdened by guilt. “I’m sorry, but I really couldn’t tell you. My orders were not to disclose anything, Eena.”
“My name’s not Eena! It’s Sevenah!”
She didn’t want to hear his excuses. The whole thing felt like a cruel conspiracy. Her best friend was turning out to be someone she really didn’t knowC, pretending to be someone he wasn’t, pretending she was someone she wasn’t.
Sevenah stormed out of the control room and down the aisle, throwing herself into a passenger seat. Ian and Leisha followed. Leisha sat beside her while Ian took a chair across the way. She refused to look at either of them, staring out into space instead, trying hard not to cry.
“He was under orders to keep silent,” Leisha tried to explain. “All of us were. The council and Derian…..they gave strict instructions to protect you at all costs but to say nothing directly to you. Ian had already been reprimanded for violating those orders and befriending you a year ago.”
Sevenah continued to look out the window, shaking her head back and forth in tiny gestures of denial.
Ian tried again. “I wanted so much to tell you, I truly did.”
She turned abruptly to face him. “You should have told me, Ian! I had a right—my parents had a right to know my real identity! And all along you knew. I thought you were my best friend.” Her eyes began to tear up, so she turned to the window again.
Ian fell back in his chair. He understood her anger. And for the moment, no explanation would be good enough.

Copyright 2012 Richelle E. Goodrich



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