Alien Me (14 page)

“It’s messed up to use people this way,” I cried. “How can this be okay with them?”

“Let’s ask.” Sean turned to the servants. “Which one of you was the last to be Discarded?”

One of them stepped forward. “This one was, my lord.”

“Was it because you Disrupted society’s standards or because you were unable to meet standards?”

“This one has fallen for failure to meet the standards of the highborn, my lord.”

“If this House is like the House of Picard, this footman was likely unable to memorize all the arcane facts that these people find so fascinating,” Sean explained to me. “Because the Original People don’t trust computers, they try to keep their entire history and culture in their heads.”

“Why don’t they trust computers?”

Sean shrugged. “Whitlock told me that by using computers humans are baiting and setting their own trap and then walking right into it.”

“They don’t use paper or clay tablets?”

“Ha, ha. From what I understand, they only use writing to a small extent. Apparently the Original People have a history of moving around from planet to planet, and to them history written down is history that could be left behind. Now the highborn are their class of scholars.”

“And so the Discards are the B students in this culture,” I said. I could see my sister being one of the highborn and me being Discarded. Dad always liked to say that when it came to school, Riley didn’t have to work at it and I did. I looked at the footman. “You will tell us why the Original People came to Earth.”

“This one isn’t authorized to give out that sort of information and can be of no assistance in this matter,” the footman said, his voice clipped and confident, as if he were reading from a script.

“Come closer,” I said. The footman came to stand within a few feet of where Sean and I were sitting. He seemed young, though I had no idea how old he might be in Earth years. I could feel his anxiety and how much effort it was taking him to keep his hands still at his side. The longer Sean and I were near him, the quicker his heart beat.

“Why can’t you answer that question?” I asked him.

I could feel the man’s heart and stomach begin turning somersaults in his body, the tingling of his knees as they began to wobble.

“My lady, the laws of Geminay forbid it. Those of us who are fallen are deemed unworthy of speaking about our history.”

“But you must know some of the history. Couldn’t you tell us that much?” I asked.

The footman’s eyebrows rose as if he were surprised. He bit his lip, blinked rapidly, and looked sharply to his left. I felt the man’s heart give a tiny jolt of surprise. After staring raptly at the floor, he scowled slightly, as if he were trying very hard to remember something.

“My lady, this one’s station allows his speech only to serve,” he said, his uncertainty making him choose his words slowly. The black diamond pupils in the footman’s orange eyes dilated. “Every room this one is in should seem empty, as if this one isn’t present.”

“Your speech will serve us now by telling us the history of the Original People,” Sean said, watching the footman carefully. “The Lady Darcy and I command it.”

I felt the footman’s agitation and confusion. Uncertainty tugged at what he thought the rules ought to be. They became unclear and all he knew was that he had been given a direct order by the Sworn Assets.

The footman frowned. “My lord and lady, it is said that the Original People left the planet Shizanna because it was under attack by an alien species we call the Tarkwins. That is a name not spoken in polite company. Our enemy endeavored to kill every person on Shizanna. Those of us who were lucky enough to escape dispersed to many other planets in the known universe. Our enemy pursued the colonies one by one, killing every last person and burning all evidence of our presence. Our colony moved to three different planets before coming here. It was the Great Mechanic Ratanga who figured out how we might live on Earth with its burning yellow sun. He learned how to use human donors to bring us the energy we need. The Great Mechanic Ratanga thought that our enemy wouldn’t follow us here because they wouldn’t believe we would stay in a system with such a relentlessly yellow star.

“Coming here was a calculated risk. The Original People were terrified when they saw a yellow sun, but the Great Mechanic Ratanga promised that it wouldn’t harm us. He sent one ship ahead to prepare our below-surface world. We had one chance for this to work, one chance. We came to this planet on its night side and fell through to our new home. The first Earth years were difficult because the Mechanics had to find a species that could carry energy below the surface in a way that our enemy couldn’t discern. Humans worked the best because they can be taught. The first colony was built in the area we now call The Hub. Eventually the Great Mechanic Ratanga was able to establish colonies on six of Earth’s continents.”

“And that’s the story of the Original People that you weren’t supposed to tell?” I asked.

“In Geminay it is the duty of the shamans to relay what information the Sworn Assets need to know, my lady,” the footman said in a rote tone.

“And now, fifteen thousand years later, are the Original People still afraid that this alien species will find us here?” Sean asked.

“My lord, the Great Mechanic Ratanga taught that it is a certainty that the enemy would always be looking for us. Many, many of our people died and the enemy is bent on our complete destruction. Had it not been for the genius of the Great Mechanic Ratanga, our people and culture would have been lost. The Great Mechanic Ratanga found a way so that we might exist safely on this planet and live the culture of our home world as closely as possible. Except for the Sworn Assets and the small amount of our genetic material in them, there is nothing of us on the surface of Earth. And the Mechanics monitor the humans carefully, very carefully, for actions that might bring the enemy here.”

“Do humans have anything to fear from the enemy?” Sean asked.

“The shamans believe humans are still primitive enough not to draw its notice, my lord.”

The footman spoke these things as if they were self-evident, but to me they weren’t.

“How is it that such an advanced society such as this one found itself so badly overmatched by this enemy?” I asked.

The footman allowed himself some outrage. “The enemy is an underhanded species, more calculating than any machine. On the Original World, in our more primitive and unenlightened state, people used devices to communicate, to run their transportation, their food production, almost everything in their world. The enemy infiltrated our society by using those devices and attempted to destroy us from within. The Great Mechanic Ratanga saw the plan in enough time to have created a contingency. He saved many of our people.”

“How did the Great Mechanic Ratanga decide who would be saved?” Sean asked.

“He chose only those with the best minds and health. Lack of physical and mental disease was paramount. He wanted genetic diversity among people with varied skill sets. The last thing he wanted on the new worlds was a struggle for resources, so he brought only the best citizens, flora, and fauna. Every citizen he brought had to understand that our culture depended on staying hidden and orderly.”

“So he selected both highborn and lowborn?” I asked.

“Yes, because both had skills that our new colonies would need,” the footman replied fervently. “The Great Mechanic Ratanga did a great service to our People when he removed from our gene pool those individuals who would have been an impediment to our survival. Your lordship and ladyship should feel confident that you were created from the best stock.”

“He says that with a straight face,” Sean said with a slight shake of his head. “Eugenics anyone?”

I chuckled. “Quit complaining. You were created from the best stock.” I turned to the footman. “Why did the Tarkwins—the enemy—want to exterminate the Original People in the first place? That couldn’t be random.”

The footman flinched when I said the name of the murderous species aloud. “My lady, some of that knowledge has been lost to history. What we can be sure of is that they wanted our planets for themselves. The Great Mechanic Ratanga realized that before any other and he had sent out scouts in search of new homes. Without his foresight, we would have all been lost.”

“He sounds like he was a great man,” Sean said.

Too great, I thought. “To live here under the surface of the earth must take a great deal of technological wizardry. Yet I don’t see it in use.”

The footman paused as if he had trouble remembering something. “My lady, because it’s dangerous, only the Mechanics are authorized to use technology to keep the destructive forces of nature at bay. That leaves the highborn people of Geminay as the repository of our culture. When we get back to the home planet, then we can rebuild from what we have preserved. The Great Mechanic Ratanga warned us to keep our culture pure. He reminded us that we have a responsibility to those who died so that we might live. His wisdom teaches that society is a three-legged table. The lowborns’ and Discards’ labor allows the Mechanics and the highborn to carry out their roles. The Great Mechanic Ratanga brought the species we needed from the home planet for the lowborn to recreate agriculture here. Earth has the right proportion of rock and water to make that possible. The Mechanics may send the rain, but only the lowborn know how to turn the soil into food for the Original People and their livestock.”

“A three-legged table?” Sean said, his eyes on the footmen and the maids. “That sounds about right. In this world everybody knows exactly which leg he or she is. My late shaman, Whitlock, told me that there’s no crime or civil unrest. The system does all their thinking for them.”

“My mom says that it’s easy to be a saint in paradise,” I said. “What happens if somebody wants to change legs? Does a person have the right to do that?”

“Yes, my lady, the highborn frequently do when selected by the Mechanics to join their number,” the footman replied.

“At least there’s that,” Sean said, his voice slightly mocking.

“That will be all,” I said to the footman.

He returned to his place with the others.

“Do you really believe the Tarkwins are still looking for them?” I asked. “I mean, really, after fifteen thousand years? Even the biggest gripes humans have had against each other never lasted that long. It makes me wonder if the Tarkwin story is a big lie just to keep us quiet.”

“He seems to believe it.”

“Where’s the proof?”

Sean shrugged. “Maybe we should withhold judgment until we’ve seen more. And who knows, maybe His and Her Majesty will decide that our meeting one another was unforgiveable and we’ll be put to the lava and it will all be a moot point.”

“Thank you for bringing that up, Mr. Happy.”

He smiled a crooked grin. “I aim to please, my lady.”

I had to look away. He was so good-looking that he distracted me. Now that we seemed to be out of immediate danger, I couldn’t help but find myself drawn more and more to him. Unlike with Martin and other boys I dated, with Sean I felt like I could be myself, which was saying something, since I didn’t really know who that was anymore. Most boys probably would consider a girl like me, who could kill with a touch, something akin to a loaded gun with a hair trigger, but Sean didn’t. He wasn’t afraid of me at all. He’d seen me at my worst and at my best, and he was still here.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked softly.

“How, in a way, coming here has been a little bit of a relief.” I couldn’t completely tell him the truth. I paused to check is expression before going on. “When I was little, I used to tell Mom that her outfits didn’t match. She would think her blouse perfectly matched her skirt, and all I could see was the clashing of yellow reds with purple reds. I could even see shades of red in what everybody else said was black and dark brown. I was about five before I realized that others couldn’t.”

“I hear that. The kindergarten teacher called my mother to complain that I had corrected her on the colors of some construction paper. She thought they were the same color and I knew they weren’t. That teacher wanted me tested for colorblindness. My aunt said that I was experiencing auras because I could see what others couldn’t. And in that she was right.”

“Now, here, in this place, I am free to see it all and say so.” I bit my lip for a second. “Did you tell anyone when you started seeing the diamonds in your eyes?”

“No way. Mom and Dad had already sent me to see that therapist because of the fight with my brother. The last thing I needed was for them to think I had gotten crazier. I did ask to go to the optometrist. One part of me sat in that chair with all that equipment in front of my face absolutely terrified that the guy would see those diamonds and say I was possessed or something. The other part wanted him to see them so that I wouldn’t be worrying I was losing my mind. And all along I sensed that my three closest friends were different.”

My heart gave a lurch. “How?”

“Whenever I touched them, I felt a tiny tingle, like a tiny vibration. It had always been like that, since we were little. I remember telling my mother about it, and she started asking a lot of probing questions. Add that to the list of what not to say.”

I had the same memory. “I had that on my list too. Can you feel in colors?”

“Feel in colors?”

“Give me your hand.”

Sean did, and I touched him, setting off explosions and fireworks in my mind. The air shimmered around our hands. Ribbons of light from all the shades of red formed in the air and developed a shimmering globe that covered their hands. The light became corporeal and the blues felt different from the yellows and greens.

“You can mingle and control our energy,” he said. “I can feel the colors. I can feel your colors.”

“Yeah,” I said, overwhelmed by the sensation. I could experience his essence, his spirit, and soul through the bubble. It was as intimate as a kiss. I jerked my hand away abruptly and was immediately embarrassed by how sensitive I must have seemed—or insensitive—I didn’t know which.