Page 21

Seeker

I stand outside in the darkness for longer than I’d like.

I need to be planning. Don’t I?

Then I send a text before I can think better of it. To Jen, before I can change my mind.

Seeker: Make time for me tomorrow. I’ll tell you everything.

The short conversation I had with Jaz at the restaurant changed so much. Since she’s been here for ten years; she’s better at blending in.

“Why didn’t you leave?” I’d asked, taking advantage of the privacy.

“I want to be here. Things are simple. Their rules are easy to follow. I have a marketable skill, and my people are naturally talented in this sphere. We learn patterns quickly.”

She’s a professional musician on 97-B. I don’t know what she looks like with her tech turned off, but it’s fascinating that it makes her look human to me as well. What do I look like to her?

There was no time to ask about the particulars then, so I’d deferred that curiosity for later. Instead, I asked the blazing question. “You don’t intend to leave? Ever?”

“This is my home,” she reiterated. “If you stop being stubborn, it could be yours too.”

Then she pushed past me, heading to rejoin the others. I followed, reeling with the new information. And apparently, I did a bad job of covering my reaction. Now Jen seems to think I might be untrustworthy. But that’s a problem for later.

I have so many questions for Jaz that I consider calling her.

Or texting. But I can’t trust human tech with our safety.

It will have to wait until we’re alone again, whenever that is.

The idea of accepting my fate and trying to build a life here feels…

heretical, almost. Like a scientist deciding to remain among the primates they’ve been researching.

I head inside the small dwelling.

My nomadic existence has been grim and lonely by choice.

I’ve always been aware that this is temporary and I shouldn’t draw attention to myself.

I work enough to meet my basic needs and I do most of my shopping remotely.

Apart from the people in the Aliens Among Us group chat, I have no connections here.

That should make it easier for me to leave.

But at the launch site, how am I supposed to slip past all the security and search for serviceable supplies?

I can use tech to research the base, but that doesn’t eliminate the physical component of breaking in.

And I’m a thrill seeker, not a hardened criminal.

I’ve only broken Galactic Union rules by venturing to planets dubbed unsafe by the travel bureau.

And so far, I’ve always beaten the odds.

But everyone meets their match at some point.

Realistic assessment suggests that I’ll get myself killed attempting to raid a billionaire’s compound on my own.

I have been clinging to that solution out of desperation, feeling as if I had no other options.

Now, I’ve been presented with one that seemed impossible before.

Because I can’t be myself here. My entire existence would be a lie.

Yet Jaz has done it. So does that mean I have a second viable option?

What if I stay? There’s much I need to learn, but maybe I can manage.

I’d be lying if I said Jen had nothing to do with the thoughts I’m suddenly entertaining. I want to know her, but we can’t develop an honest relationship as long as I’m hiding such a massive secret.

Can I trust Jen?

Does Jaz have people in her life who know the truth and would perish to keep her safe? Because that’s what it might require. And do I have the right to ask that of anyone? To expect it, even? The answers to those questions don’t come, as I prepare and consume the mixture that keeps me alive.

Tomorrow, I’ll confide in Jen. If anyone will understand, she will. She’s desperate for confirmation I can provide. I don’t know if she’ll still be interested in…more, once she knows. But I’m sure we’ve made a real connection.

I have to be. I’m staking my life on it.

My biological needs met, I bring out the emergency beacon and tinker with it.

Though I don’t know what will happen tomorrow with Jen, the ritual of working on the beacon soothes my nerves.

The vertical space of this domicile is compact and cozy, a safe place to nest, but little else.

While I would use other materials, the ones humans provide are sufficient and I manage to rest. According to my research, humans experience an interesting state of unconsciousness called dreaming.

Their minds offer up random scenes, sometimes populated with nonsensical events.

While I do rest, I don’t lose connection to my conscious mind. My people are known for their ability to memory walk. I pick a comforting occasion, learning from Oona, and settle in to relive the moment.

Much later, I stir, feeling refreshed. It occurs to me that I haven’t arranged for a means of transport to town.

And I must vacate these premises before too much longer.

I have left no traces, as I have devices dedicated to hygiene, and I will use them as long as they function.

Standing in an interior deluge—no, a shower—reminds me of inclement weather, and I feel no cleaner when I dry off.

I check the habitation to ensure I haven’t left anything, then collect my meager belongings.

As I step outside, I spot Jen’s boxy vehicle zipping down the road toward me.

Even though I didn’t ask her to come, she’s here.

That speaks volumes about how reliable she is.

She understands me as no one ever has, and I can trust her.

It’s time to tell her. To share the burden and try to figure out what to do.

But as she draws nearer, I spot Tad in the passenger seat. While I’m willing to risk sharing the information with Jen, I’m not ready to spill it to the whole group. It’s too much of a statistical uncertainty. I need to see how Jen reacts first.

“We’re meeting for breakfast,” Tad says as I enter the vehicle from the rear.

I’m already out of patience with these meal gatherings because they’re another way that I’m forced to hide who I am. I’ll need another excuse for why I’m not ordering anything.

“I didn’t know. I’ve already eaten.”

“You can have coffee,” Jen suggests.

Coffee would poison me. It probably wouldn’t be fatal, but that much caffeine would be a serious hallucinogen, and there’s no telling what I’d say.

“I don’t drink it. Caffeine is bad for me.”

“I shouldn’t either,” Tad says unexpectedly. “Gives me the jitters. But when I haven’t slept much, I need the energy boost. I got so sick on energy drinks in college that I haven’t touched them since.”

Jen takes her eyes off the road briefly to smile at Tad. “You could do green tea. Just a bit of caffeine.”

“It’s not an issue today. I slept like a rock as soon as I got back to the RV.” He half turns in the seat. “Speaking of which, are you bunking with me tonight? The offer still stands if you need a place.”

I make a noncommittal noise. “Thanks for the offer.”

“Everything in town is booked. I’ve seen pics online, but nothing prepares you for the crowds.

They’ve got stalls on the corners, selling pastries and bottles of juice and water because the restaurants can’t keep up.

” Jen adds, “Ravik and Poppy are getting food. We’re having a picnic at Tad’s place.

Then we’ll start planning the rest of our day. ”

“Sounds good,” I say.

What else can I say in front of Tad? That I have important news and I need to speak with her alone? It’s true, but it will make Tad wonder what’s up. I don’t need to set up a chain reaction of gossipy speculation.

In addition, such an ominous tone doesn’t fit the day’s mood.

The weather is cheerful and bright, all yellow glow.

If I wasn’t anxious about talking to Jen, I’d love to bask in the sunshine.

Heat metabolizes beautifully for me, filtering out toxins and deep cleaning my system.

I don’t think it works that way for humans, though I believe they get some benefits from sunlight.

There are risks as well, as their skin is delicate, unlike mine.

We drive in the opposite direction from town, and I catch up silently on all the text messages I missed during my memory walk.

There aren’t many, just the rest of the group making plans and presuming I would pose no objections.

I have a private message from Jaz, however.

I hope she hasn’t been unwise or indiscreet.

Jaz: Think about what I said.

Nothing overt. I relax a trifle.

If she’s been here for ten human years, she knows how to live among them. I don’t need to worry about her discretion. Though I’m embarrassed to admit it, the opposite might not be true.

But I’ll be careful. And I’ll bide my time until I can get my moment with Jen.

I’ve lived taking risks, and there’s no reason to stop, not when the reward could be so incredible.