Alien Invasion and Other Inconveniences (16 page)

The ship rises then, as if it was only waiting for the opportunity to get rid of its incompetent and dangerous pilot and crew. It floats up over the trees and heads back in the direction we came from. Its engine is making a sound like someone banging on a pot, but the sound gets farther and farther off. Then it’s gone and all we hear is the silence.

We all agree that we should probably get some sleep, so we find a place under some trees.

The temperature has dropped since the sun went down, but we make beds out of leaves, and it’s not so bad. It’s not so good, either. We’re cold and hungry, but exhaustion overcomes both, and after a while we all fall asleep. My sleep is deep and dreamless. I’m grateful for that.

It’s funny how beautiful the sunrise is the next morning. The warmth on my face, the way the light falls across the field, all of it is so beautiful. In spite of everything, I’m grateful to be alive to see this, to feel something ninety-three million miles away warm my face.

Catlin and Lauren are still asleep. Catlin looks so young when she sleeps, like a kid. But we aren’t young anymore. That’s gone.

PERSONAL LOG:

I sent Handlers after the three who killed Anchise and took his ship. It is beyond belief that primitives could kill him, but they did.

My wife annoys me with requests that I would normally be pleased to grant. This wilderness is harder on her than I’d imagined. My daughters miss their friends and school. Thinking of my family makes me angry. My plans have been ruined by product. It is intolerable. If my daughters and wife were not here, I would have followed the product myself and killed them. I would have betrayed the One and killed them slowly and rudely.

I checked on the Handlers. None of them have training as trackers. They move slowly into the wilderness, finding and losing the runaway slaves’ trail.

I’m at my desk, where there is much work to be done, but I don’t do it. My father’s last message burns in my mind. I have tried to destroy it, but he is powerful and communication from him, even from a great distance, is difficult to destroy.

I see it again and it fills me with anger.

Your last report is full of self-pity. You displease me. You should have seen the danger sooner and you should have taken immediate action. What have I taught you if not to always act quickly and decisively when confronted by a threat? Never wait for the other to strike first. Never think of losses. You hesitated out of greed. Do not complain to me of my scouts. Do not try to blame the company. This is your colony. You are the First Citizen. Any excuses only make your failure more evident. Destroy the runaways now. Contact me when you have succeeded.

This is my colony. So be it. I will make this colony work, and I will prove him wrong. I will do whatever I have to do to succeed. I will show him strength.

By afternoon, that warm, pleasant morning sun has become our enemy. It scorches us like it’s scorched this brown, dusty earth. We turn various shades of red, Catlin the worst, a deep lobster color. Besides burning us and making us sweat, which allows dust to stick to every bare part of our skin, it dehydrates us. We’ve had no food or water since yesterday, and though the lack of food is uncomfortable, it’s the thirst that really hurts. My throat is dry as sand, my lips crack painfully, and I’m unable to make even the tiniest drop of spit. I’m feeling pretty sorry for myself.

In spite of all this, Lauren keeps asking Catlin how she cured her. Her mouth is too dry to make words, so she uses her mind.

How did you know, though? How could you?
she asks.

As though she’s finally fed up, Catlin thinks,
I’m a freak, all right? It’s lucky for you I am
.

I’m grateful,
Lauren thinks.
I just don’t understand how you’d know, how you could learn that fast. It’s got to be like surgery or something
.

Lauren stops walking, and we all stop and stand uncertainly. It is a big, empty land, and it feels like we’ll never get out of it.

But I have to admit that Lauren’s questions aren’t totally unreasonable. How could Catlin learn to do what she did? I mean, we’ve all learned things, but nothing like what she did for Lauren, nothing on that level. I’ve known from the start she was different but — and then I realize what I should have realized earlier.

You were like this, weren’t you?
I mean, before the invasion even. You were like we are now
.

She looks surprised but tries to hide it with a shrug.
Not like this. I’ve increased in strength, too
.

Wait,
Lauren thinks,
you’re saying you had these abilities? Telepathic abilities?

Weak ones
.

How weak?

I couldn’t talk to anyone with my mind yet. I could hear sometimes. I could do small things
.

Lauren questions Catlin about what she could and couldn’t do. Now some of the things she was able to do before make sense.

My mom was a healer,
she thinks.
I have her gift. She taught me a few things, but my formal training wouldn’t have started until I graduated from high school
.

You brought me into your dream, didn’t you?
I think.

She shakes her head.
I made the connection. I could sometimes see other people’s dreams. Yours were strong. But I could never do what you do. There are stories about dreamwalkers. Legends. No one I’ve known could dreamwalk
.

So you’d seen your mother do what you did for me?
Lauren thinks, still trying to work out an explanation for what happened.

Not like that. My power has increased by being around them, too. I’m not even sure my mother could have done what I did. Like I said, we were very lucky
.

But your whole family,
Lauren thinks.
You all had these abilities?

Some of us
.

“We’ve got to keep moving,” I say, though it doesn’t seem like we’ve gotten anywhere all morning or that there is anyplace to get to. And I sure don’t want to move again. But I take a step and another and another. The girls follow.

Lauren manages a few more questions, but after a while we’re all too hot, too burned, too sweaty, too thirsty, to do anything but mindlessly put one foot in front of the other.

We walk and we walk. Finally, in late afternoon Lauren spots a house. It’s a big old ranch house that could use a coat of paint but that sits not far off the highway under a dozen shade trees. It looks like an oasis. We turn up the drive, and just being close to this place gives us energy.

“I see a well,” I say.

“A shower,” Lauren says. “There’s got to be a shower.”

“I want to drink my shower,” I say.

“There’s food,” Catlin says.

“You can sense that there’s food?” Lauren says.

“Power of positive thinking.”

“Does that work?” Lauren says.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, I thought, you know, it might be a talent or something.”

“Uh, no. I think it’s just some, like, lame psychology. My dad used to say it. Joke about it.”

When we’re almost to the door, Lauren says, “I don’t know if I’ve thanked you properly for saving my life. Thank you.”

Catlin says, “No problem.”

We go inside.

There’s water. We all drink and drink. It tastes unbelievably good, in spite of a hint of metal in it. Lauren goes and takes her shower.

There’s electricity from somewhere; either it’s still being generated or the farm has a generator. I turn on the window air conditioners. Catlin and I sit on the sofa in the living room. It feels so good to sit. I could fall asleep right there.

“Do you feel them more?” Catlin says.

“Who?” I say

“The rebels. It’s like I feel them more, like they’re more real.”

“I don’t know,” I say, but now that she says this, I wonder if she could be right. They do seem more real. I mean, I believe in them more. Could they be doing it somehow? It’s kind of a crazy thought, or at least it would have been a year ago.

Lauren comes out with a towel wrapped around her head. Her skin is brown, but there’s a cute flush of red on her cheeks and across her nose. She looks clean and, I don’t know, new somehow.

“You haven’t checked out the food yet?” she says.

We shake our heads. She leads us into the kitchen.

Most of the food in the fridge is rotten. Some carrots are okay. We find a freezer in the garage though. Ice cream.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” Lauren says, holding the carton to her cheek.

“What kind?” Catlin says.

“Chocolate chip,” Lauren says.

“There is a God.”

The girls go inside, but I want to look through the freezer. I find meat and some kind of frozen stew, which I bring in to show the girls.

“We’ve got this,” Catlin says, holding up the ice cream. “Who cares?”

“Just in case we get tired of ice cream.”

Lauren shakes her head at me. “You can’t be serious. Maybe you didn’t hear me. Chocolate chip, dude.”

We get spoons and put the half gallon between us. We go at it, and it is better than I ever remember ice cream tasting.

I know it’s unreasonable, but this house feels comfortable immediately, almost like a home. Maybe because the aliens aren’t so near, I feel free in a way that I haven’t in a long time, almost safe.

In a little family room off the kitchen, we find some DVDs. We decide on
The Fellowship of the Ring
and all sit on the sofa to watch.

Catlin says, “If we had some kick-ass heroes like those guys, no aliens would have ever conquered us. They wouldn’t have had a chance.”

“Aragorn,” Lauren says, sighing and patting her heart. “I’m just saying, what couldn’t the man do?”

“I know, right?” Catlin says. “The aliens would have just given up.”

I could point out a few things. Like, for instance, Aragorn would have probably fallen asleep like most humans. He was just a man, after all. Now, Gandalf, maybe
he
could have helped. I keep quiet, though.

After a short while, Catlin falls asleep. Lauren and I finish the DVD. We’re sitting on the sofa, Catlin sleeping right through everything, battle scenes and all. I ask Lauren if she has any brothers or sisters. Like me, she doesn’t. This leads to talk about parents. Her parents were divorced.

“My dad ran off with his secretary. Talk about a cliché.”

“You never saw him?”

“He left us. He didn’t care about me. My mom remarried, and my stepdad was really cool. He’s more like my real dad. Your parents weren’t divorced, right?”

“No,” I say. “They weren’t.”

“No one could make me crazy like my dad. I stole from him this one time my mom forced me to spend a weekend with him. I took all the money from his wallet, like a hundred dollars, and gave it to the first homeless person I could find.” She blushes and shakes her head. “Crazy.”

I put in the second DVD. It doesn’t feel as comfortable in the room as it did. I don’t realize until I sit back down how embarrassed she is. It’s probably the only big thing she’s ever done wrong.