Saven Deception (36 page)

“Good people of Earth,” the king says in
his odd cadence. “I would like to reiterate what Mr. President has already
stated and have it noted as a matter of record that the Saven are privileged to
have entered into such a fruitful alliance with your ruling government. This
relationship is as important to our race as it is to yours. Together, I believe
we can support each other as we strive to develop both societies and herald a
future era of growth and prosperity. We have been pleased at the extent of the
organic integration between our kinds in Thalassic City. Such was my faith in
your ruling government that I agreed to allow my two sons to participate in
‘The Experimento.’ I’m delighted to announce that both Logan and Dante have
settled well into human society, sending me glowing reports of their experience
in Thalassic City.”

Logan and Dante’s pictures fill the width
of the screen as the king resumes his speech. “This gives both myself and Mr.
President great comfort and confidence in extending our plans. There is much
the Saven have to learn from humanity, and we anticipate a strengthening of the
bond between both our races in the coming months. I would like to take this
opportunity to thank Mr. President, Mr. Vice President, and Commissioner
Williams for their hospitality and their very warm welcome. I look forward
immensely to a mutually satisfactory working relationship well into the
future.”

Political bullshit is obviously an
interplanetary skill.

The extent of the mutual deception is
appalling. I can only hope most people see through the lies.

Then the president throws in a sweetener.
Thanks to the boost in our natural fuel reserves, he announces an imminent
increase of the fuel allocation. “That’s super smart,” I say to no one in
particular. It will help generate goodwill within the lower classes.

Reporters trade shell-shocked looks as the
camera fades out and the broadcast ends.

“Tomorrow should certainly be
interesting,” Haydn says, his hand on the door. Neve leaves with him, and Logan
and I get ready for bed.

We are lying on our backs, side by side in
bed, entrenched in thought. “Logan? Do you think Jen and my dad are in a better
place?”

He twists onto his side and takes my hand
in his. “I do. They are.” His eyes shine with conviction.

“Does your kind believe in heaven?” I
tighten my grip on his hand.

“There are two opposing beliefs on Saven.
One group—those who remain loyal to our Elders and the culture of the
past—believe in transcendence and that the soul lives on indefinitely. The
other group—which is growing in popularity—believe that the soul dies along
with the physical vessel and that we simply cease to exist in any form.”

His finger traces a delicate path over the
back of my hand and the sensation is exquisite, radiating skin deep. “What do
they say about those who are Eterno connected?”

“Where there is one soul, there is one
transcendence for eternity. In the old scribes, they said that those who were
Eterno connected passed over at the same moment in time. ‘Exist as one’ is
central to their core thinking.”

I’m almost sorry I asked. A million
questions lie unanswered on my tongue, but I can’t deal with any more heavy
stuff right now. Jenna’s loss consumes me. More than my father’s death has
affected me. Then again, I’ve spent my whole life grieving the loss of my
father, so in a way, his passing doesn’t feel any different from normal.

Proving that he knows me nearly as well as
I know myself, Logan doesn’t expand on that statement or probe me for my views.
“I want to exist as one with you,” he says quietly.

His words are profound in their
simplicity. And in that moment, it’s exactly what I need to hear.

The hostile stares start the minute we leave the apartment
building the next morning. Haydn and Logan shelter me between them as we emerge
onto campus grounds. Most people keep a wide berth. Some are clearly terrified,
others appear happy to feign ignorance, while some exhibit definite
stupid-brave traits.

“Weirdos!”

“Alien-lover!”

“Freaks!”

“Alien-slut!”

“E.T., phone home!”

“I bet they look like gross, giant, ugly
bugs beneath their human skin,” one guy says in a deliberately brash tone.

“Yo! People!” I shout out at the top of my
lungs, clearly having reached my tipping point. “We got a bug in the electrical
system!”

A few heads turn in my direction, mouths
agape. Haydn snickers as Logan basically tumbles over himself in shock. “Did
you just quote Will Smith?”

“I did,” I admit proudly.                 

He swings me around, my legs twirling
through the air. His infectious laughter surrounds me and I join in. When he
grounds me, his lips rapidly find mine and my arms wrap firmly around his neck.
“I love you,” he says in between kisses.

“I know,” I reply feebly.

The hostility intensifies ten-fold after
our PDA, but I silently stick two-fingers to the world.

I’m like the living embodiment of a
terminal illness for the remainder of the day. Most every class I attend,
people avoid me without trying to disguise it. It has certain advantages. Like
when I enter the cafeteria with Logan—totally ravenous—and the line magically
evaporates on the spot. Neat. Or when I dash to the ladies—bladder bursting at
the seams—and the room clears in seconds.

Fern is the only person who dares to sit
beside Haydn and me in class. Her new—as it turns out alien—boyfriend, Rylan,
joins us for some sessions. He only told her the truth last night, but she’s
handling it super well.

Concern for her wellbeing propels me into
immediate action. “You haven’t slept with him, have you?”

She harrumphs. “No. Definitely not.”

My shoulders sag in relief. “Don’t. Trust
me, it’s important. Actually, screw that. Promise me you won’t.” I know I’ve no
right to demand that of her, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit by and
watch another friend die. She twists in her seat and pins me with a curious look.
“There’s a good reason behind my request. I can’t explain yet, but as soon as I
can I will.”

She locks her hands behind her head and
leans back. “You don’t have anything to worry about in that regard.” She looks
as miserable as sin. “Rylan’s very hands-off. I don’t think he’s attracted to
me.”

“That’s not it.” I vigorously shake my
head. “All it means is that he’s one of the good guys. Believe me, it means he
likes you a lot.”

My words bring a smile to her lips. I
squeeze her hand. She’ll be all right. Rylan doesn’t want to hurt her.

 “So,” Fern says, switching subjects. “Is
Logan like a prince or something?” Of course, she already knows Logan’s true
identity thanks to the president’s naming and shaming last night.

“Yeah,” I admit, whipping a pink tie off
my wrist and yanking my hair into a ponytail. “Actually, he’s next in line to
the throne.”

“Get out!” Fern says, excitement bubbling
to the surface. “That’s awesome!”

Without thinking about it, I reach over
and hug her something fierce. She looks perplexed. “All I’ve heard all day so
far is a variation of ‘alien-lover’ and ‘alien-slut,’” I explain, “so I love
your enthusiasm!”

She lifts her fist and we knuckle touch.
Haydn looks at us as if
we
are the alien life forms. I’m on the verge of
telling Fern about Jenna when I pull back. I don’t know how to explain it
without arousing suspicion. Besides, it’s too raw and I’m not sure I can talk
about her without breaking down.

With all that’s going on, I have to
compartmentalize, and while I dislike relegating my friend’s passing to the
back of my mind, it’s the only choice I have if I’m to remain fully functional.
Deliberately forcing Jenna from my thoughts doesn’t mean I don’t care or she
didn’t mean something to me. Because she did.

Haydn—in a very human-like gesture—kisses
the top of my head. These aliens are more intuitive than anyone is giving them
credit for.

Of course, the irony is that there are
hundreds more undetected aliens mingling in the halls. While tension and
suspicion laces the air and apprehensive looks are traded all day, most people
are unable to pinpoint who is human and who is alien. Part of me shudders at
how easily they’ve secretly infiltrated our ranks, while another part of me is
enthralled at how naturally they’ve adapted to our world.                                  

“I’m inventing a new game,” I tell Fern
and the boys as we sit in isolation in the corner of the cafeteria. “It’s
called spot the alien.” Haydn rolls his eyes as Fern snickers.

“That g—” Logan says, gesturing toward a
longhaired dude sitting three tables away.

“Not you!” I nudge him. “Duh! As if you
couldn’t tell your own kind. This is a game strictly for humans.” I hold my
head in the air projecting superiority. Fern titters into her spaghetti.

“No fair,” Logan says, mock pouting. “I
don’t like being left out.”

“What? Are you like three years old?”

His eyes crinkle with mischief. “Let’s
make this a little more interesting.” He winks and certain parts of my anatomy
spark to life. “A reward for each one you correctly identify and a punishment
if you fail.”

There’s no denying the seductive
implication behind his words. Hells. Now those scandalous parts of my anatomy
are jumping up and down for joy.

I lean into him and his hungry eyes fixate
on me. “What’s the reward?”

“A kiss.”

Haydn chokes on his lunch as Fern hollers
her approval.

“And the punishment?” My eyes glisten with
anticipation.

Logan inches forward, his mouth
millimeters from mine. We stare openly, entranced in each other and the moment.

My head jolts back as something cold and
hard slams into my temple. A buzzing, fizzing noise surrounds me as I’m
blanketed in a drizzle of sticky liquid. Logan slams his palms on the Formica
top and swings his legs clean over the table. He moves with remarkable grace
and speed advancing toward a bunch of hooting boys a few tables away. One of
them clearly threw it at me.

Fern retrieves the empty soda can and
thumps it on the table. She extracts a wad of paper towels from her bag and
hands them to me. Haydn hovers, debating whether to stay or go. I watch Logan
as he raises his fists, ready to go into battle in my honor. “Stop him. Go.”
Standing up, I shove Haydn in his direction. Out of the corner of my eye, I
spot Dante standing off to the side. A triumphant smile teases his lips. My
fellow students are riled up enough without Dante manipulating their minds. I
stomp toward him without hesitation.

As I approach, Haydn clamps his arm around
Logan in an attempt to restrain him. I walk past them and rush Dante. “What the
hell? Isn’t it enough that you killed my best friend?!”

A flash of pain skitters across his face.
“I didn’t want that to happen to her.”

I fasten my hands on my hips. “What? Now
you care?”

“I always cared.” He rests his foot
against the wall. “You shouldn’t trust him, you know.” He points at Logan.
“He’ll screw you over too. He always hurts those he loves.”

“You expect me to believe anything that
comes out of your mouth? You’re a loser, Dante. Once a loser, always a loser.”
I walk away before I do or say something I’ll regret.

 Logan pulls me to him as Fern appears
carrying both our book bags.  The group of guys who were rowdy a few minutes
ago is looking fearfully at Logan and Haydn. I catch a few hostile looks but
this group looks scared in the main.

“For the record,” I say, gesturing toward
Haydn and Logan. “These are the good guys. If you want to let your inner alien
hatred run wild, please direct it at his kind.” I motion toward Dante who is
surveying the scene safely from the sidelines.

I sense Logan’s anger as we make our exit.
The entire cafeteria is ghostly quiet and all eyes track our movements. When we
push through the double doors out into the hall, I release a strangled breath.

“Are you okay, Sadie?” Logan asks in a
carefully controlled voice.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing a shower and a
change of clothes won’t cure.”

“They humiliated you.” A muscle pops in
his jaw.

Reaching out, I smooth my thumb over his
cheek and try to ease his tension. “No they didn’t. They tried to. But it only
works if I let them have that power over me. I’m not going to and you shouldn’t
either.”

***

Haydn escorts me back to my apartment to change. Logan has
been summoned to an emergency meeting with his father. I practically had to
push him out the door such was the strength of his reluctance to leave. Making
an on-the-spot executive decision, I choose to stay away from campus for the
afternoon. Despite my earlier fighting spirit, I’m not sure I have what it
takes to voluntarily head back for round two.

Standing in front of my closet, trying to
decide what to wear, brings an image of Jenna to the forefront of my mind with
an anguished pang. She picked out most of these clothes for me. Tears prick my
eyes but I force them away. I can’t afford to give into my grief.

My fingers wander to the knee-length floral
summer dress that has sat unworn in my closet for weeks. It’s not my normal
style, but Jenna insisted I buy it. She said it brought out the hidden blue in
my gray eyes. I slip the dress off the hanger and shimmy it down over my head.
Though the day is sunny and bright, as usual, it’s not quite warm enough for
spaghetti straps. I locate a delicate white cardigan and shove my arms into it.

Stepping barefoot into the living area, I
acknowledge Haydn, and he gives me an appreciative look. “Um, you look pretty,
Sadie.”

“Thanks.” I beam at him. Walking into the
kitchen, I swipe the pitcher of juice from the refrigerator and two glasses
from the cupboard. I set them on the coffee table and sit down on the couch.
Haydn pours us both a drink.

The cool liquid slips down my throat. A
ping on the screen captures my attention. I switch it on, noting the myriad of
messages from Jarod. Locating my comm-clip, I quickly call him. He talks
animatedly in garbled sentences without pausing. “Hang on, Jarod. I can’t
understand a word you’re saying.”

“Where are you?”

“At home.”

“Alone?”

“Haydn is here.”

He mutters something incoherent. “I’m
coming over. There’s something I need to show you. Be there in an hour.”

I wear a path in the floor with my pacing while
I wait for Jarod to show up. Logan arrives before him. He’s in a foul mood but
he won’t, or can’t, tell either of us what’s wrong. He takes a shower while
Haydn and I exchange worried looks. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not
getting a good feeling about any of this.”

“I know,” Haydn agrees.

Jarod arrives a few minutes later, visibly
agitated. We three stand awkwardly in a circle in the center of the room. Then
Logan steps into the living room in a plain black collarless jersey shirt and
dark denims with his hair wet from the shower. Little beads of water cling to
his neck and face.

He looks at me as if for the first time
today. Slinging an arm around my waist, he places his chin atop my head. “You
look beautiful.” I love his confidence and maturity, that he has no qualms
about saying such things in front of an audience.

Jarod smirks before looking away. I hate
that he thinks it’s part of an act, and I resolve to set him straight at the
first opportunity. He links a private feed to the screen and taps in a code on
command. “I copied this off a secure government internal news feed earlier
today,” he says in a roughened voice. “You need to see it.”

The screen flickers to life and we gape at
the horrific images projected from the streets of New York. The picture flits
between the different sectors.

In the Outer Circle—my old stomping
ground—chaos and mayhem rain. Looters break through storefront windows, sending
torrents of glass flying in all directions. Desperate, scared people pilfer
everything in sight, watched despairingly by the helpless storeowners. Row upon
row of armed police—of the human, part-robotic, and fully cloned type—streams
uniformly into the various sectors unleashing a flurry of indiscriminate
bullets. Bodies smash to the pavement as screams spear the nighttime air.

Residents dangle precariously out of
windows of the surrounding high-rise buildings, throwing bricks and other
debris at the trigger-happy police below. Protestors climb up poles, jump on
the roofs of cars, and sit on top of trashcans, as they spout anti-alien and
anti-government sentiments at anyone who will listen.