First Life, page 7
part #1 of River Saga Series
Des snored soundly behind us, and Kylon approached, leaning in to speak with me. “I’ve managed to convince them to bring you to New York after Dallas.”
I smiled at the Angor woman. “Thank you for the help.”
“Think nothing of it. And thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“Being accepting of us. We feel the stares and animosity when we’re out among humans. You have been kind, and we appreciate it.” She looked at Miya. “All of you.”
I was used to Angor being around, but it was obvious they made themselves scarce in certain locations. Miya pursed her lips and tapped the glass with a pink fingernail. “They aren’t so bad.”
“I thought you were going to investigate…” Her glare cut me off.
“Honestly, I just want to see another world. Earth… is so…”
“Confining?”
“Boring,” she finished with a laugh.
“And you think Dicore will be any different?” I asked her. She was a smart kid, which meant she needed adventure.
“Dicore will change our people forever. A colony. Can you imagine stepping foot onto another world?” she asked.
Kylon had returned to her seat, and I spoke softly. “Why has no one been to Trum?” I asked Miya.
“It took them forever to get here. Didn’t they send a ship back, along with some humans, a few years after they came?”
That had been the rumor, but there was no evidence to convince us. “I think so. I have to tell you something.” If she was going on the Expedition, she’d find out soon enough.
“What is it?” She lost her easy smile, frowning instead.
“I was told that we have a Checkpoint in our solar system,” I whispered.
Her eyes bugged out. “Seriously? A link to the River?”
Des snorted, coming awake at her abrupt words. “Would you two keep it down?”
She sank into her seat and whispered, “The River? Yes. That’s how we’re going to get to Dicore in five months,” she said, as if it made perfect sense.
Five months. If I was lucky enough to join this expedition, I might just set foot on Dicore before this Xeno killed me.
Thinking about my impending death spurned me on.
“I’m even more excited,” she told me.
In Dallas, nearly all the passengers disembarked, including the pair of Angor. We said our goodbyes to Boris, then the mother and her two children. Miya, Desmond, and I were the sole remaining guests aboard the flight to Manhattan.
The vessel transported us in under an hour, landing atop the tower in the middle of Central Park. This was our official government office, leading the world since the Unity Accord was signed two decades ago. Representatives from each country were housed there, having a voice in our people’s futures, but really, the Angor were behind almost all of the decisions.
That was the rumor I’d heard over the years. I didn’t know what to believe.
We grabbed our bags before exiting the craft. I thanked the pilot and stepped onto the rooftop landing pad. Five more ships—identical to this, but unmarked—were parked atop the office building, and an Angor man rushed from a stairwell, holding a tablet.
“We’re sorry for your experience on the hovertrain,” he said. “You three are on the Expedition, yes?”
I glanced between my companions and cleared my throat. “I have to see Indie Hart.”
His dark eyes blinked, and he had a sheen of sweat on his ridged brow. “Assistant Director Hart is preoccupied with meetings. Can you please show me your Expedition clearance?” He stuck a hand out.
Desmond gave his, and so did Miya. The man waited for me, and I sighed loudly. “Please. I have to talk with Ms. Hart. It’s imperative.”
“Is she expecting you… Mr.…”
“Beck. Colton Beck. Mention my name.” I glanced past the alien, viewing the entire city from this vantage point. It had changed a lot since the Angor’s arrival, but I could still see the New York of before hidden between the giant skyscrapers. The Park surrounded Unity Tower, and the Empire State, along with countless other classic structures, was visible from here. I’d never been to the city before, and I was inspired. Dozens of floating vessels drifted over Manhattan, moving high above the bustling metropolis. Sounds from the streets remained constant in the background. It was a symphony of the city, and I loved it.
“Mr. Beck, Ms. Hart does not take…”
I stepped closer to the nervous Angor man, standing tall. “Tell her that I’m here. I’ll be in the… Herazel museum.”
“You sure he can’t slip in with us?” Desmond asked the guy.
“Not a chance. Without Expedition clearance, he’s breaching the accordance laws of…”
“Fine,” I muttered. “Take care of each other.”
Miya, the tough kid, was misty-eyed. “We’ll get you in.”
“Thanks,” I said, and Des was ushered off with Miya.
Before I could ask for a lift to the ground level, two armed Angor wearing thick black armor strode to me. “Onto the transport,” one of them said. It was a tiny rectangular ship, and the gullwing door swung upward, nearly clipping me in the chin. I entered, and expected to be escorted. Instead, the transport sealed shut, rising from the rooftop.
A few minutes later, it settled down, and I was released. I grabbed my bag and peered up at Unity Tower. Indie Hart was somewhere in there, and I hoped like hell that aide saw fit to pass my message along.
I had so much to say to her.
____________
Twenty Years Ago
Fayetteville, Arkansas
“We can’t stay, Bill.” My parents were at it again. Their bickering was endless. I slid my headphones in, not wanting to hear them, but didn’t press play on my device yet.
“Harriet, things will be fine. We’ve already seen the improvements. The Angor aren’t the enemy,” my dad assured my mom.
My door was closed, but voices traveled in this old house. “What about their plans to have us exit the interior? I don’t want to pack our things and go to the coast. What would we even do? I’m a middle school teacher. They’re trying to change our curriculum. Did you know that?”
“I can be a ventilation worker anywhere,” my dad said softly. “This might not be so bad. We’ve always talked about being stuck. Maybe it’s time to switch it up.”
“Bill… I’m scared.”
I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling that I’d looked at for my entire life. Instead of envisioning dinosaurs or baseball players in the popcorn stucco, I saw alien ships.
My phone beeped, and I grinned. It was Indie.
We seeing each other?
I wasn’t allowed to go out alone. Not once in the last five months since the Angor had come. It sucked. That didn’t stop Indie and me from sneaking out, and meeting by the river a few times a week.
Same spot? I sent the message. My parents were still talking, but they must have moved to the porch, because I could only hear the muffled discussion, not the words.
We have to talk
I stared at her message. I hadn’t been expecting that. My heart beat faster. This couldn’t be it. Since our first kiss, I’d been living in a dream. The Angor coming and disrupting the world didn’t even matter. Indie and I were in love.
It’s not bad, is it? My finger hovered over the screen, and I sent it.
I could tell she’d seen the note but didn’t respond. I waited for a couple tense minutes, wanting to text again. Then it came.
See you at eleven
I glanced at the clock. It was nine. My parents would be heading to bed in an hour.
My room was fairly tidy, and I strolled around it, scrutinizing my meager possessions. We might be moving. I had to find a way to keep my family here. Leaving meant splitting with Indie, and that was the last thing I wanted.
I ran a palm across my books stacked randomly on the shelf. Gone were the hard-covered, golden-spined children’s stories, replaced with space exploration and alien worlds. I found a dog-eared sci-fi and plucked it from the vast array of fiction titles.
The ships came at dawn. The first words sent shivers down my spine. The Angor may not have appeared with the rising of the sun, but it did feel like we were living inside a science fiction story. I returned it to the shelf and walked to the mirror.
My cheeks were red. I felt fine, not overheated. It was fall in Fayetteville, which usually meant it was still hot out, but the evenings offered some relief in the form of a cool breeze. I opened my window, releasing the latch and tugging it up. A gust of wind invaded my stuffy room. I returned to my reflection, but my face remained rosy.
I coughed a few times, feeling a tickle in my throat. Maybe I’d caught a cold. The Angor claimed they were able to cure any ailment, and already our planet was seeing the benefit of our Unity Accord come to fruition. I could handle the sniffles.
I waited for the sound of my parents’ door closing, and delayed another ten minutes before sneaking out of my window. The neighbor’s dog barked once, and I silently wished it to be quiet. My bike was already at the fence, leaning against the house, and I hopped on it, pedaling away from the only home I’d ever known.
Indie was always early, so I was determined to beat her to the river.
The sun was long set, and I rode through swaths of crusty orange and yellow leaves littering the streets this time of year. I went fast, cruising for my destination, anxious to hear what was so important to Indie.
I exited the neighborhood, racing by a playground and into the forested area near the ball diamonds. Baseball was over, and I doubted I’d ever play again. Things like little league didn’t seem important anymore.
The path was worn along the river, and I pedaled harder, eventually arriving at the rickety pier. Despite my being ten minutes early, Indie was already there, staring at the rolling water. The moon was nearly full, and I watched the stars for a second, wondering where the Angor hailed from.
Indie didn’t turn when my bike clattered to the end of the pier.
“Hey,” I called to her.
“Hey,” she responded. Her voice sounded deflated.
Indie sat on the edge of the pier. It had no safety rails, and no one knew who’d built this wooden overhang on the river’s bend. The tributary was about twenty yards wide, and I picked up a stone, tossing it across. It didn’t quite make it, and it splashed into the water.
Her posture was different, stooped. I’d known her my entire life, and recognized this mood. She’d been crying.
Instead of grilling her about it, I just plopped beside her, observing the river reflecting the moonlight. I’d let her speak first. Her head rested on my shoulder, and our fingers intertwined.
“I’m leaving,” she whispered.
“We just got here.”
“No. Fayetteville. We’re gone in a week.”
Her words slapped me across the face. My lungs burned, and I struggled to breathe.
“Colton?”
My ears rang, and her face blurred. I grabbed for my neck, wondering why I couldn’t inhale.
“You’re red!” she touched my forehead. “Burning hot! What’s the matter?”
I couldn’t answer. I grabbed my throat and finally caught my breath. It felt like hot coals across my lungs. “Call someone…” I managed to croak.
Indie understood and pulled her phone out. I heard bits and pieces of her conversation, and she was hysterical when she returned. “Col, they’re on the way!”
I was paralyzed with fear. Indie had just told me she was leaving, but that was a distant memory as pain consumed my body.
The moment I heard the sirens, I blacked out.
____________
“It’s something new, Mrs. Beck.”
The sounds around me were familiar. Gentle beeping of hospital machinery, keeping a patient alive. When I was younger, we’d spent a week with my grandmother while her life slowly seeped away from her grasp. It had been the worst time of my young existence, and had taken a heavy toll on my mother.
“What do we do? How do we beat it?” My mom’s voice was frantic, but soothing to me. She’d figure this out.
“Mrs. Beck, from what we can tell, there is no cure yet.”
I finally blinked my eyes open and watched a middle-aged male doctor make notes on his metal clipboard. He was smiling, but it felt fake. He glanced at me, and his expression changed. “It seems your son is awake.”
“Colton.” My mom’s hands were cool, and she clasped them as if she might never let go. “You’re going to be fine.”
“What is he talking about?”
“Who?”
“The doctor!” I tried sitting up, but my chest ached too much to move.
“Stay calm, Colton,” the doctor said. “You’ve been through a lot. How do you feel?”
“Like someone made me drink magma,” I told him.
He smiled again. “That should pass. It’s worse at the start.”
“The start of what?” I asked.
The doctor studied his clipboard again. “We’re calling it Xeno.”
“Xeno…” I looked at the ceiling. “Did they bring this?” I’d read enough science fiction to understand that xeno meant foreign, often relating to aliens or otherworldly things.
“What are you saying, Dr. Raddish?” my mom asked.
“We think it might have to do with the Angor, yes. But they’re working on it. It appears a tiny percentage of humans are reacting to the modifications they’ve released into our atmosphere,” he said gently.
“What did they do to my son?” My mom’s response wasn’t anything close to resembling timid. She hit the doctor in the chest, and he stepped away, holding his metal board up protectively.
“Mrs. Beck, I didn’t cause this. I’m just telling you what I’m supposed to—”
“What will happen to Colton?” she managed.
“Let’s discuss this in the hallway. Is your husband close?” Dr. Raddish asked.
I waved a hand, trying to get their attention. “What about me? I want to know what’s going on.” I spotted a man in a hazmat suit walking up to the door, and the doctor signaled to the exit. “What is he doing here?”
They ignored me, leaving the room. I looked around for the first time, finding I was in a private space. The suited man started putting up a plastic barrier outside my hospital room, and I noticed Indie rushing toward me on the other side of the glass. She was crying, and two men caught up to her. Security stopped her from entering, and we locked gazes for a moment.
I finally managed to sit up, watching my girlfriend struggle to free herself from the grip of the bulky security guards. Tears stained her cheeks, and I lifted a finger, wiggling it. She did the same. It was an old joke, something we’d carried since we were fishing at the river a few years before.
The guards dragged her away, and the hazmat suit finished quarantining my room.
I never saw Indie again.
FIVE
Now
Herazel was technically in Central Park, but it also covered a third of Harlem. I stared at the long line in front of me, tourists hoping to catch a peek inside the legendary Angor exploration vessel. They’d done a great job of making it appealing. The landscaping was beautifully executed, with winding concrete paths surrounded by a garden, making the wait somewhat more enjoyable.
The alien ship was thirty Manhattan city blocks in length, and five wide. I gawked up at the height, astounded the Angor had allowed one of their ships to be used for a tourist attraction. The area was covered with families on vacation to see Unity Tower, the home of our government.
One of the many screens along the path flashed on, showcasing a female actress. “Did you know that the Unity Accord was signed by over thirty people? Twenty humans and ten Angor. See the Unity Square just a mile south of the museum. If you’d like to purchase a pass, please click the link using your Angor-fueled tablet.”
The line shifted forward, and I was at the entrance in another ten minutes. They’d built a giant collection of stairs leading to the nose of the ship. The front was cut open, with five sets of doors leading into the vessel. I bought my pass, cringing at the exorbitant cost. A kid ran by me up the steps, clutching his mini replica of the Herazel, purchased from one of the many mini-gift shop kiosks placed beside the waiting line.
“When I grow up, I want to be an Angor,” he said firmly, showing me his toy.
“Dare to dream,” I said with a smile. I didn’t bother to tell the kid that it was impossible.
It was ten degrees cooler inside, and I stopped to admire the décor. The Angor were minimalists when it came to design. Their uniforms and clothing were quite utilitarian, as was the interior of this spacecraft. The walls and floor were a mixture of whites and grays. I saw nothing that stood out as a vibrant color.
“Don’t forget to download your tour map,” a friendly human host said to those entering. I pulled out my tablet and did just that. I wanted to see the engineering. For some reason, I’d always dreamed of being on that part of a ship’s crew. While most kids wanted to be sitting in a captain’s chair, ordering a robot to hit erratic speeds, I thought the real heroes were behind the walls, ensuring everyone arrived at their destination safely. It might account for why I’d worked on Angor construction crews for the last decade, while my oldest friend was in politics.
Once inside the ship, we were allowed free rein, and I parted from the clustered crowds, all eager to see the bridge or what passed for one among the Angor. Instead, I took the least busy corridor, seeing most of the entrances blocked off with eye-pleasing barricades. I wondered what was behind all the sealed-shut doors as I passed a medical bay.
We were on the primary deck. It was labeled with 0s throughout the corridors, and I understood there were two decks above and two below. The levels under me were called subdecks, and had -1 or -2 on the placards. Above were +1 and +2. I found their marking system interesting, but it wasn’t revolutionary.
“Cures for devastating diseases were created in laboratories much like this one at Angor City,” a tour guide told a group of visitors. They observed the medical bay, staring at the alien equipment, and I poked my head in. Their screens showcased complex diagrams, and I glanced into something that resembled a microscope, finding moving cells.
