Alienated

Chapter Eighteen

Aelyx reached out and quickly silenced his alarm before it woke Cara or her parents. Seconds later, his com-sphere buzzed to announce his scheduled check-in with Syrine and Eron, and he stumbled out of bed toward the dresser to retrieve it. While rifling through the top drawer, he noticed his mug of tea from yesterday, still half filled and rest­ing beside his mirror. An automatic grin curved his lips when he whispered “Elire” and set the sphere on his nightstand.

“What are you smiling at?” Instead of two fingers, Syrine greeted him with folded arms and a scowl.

Aelyx stretched and yawned, feigning innocence. “Noth­ing. Where’s Eron?” Usually his image appeared in tandem with Syrine’s.

“In China with his brother,” she sneered.

“You know what I mean.”

“He won’t join the conversation.” Her brows lowered. “Not while I’m part of it.”

Aelyx had a good idea what had caused the argument between his roommates, but he asked anyway. “What happened?”

Syrine rolled her eyes, something he’d never seen her do until she came to Earth. “He’s punishing me because I won’t uproot my sh’alear. He’s completely lost his mind.” Then she tipped her head and studied him. “You didn’t uproot yours, right? Eron said you promised to consider it.”

“No,” he said. “Nothing’s changed.” Which was a lie. Yesterday had changed everything.

Reflexively, his gaze darted to the wall that separated him from Cara. She trusted him; all the while, he was destroying any hope of a future between their worlds. Maybe Eron was right. Maybe Aelyx should uproot his sh’alear. He honestly didn’t know anymore. In eighteen years, he’d never felt so conflicted, his thoughts always circling back to the same basic question: would mankind harm the future of L’eihr more than help it?

“That wasn’t a very convincing no,” Syrine said. “Please tell me that flame-haired dolt isn’t draining your wits.”

Aelyx’s spine went rigid, and he ordered, “Watch your tongue!”

Syrine’s mouth dropped into an oval. “Why? Because I implied you could be swayed by a human, or because I insulted yours?”

“Cara’s not a dolt. She’s brilliant and compassionate and—”

“Bleeding Mother.” Syrine gasped and pointed an accus­ing finger at him. “You want to fash her!”

Aelyx couldn’t deny the statement, so he ignored it. “We’re friends. She’s loyal and I trust her.”

Syrine didn’t seem to like that. “Just how much do you trust her?”

“Enough to tell her about the iphal.”

At his words, Syrine’s face went slack. Her eyes widened and she gaped like a dying fish. It took three tries for her to force out the words, and then Aelyx wished she’d remained mute. “You idiot! What if she puts it on her blog? The whole world will know in an instant, then The Way will punish us all!”

“Cara would never do that. She promised.”

“I don’t trust her!” Syrine shouted. “And the fact that you told her something so sensitive proves you can’t be trusted, either!”

“You don’t know Cara like I do. She’s—”

“This is treason!”

“Don’t be ridicu—”

“You’ve betrayed us!”

Before he had a chance to defend himself, Syrine shut down her sphere. He tried reaching her several times, but she refused to answer.

Spectacular. Syrine wasn’t speaking to him, and Eron wasn’t speaking to her. They were fostering more drama than the humans at Midtown High. Since arriving on this planet, they’d slowly come to embody the same traits that had always repulsed them. The Elders had hoped to restore their own emotions by living among humans, but for the clones, who didn’t suffer the same malaise, would they transform into what they hated most?

Just then, his sphere summoned him with a distinct fre­quency that indicated the ambassador had finally received his message. Aelyx took a deep breath and attempted to slow his pulse before whispering his passkey.

Stepha’s image flickered to life on the bedside table. He barely lifted two fingers, as if he couldn’t spare the energy to complete the gesture. “How can I help you, brother?”

“I’ve discovered a problem with the water,” Aelyx said. “Each time I collect a sample, I find plant life reproducing at an unnatural rate.”

“That’s not possible,” Stepha informed him. “I think you mean Eron has found plant contaminants in his samples.”

Aelyx was confused. The ambassador didn’t seem shocked by the anomaly, only that Aelyx had discovered it instead of Eron. “Actually, both our findings are similar. Syrine con­firmed it as well.”

In a rare display of emotion, Stepha’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You’re certain?”

“Absolutely. I repeated the analysis three times because I didn’t believe the original results.”

“Interesting,” Stepha said, sounding anything but inter­ested. “This means the contamination is more widespread than we thought.”

“So humans are aware?” If so, why hadn’t Aelyx heard of this before?

“Not the general population. This is a closely guarded secret, so keep your findings private.” When Aelyx nodded, Stepha continued in his sleepy monotone. “The World Trade Organization requested our assistance last year. Human scien­tists rushed to begin experimenting with our nanotechnology without exploring the possible consequences, and they’ve tainted some of the water supply with growth particles.”

“What kind of growth particles?”

“They’d hoped to create a fertilizer to foster crop growth in harsh climates. Their intentions were pure, if naive. The nanoparticles seeped into underground rivers and eventually the Pacific Ocean, causing an explosion in plant growth.”

“But if the water in Midtown is infected, that means . . .” Aelyx turned on the light and grabbed his World Studies textbook, then flipped to the world map in the back. “The particles have reached the Atlantic Ocean and the Saint Lawrence River.”

Stepha nodded in confirmation. “It’s not yet at the chronic stage, but it is increasing exponentially. Within a decade, we estimate the contamination of all water supplies and the destruction of most aquatic life-forms.”

“But that would mean . . .” Aelyx hated to say it aloud.

“Eventually, Earth will lose the ability to sustain life at all.”

Aelyx could easily imagine the chain reaction that would end the planet. It took surprisingly little to destroy an ecosystem. Thickening plant life would block sunlight and deoxygenize the water, and once the chemical makeup changed, it was only a matter of time before the water became unfit for consumption. Rainfall wouldn’t generate enough to support all of Earth’s life-forms, and humans would die painfully, battling for whatever drops remained.

“But we can correct the problem,” Aelyx said. Ironically, a relative of the sh’alear he’d planted would neutralize the growth particles, halting their reproduction.

“Yes, and we will.” Stepha’s next words nearly stopped Aelyx’s heart. “If we approve the alliance.”

“If?” Aelyx asked, hoping he’d misunderstood the ambas­sador. “That sounds conditional.”

“Remember when I told you humans and L’eihrs will both benefit when our societies merge? I was referring to this.”

Aelyx’s whole body flashed hot and suddenly cold. Sacred Mother. The alliance—the one he and his peers had inten­tionally sabotaged—was the key to Earth’s survival?

“The Way would allow humans to perish?” It couldn’t be true. “Once they learn what’s happening, wars will erupt. Millions of innocents will die, long before the planet does.”

With all the emotion of a stone, Stepha answered, “If we cannot coexist peacefully, they aren’t worth saving.”

Lifting his fingers in an abrupt farewell greeting, Aelyx shut down his sphere and swallowed against the bile rising in his throat.

Oh, gods, what had he done? Bill, Eileen, little Ashley, and Cara—his Elire. He’d sentenced them to a horrific death.

With trembling fingers, he lifted the sphere to his lips and summoned Eron and Syrine, praying they’d answer the call and uproot their sh’alear seedlings at once. There had to be a way to undo the damage they’d caused. Any other outcome was unthinkable.

Cara’s screeching alarm clock ripped her into consciousness, but instead of slapping the snooze button, she bounced out of bed and reached for the ceiling, rising onto her toes to stretch. Sweeping aside her lace curtain, she gazed through the frosty window at the forest in the distance, where steady rain fell in sheets and a bluster of wind tossed slick, wet leaves through the air. She twirled in place and smiled. What a beautiful morning.

Holding two fingers against her lips, she sighed, remem­bering how incredible Aelyx’s mouth had felt against hers yesterday . . . and wondering when he’d kiss her again. They hadn’t exactly talked about it, but she was pretty sure they were a couple now.

After dressing in her warmest sweater and jeans, she prac­tically skipped into the kitchen and sat beside Dad at the table. “Oh, chocolate chip pancakes!” She heaped three onto her plate and drizzled them with melted peanut butter.

“You’re in a good mood today.” Mom smiled over the top of her coffee mug.

“Yeah, guess I am.”

Dad glanced up from the newspaper and grinned to him­self. “Think Satan wants to borrow my snowblower?” When nobody laughed, he added, “Get it? Hell’s frozen over.”

“The only thing worse than a bad joke,” Cara said, “is having it explained.”

With a grunt and a shrug, he went back to reading.

Cara licked a smudge of chocolate from the corner of her mouth. “Can I borrow the car today, Mom? We’ll get soaked if we walk—”

“Hmph,” Dad interrupted. “When I was a boy—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cara interrupted back. “You walked to school naked in the snow or something. So can I?”

“I’m leading story time at the library.” Mom grabbed another pancake and rolled it up like a burrito. “How about I drop you off instead?”

Abruptly, Dad plunked his mug on the table and folded the newspaper in half. “Listen to this.” His cheeks darkened as he read aloud, “In response to Cara Sweeney’s proposed L’awareness Day and the nearly unanimous defeat of the Senate bill known as the L’eihr Expulsion Act, HALO leader Isaac Richards has called for an international protest, ask­ing HALO members to assemble in Manhattan, Midtown, Bordeaux, and Lanzhou to demand the revocation of L’eihr visas and end the cultural exchange. ‘They’re poisoning our water and killing our crops,’ Richards said. ‘What’s next, our children?’”

“Great,” Cara said around the food in her mouth. “Just what we need—more crazycake protesters. Why’re they sur­prised the bill failed? The president would give her right boob for this alliance.”

“Pepper!” Mom snorted, gently smacking Cara’s arm.

“You know she would,” Cara argued. “Probably the left one, too. And an ovary.”

“Well,” Dad said, “it says here the senator from Arizona’s already writing another bill just like it.”

Mom pointed her rolled-up pancake at him. “Does it say how many people are coming or where they plan to march?”

“No.” Dad continued to scan the article. “I’ll bet we get a few thousand, probably more.” He paused for a moment and took Mom’s hand. “I wouldn’t worry. The military’s not gonna let anything happen to Aelyx. I’m sure they’ll send extra troops.”

Mom nodded in agreement and glanced at Cara. “Why don’t you see if Aelyx is finished with breakfast? We should go soon.”

“Breakfast? I thought he was getting dressed.”

“He wanted to eat in his room today.” Mom shimmied into her coat. “I think he overslept.”

Just as Cara stood, Aelyx strode in wearing his jacket. He kept his eyes locked on a copy of Advanced Biomaterials while slinging his book bag over one shoulder. When they loaded into the car, he took the front passenger seat instead of sit­ting in the back with her, then read his book silently for the duration of the ride. After a quick “thank you” to her mother, he jogged ahead of her into the school while Cara ran to catch up.

“You okay?” She tried to lean against him while they walked to homeroom, but he veered off to the side.

“I’m fine.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?” Grabbing his sleeve, she stopped him in the middle of the crowded hall. “Are you mad? You know, about yesterday?”

Aelyx heaved a sigh and finally turned to face her, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m not angry.”

“So we’re all right?”

“Yes, Cah-ra. Why wouldn’t we be?”

Not Elire. Cara. All the air disappeared from her lungs. She knew a brush-off when she saw one. That sick, swelling feeling returned, the one she’d felt when Tori stabbed her in the back, but even though tears stung her eyelids, she forced them away. She would not cry over this. Not while he was watching.

Instead of embarrassing herself any further, she turned on her heel and gave him the space he obviously wanted.

Several hours later, after mindlessly scanning her Dartmouth application for the fifth time, Cara gave up and tried to get a head start on tomorrow’s math assignment. When she couldn’t focus on that, either, she opened her copy of Jane Eyre, hoping to escape thoughts of Aelyx. But no matter what she did, she couldn’t quit fixating on him.

With a sigh, Cara glanced around the classroom. Most of the students hunched dutifully over the same history exam she’d finished half an hour ago. The clock on the wall read 11:37, just three minutes later than the last time she’d checked. The day felt so long without Aelyx to distract her. Sliding her gaze to the side, she watched him pretend to read his biomaterials textbook. Although he appeared thoroughly absorbed, he hadn’t turned a page in ten minutes.

When the bell finally rang, she asked Blake to escort her to the computer lab and then take Aelyx to the cafeteria. She needed to update her blog and, quite frankly, she couldn’t take any more of the silent treatment.

“We’ll stay with you,” Aelyx insisted. “I’m not hungry anyway.”

“Then maybe you should hang out in the library,” she retorted. “And read.”

In true rejectionist fashion, he ignored her, following along with Blake until she reached the lab and settled at the end of a vacant row. “Pull up a chair.” If you can stand to get that close. “I need a random fact for Trivial Wednesday.” He sat at the same workstation but kept twelve inches between them and leaned away like she smelled bad. “How do L’eihrs say good-bye?”

“We touch the side of the throat with our first two fingers.”

Wow, they sure had a fixation with throats. “To take each other’s pulse, like—” You did to me yesterday? She cut herself off just in time.

“Oh.” He punctuated the awkward silence with a fake cough. “No, just a simple touch and release.”

The central blog site came up, and she entered her login and password. “That’s all I need,” she said in a cool voice. “You can go.”

“I’ll wait.”

What was his deal? He’d snubbed her, so why was he act­ing like a stage-five dinger? “There’s no reas—”

An error message appeared on the computer screen. At first, she thought she’d entered the wrong password, but upon closer inspection, she found karma had decided to gut-punch her when she was already down. What had she done to deserve this?

“Damn it.” She hadn’t violated anything!

“What’s wrong?” Aelyx leaned one precious inch in her direction to read the screen.

“They killed my blog!” Nearly a million followers—poof, gone, just like that.

“Yow.” Blake joined the pity party, peering over her shoulder. “What’d you do?”

“Nothing.”

She hadn’t posted about the L’eihrs’ weaponry, population size, or anything they might not want to divulge publicly, so the government wouldn’t have shut her down. All she’d discussed was L’eihr customs, mutations, and breeding-related advances. That wasn’t a big deal, was it?

Apparently someone thought so, and she had no way of finding out who.