What is it?
“A medal. And Alistair said there was nothing precious in here.”
Kaden read everything else. Postcards and handwritten poems, newspaper cuttings… He supposed it had all been precious once.
You’ll remember everything you read.
“You didn’t make me remember what you were looking at while I was asleep,” Kaden pointed out.
I didn’t want to swamp your brain. But tell me if you want to recall it and I’ll make it happen.
“Could I learn another language?”
Yes.
“Or become a nuclear physicist or brain surgeon or a volcanologist or—”
No. Just having expert knowledge wouldn’t enable you to work in those fields. Do you want to do any of those things?
“No. I’m happy doing what I do. What would you like to do?”
I’m not sure. Something that lets me be good, kind and fair like you. Qualities my planet lacked.
Kaden swallowed. “Not everyone on Earth is good, kind and fair, though most people try to be.”
In all 195 countries?
He chuckled. “Yes.”
How can I belong here? What makes you belong?
“When I was born, my parents registered my arrival and were given a birth certificate. Every child born in this country has to have their birth registered. And death for that matter. A birth certificate is legal proof of parenthood and needed for things like a passport, which we use to travel from one country to another. But not all countries issue birth certificates.”
We didn’t have them, but a record was kept of us from birth to death. Do I need a birth certificate?
“You can’t justgetone. You can apply for a replacement but you’d need to have been issued with one when you were born. We’ll have to think about how we get around that because if you can’t prove you belong here, they…”
They what? And who is they?
“Tonight, read about immigration, legal and illegal, and let me remember what you read.”
Okay.
“My head’s aching. I need a break. How would you like to go swimming?”
In water?
Kaden laughed. “Don’t you use water for leisure?”
Too precious. We use beams of light to rid ourselves of dirt and bacteria.
As they headed for the leisure centre, Joe asked him questions about what they were passing and Kaden answered in his head. When Joe wasn’t asking questions, Kaden told him about things that he thought Joe ought to know, such as how to cross a road, to look out for cyclists, especially those on electric bikes because you couldn’t hear them coming, and not to throw litter—an antisocial and selfish thing to do. How there were rules to follow, laws that protected everyone… In theory. He’d never considered how much there was to learn about everyday life, how much you needed to know just to fit in.
But the information flow was very one-way. Joe seemed reluctant to tell him anything more about life on his planet.
It’s no longer my home. Earth is. I’ll never go back.
Kaden paid for entry into the leisure centre and went looking for an empty changing cubicle.
