Page 83 of Evan and the Alpha

“Hang on a second,” Scott says as the three of us reach for our belts. He hits some buttons. “Let me turn the gravity on.”

There’s asnicksound, and anything that was starting to float slams back down. Scott punches some more buttons, then stands up. “All right,” he says, “now yell at me.”

I grit my teeth. I’m so mad, I can’t. I don’t have anything left but incoherent rage and even screaming isn’t enough to express it. I rip at the seat while Min unbuckles me.

“I didn’t want to leave,” I snarl at him finally. “I want to go back.”

Scott sighs again. “We’re up here now, and I can’t—”

“I want to know why no one reported to headquarters that he’s perfectly healthy,” Min says sharply.

Scott glances at her, then looks back at me. “Because he’s not okay,” he says finally. “He’s fucked in the head.”

“Hey!”

“He is not,” Min retorts. “The scans all came back normal. All the tests—everything. Your brother is in good health, physically, mentally.”

Scott grits his teeth. “He got himself into an abusive relationship with an alien, Min!”

“It’s not abusive!” I scream back.

“That’s what everyone says!” Scott thunders. “They all say that, even when there’s black eyes or he’s fucking choking you, when he’s trying to kill you—what next, oh, I shouldn’t have made him mad? Is that it, Evan?! You sound just like Mom!”

I wince. I forgot; Scott is that much older, that he remembers some of that shit. “It’s not like that!” I cry, feeling desperate. There’s no way any of them are gonna believe me, is there?

Scott waves a hand. “You said he was gonna hurt you if we let anyone else touch you.”

“I,” I start, then clamp my mouth shut. Yeah, I lied and now it’s come back to bite my ass.

Min looks at me, then back at Scott. It’s clear she’s not sure who to believe. “He was gonna get himself killed,” Scott huffs.

Ge-Ro looks at me, then squares his shoulders. “I think he’s actually at higher risk of dying now,” he says.

***

I’m numb. Totally numb. Ge-Ro just finished explaining to everyone—Scott, Mom, Dad, Min, headquarters, me—that Sobek and I are bonded. Mated for life. Inextricably intertwined, and if one of us kicks the bucket, the other one’s gonna go soon after.

And separation can kill us too, which is a great thing to find out when you’re stuck on a spaceship in orbit around the planet, waiting for the right moment to slingshot on a trajectory toward a space station that’s a few hundred lightyears away.

Despite Ge-Ro explaining all that—in pretty plain English too—headquarters still wants me brought in. They don’t think we should go back down to the planet, in case it was something in the atmosphere poisoning me. And they don’t want us to go pick up Sobek so that, y’know, I don’t die of a broken heart or something really goth teenage melodrama like that.

I have never, ever in my life been more aware of how little I matter to anyone in my life. Dad and Scott can’t be swayed. Mom isn’t arguing with them. Headquarters sees me as nothing more than a number, another experiment, another guy who lost his mind in space or something. They just want to learn from me, and they can do that just as well from a cadaver as a living human being.

In fact, it’ll be better for them if I’m dead. The dead can’t say no.

I honestly have no idea what I’m gonna do. The slingshot trajectory is in another three hours or so. Ge-Ro can’t convince them to land; headquarters said not to. Even if we could land, right now, we’re not anywhere near kel-Akurr, as the planet spins beneath us. kel-Akurr will be a lot closer in three hours, but I gotta figure out a way to get them to land.

I’m not sure I can. I feel like I’ve played my whole hand, all my cards. There’s only so much you can do when people think you’ve lost your mind, that you must have space poisoning or something. They think they need to protect me, help me, save me.

They’re the ones I need to be saved from. It’s them—they’re the monsters. They’ve always been the monsters.

And, just like always, I’m helpless against them.

Scott separates Ge-Ro and me. He sees me to my quarters. I don’t even try to fight him. I’m all out of ideas. Even if I fought him, broke free, where would I go? What would I do? It’s not like I can get off this fucking ship …

Maybe I could. Steal one of the escape pods. Make my way down the surface. But I don’t know how to fly. Darwin did all the flying, and I haven’t passed my licensing exams. Haven’t even really started the training.

I curl up on the bed and watch the stars cruise by, the void of space reflecting how empty I feel. The stars might be pinpricks of hope, but they’re faint and far apart. If I could somehow lace them together, then maybe, maybe—