Page 106 of Strange Lights

Carpathia. Carpathia.

I have to make peace with the idea they might not be able to save me. I hope desperately that they will. But regardless, I will love them until the end.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Calvin’s familiar voice says as he drops down next to me. He’s wearing a rock-climbing harness. His voice is steady, calming, but I can see the fear deep in his eyes.

“Here.” He holds out a carabiner on a short rope, the other end attached securely to his harness.

I register dimly that I’m somehow wearing a harness too. But I can’t speak; I can’t move. If I let go of this handhold, I know I’ll fall.

“Get in your lifeboat, Reggie,” Calvin says. He stretches his arm toward me, gesturing for me to take the carabiner.

“I can’t. I’ll fall,” I manage to say. No matter how much I want to, I can’t convince my fingers to unclench from my handhold and grab for the lifeline Calvin extends. But I don’t have to.

“Then I got you,” Calvin says, and leans forward, hooks the carabiner onto my harness, and wraps me in his arms. “I’ve got you, Reggie; you can let go.” Calvin. He’s no blind leap of faith; he’s a sure thing. Calvin waits patiently as I let go, pull myself away from the handhold I’ve been clinging to, and reach for him instead.

“Pull us up, Luca!” he shouts.

I glance up in surprise. We’re much closer to that open door than I thought.

Luca is perhaps fifteen feet above us, climbing rope in hand. I can see his face, expression grim, brows creased with worry. My sisters are at either shoulder, and even Eldi’s face from where she’s cradled securely in Orion’s arms peeks cautiously into the abyss.

I feel a tug, and then quite suddenly I’m on the ground, my soul yanked out of the void. I am back inside my own skin, gasping for breath, Luca and Calvin on either side of me, a warm hand holding tightly to each of mine. Orion is clutching Luca’s free hand and Eldi’s with the other. Meredith is holding hands with Calvin and Zara. Identical expressions of relief mingle with panic on all of their faces. They are a chain, a lifeline, an unbroken tether to pull me back to them. A wind whips up from the drop-off, reminding me we’re still inches from open air. But gone is the desire to leap, now that I know what falling feels like.

My family is all there. My mother isn’t.

46

Five More Minutes

The Winnebago cruises through space, toward the alien Mothership. It seemed the easiest option for first contact, once we could establish communication. It was a simpler feat than I expected once something akin to software updates came through for all the little robotic creatures⁠—troubleshooting the update was why the Mothership finally turned off cloaking to begin with. Wolff and Gemma are once again coordinating with us from afar, much to Wolff’s dismay.

The sight of the planet through the Winnebago window is not one I’m likely to forget anytime soon. I study the Mothership up close for the first time. The craft is massive, and vaguely saucer shaped with a gently sloping curve. It has countless solar sails on huge masts, jutting from all directions. They appear spindly, dwarfed by the ship, but the masts must be as thick as giant redwoods, and the sails themselves must be miles across. They flex elegantly, angling the Mothership to meet us. It seems alive when it moves, like a giant orchid mantis, with the delicate and beautiful membrane-like sails catching the light. I wonder if the whole thing is actually a living entity, just like the Winnebago and the vacuums, but far more ancient.

Winnie heads straight for an opening in the craft, glides inside a chamber full of bright light. The soft bump of her wheels as she lands and the return of gravity’s press signal our arrival. My possessions clatter to the ground around me, no longer weightless. I’m going to be searching for my displaced belongings for weeks. At least Doug secured the cactus, before it came to further harm, snaking out an appendage and reeling in the pot once we flew high enough that gravity started to lose hold.

I lead the way, stepping out of the Winnebago and onto an alien spacecraft. Calvin squeezes my hand reassuringly. Luca throws an arm over Orion’s shoulders and nudges my foot with his own, his eyes knowing as they fix on me, holding Eldi’s warm, heavy body close even as she cranes her neck to see.

But there’s hardly time to take it all in before the wall at the far end of the airlock rises. Eldi squirms in my arms. Her skin turns a smooth cool gray, her crest of spikes brushes against my neck, and she cuddles closer, her fingernails turning to claws as she carefully adjusts her grip on me. Orion steps forward at my side. He, too, shifts smoothly into his natural form. He’s quite a bit smaller than his human form. The top of his head is below my shoulder, though the flexing fan of spikes gives him another six inches when he stands upright. Calvin and Luca are close at one shoulder, Meredith and Zara at the other.

The beings that emerge from the airlock door look much like Eldi and Orion, but larger, more formidable. Though I trust that Orion and Eldi would never let us come to harm, these beings scratch at that primal part of my brain where fear is located. Eldi really still is in that adorable toddler stage, little potbelly and baby fat in her cheeks even in this form, whereas these beings are solid, lean muscle and strength. There are at least a dozen of them, walking on all fours with a rangy grace. They would tower over us if they stood upright on their back legs. As it is, they are at eye level, spikes not included.

Flashes of metal catch my eye. The Helpers. They are everywhere in a plethora of shapes and are instantly recognizable as alien, having made no effort to disguise themselves as human-made technology. The being at the head of the formation cautiously walks forward alone. I recognize it’s a Helper attached to them, a being, not a mask. Spread flat across half their face, the Helper is almost armor-like, delicate appendages extended, various parts moving and flashing. It’s rather like an elaborate sci-fi masquerade mask, a beautiful symbiosis. The being eyes Eldi in my arms, Orion at my side. Luca shifts unconsciously, slides ever so slightly into a protective stance. I’m not sure he even realizes he does it. Calvin drops my hand and steps forward to whisper something in Luca’s ear, and he relaxes.

“Hello,” I say hesitantly. Someone has to break the silence.

The leader is close enough to reach out and touch, cocking their head curiously at Eldi and me. They say something then, in their language. Orion answers in the same language, gesturing, words flowing out in a fast stream. Eldi chirrups occasionally from her perch in my arms.

The being rises to their full height, and I have to resist taking a step back. But all they do is wrap Orion in a hug, another thing that transcends planets, apparently. I can’t understand the words, but I can decipher the sentiment.

“I’m sorry. But we are here now, and we are proud of you.”

Orion shifts suddenly back to human form, then speaks in English. “This is Reggie, Eldi’s caretaker. And please tell them what name to call you.”

The being in front of me shifts into a strange halfway form, the Helper seamlessly adjusting its hold. A form now human enough to speak our language, but still with those clawed hands, a tail and spikes. “You may call me Astra,” the being says after a moment’s pause, during which the Helper stretched across their face chirrups and lights up, and the two seem to have a quiet conversation. “She says you named her Eldi. Have cared for her, are the only parent she knows. That when she was separated from her brother, Orion, that you took her in. And Orion says that you love her as fiercely as the parents who died for her.”

“She’s mine,” I say reflexively. “And I’m hers. I mean, as much as any two creatures can belong to each other.”

“We mean your planet, your people, no harm. We came for our children and apologize for the delay. Do you know where more of our children are? Communication with the Helpers has been difficult across such a vast distance, and there were many spots to search along the way. It has taken us longer than anticipated to find your planet. Do you know how many children survived the journey here?”