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?? CHAPTER 3 ??
The astronauts don't want to discuss aliens. I know they’re incredibly busy, but come on. Astronauts! Aliens! “You biologists and anthropologists can fuck around with that,” Faith says when we report to her. “My job is our ship.”
As far as they’re concerned, our mission was a failure. No first wave settlers, no engine; what good were we?
The doctors want nothing to do with them, either. They have enough going on tending to everyone’s injuries and keeping themselves safe.
They have enough on their minds due to the dead, too. Rick had succumbed during the hours that we were away. Bringing us up to five dead.
I can’t believe it myself. I feel like I just saw him. I was lying only feet away from him. He was just sleeping. He was breathing.
It drives home just how much of a disaster this crash was. How fragile our lives are.
“He was supposed to be with us,” Hope says, her freckled cheeks damp with tears. “He was supposed to meet the alien. With us.” She wipes her face, leaving a streak of dirt behind. She, Judd, and several others are digging five holes. Graves for our dead. I assist where I can, refilling their canteens and occasionally picking up a shovel myself. I’m not exactly in hard labor shape, though, and I get in the way more than I actually help.
Each of the five is a tremendous loss. We trained together for this journey, worked and lived and planned together. Their absence leaves a hole in whole mission. A hole in whole heart of the crew.
We gather that night for a burial service. Faith offers only a few brief words. “Claire, Martina, Paula, Teddy, and Rick are unlucky, unfortunate casualties in man’s quest to know the universe. They risked and ultimately gave their lives because of hope - hope for a better home, for a better future, for all of humanity. We will press on, and we’ll carry their names with us always.”
I hold Skye’s hand and wipe my tears away with my sleeve as their bodies disappear beneath the dirt.
?????
With so many injured, such a wide range of problems, and five dead, only Team C seems to care about the aliens at all. We gather in one of the tents the next morning. I’d barely gotten any sleep. My chest aches at the thought of going on without our crewmates. I know it must be done. I know we can and we will. But it’s so horrible, and so unfair.
And while staring up at the tent’s ceiling all night, I can’t get the image of that alien’s dark eyes out of my head. There was definitely intelligence there. Those strange sounds were words. Language.
The memory is clear, but so strange. The way he’d startled and backed away, wide-eyed? He’d seemed just as shocked to see me as I was to see him.
And. This is like, first contact, isn’t it. Humankind’s first intelligent alien encounter? At least as far as I know. Humans have been fleeing earth for a while now, and not every ship has sent back reports. Not every crew was heard from again.
“What if...” Skye trails off before she can even complete a thought.
“What about...” Judd does the same.
“Did any drones survive the crash?” Four pairs of eyes turn on me like I’m crazy. “What?” I ask. “Come on. I’m dying of curiosity. Aren’t you? If we could safely steal a closer look at them...”
Quinn shakes her head. “Faith will never let us play with the equipment. She’s determined to get back into the sky.”
“Not to mention it’s super fucking dangerous,” Hope says.
I grimace. “Is it, though?” They hadn’t attacked us. That man-alien was huge. He could have ripped our heads off if he’d wanted to, faster than we could ever fire at him, I’m sure of it. Instead, he’d jumped away and barked in the opposite direction. Maybe for his friends? Maybe for help? The thought makes me chuckle. The big scary alien, calling for rescue from us puny human women.
“I think we have to do something.” Finally, someone takes my side. Skye runs her fingers through her hair and looks pained to admit it, but she says, “I am curious, too. But I’m also thinking, what if those aliens come looking for us? Right? So, maybe we try to communicate? Or drive them away from the camp, somehow...”
“Or shoot them ourselves first,” Judd says. We all recoil at that. “Don’t act like I’m the crazy one here. I still have heard nothing to convince me they aren’t dangerous. ‘He didn’t immediately bite my head off’ doesn’t quite cut it. I’m sorry.”
I’m still stuck on Skye’s idea. Communication. What if we could communicate with them? Ask them to leave us alone? Or even better, ask for help? I’m assuming a lot about their intelligence, but I saw it. I saw his eyes. I’m sure there’s a way.
Plans start forming in my head.
“What if we leave them a note?” Now all the eyes on are me. “A drawing,” I go on quickly, my mouth running just a hair faster than my brain. As usual. Unfortunately. “Like, we could draw guns,” I say, gesturing at Judd, “To threaten them away. Or, or we could draw a picture of our camp, with a big X over it. To say ‘stay away.’ And like, frowning faces.”
“We could draw our ship,” Quinn says. “Illustrate how we crashed here.”
“Or a farm,” Hope says, falling back on her expertise. “Maybe they can show us some safe vegetation.”
Even Judd gets on board. “We will need to find water if we’re going to be stranded here for a while.”
