Now, only Sam’s mental space persisted. A whirring noise started up, like a projector at a movie theater. Images flickered by, and he imagined a miniature version of himself sitting in a seat near the front, watching them intently. At first, they went by so quickly he could barely distinguish them. Gradually they slowed down, and recognizable scenes came into focus. He could tell they were all from his perspective, though everything looked bigger and high above. Memories from his childhood.

He saw toys, trees, the sky. He scarfed down food, ran in the yard, and caressed his baby sister. Now as an adult, he could no longer actively recall living this, but the images resonated too much to be anything but true.

A young-looking version of his mother leaned her face close to his, nuzzling his nose. Her forehead creased with worry as she examined a cut on his knee. She smiled with joy as the two baked cupcakes together, getting flour everywhere. Sam clenched his hands. He missed that smile so much.

A male face peeked around the corner into the kitchen, brown eyes full of warmth. It took Sam a second to recognize who it was. His father.

It had been years since he’d even looked at his father’s picture. Now he appeared as a real person again, giving him and Nadia big hugs and his mother a peck on the cheek. Sam’s mouth turned dry, and a familiar pain flooded him. As he’d done many times growing up, he stuffed his emotions down as brutally as he could. The pace of the images seemed to respond to him, speeding by, and his perspective in the images grew taller. No further memories including his father surfaced.

Now in middle school, Sam sat down at the table for a home-cooked meal, surrounded by the bustle of aunts, uncles, and family friends. He looked out the window of their cousin’s house, where they now stayed. A maple tree stood by itself in the yard, covered in orange leaves. He went to find his mother to ask for a puppy but found her napping on the couch. He cleaned the dishes and read a book to his sister.

His uncle lost his job. His mother, his sister, and Sam packed the car and moved to a faraway city, where his mom found employment. She sat over a pail of dirty water, washing her worn-out nurse’s uniform. Her face grew haggard with deep lines. Sam tried to help, but she sent him outside, urging him to play with the neighborhood kids.

Sam picked up a basketball for the first time. He practiced every day after completing his chores, pouring himself into getting better and letting his mind forget the worries of the day.

One afternoon, Sam went to pick Nadia up from school; the two always walked home together. She stood in the playground, facing toward an older, taller girl. Nadia lifted her chin and walked by, but at the last second, the other girl extended her leg to trip her. Sam shouted a warning and ran to intervene, but before he got there, Nadia had deftly jumped back. She stepped forward and pushed the girl down, who began to cry. The teachers and other students nearby ran over and tended to Nadia. The other girl was left on her own.

Sam got his first job, working at a grocery store during weekends. He practiced basketball daily, got decent grades, and graduated from high school. He received an athletic scholarship from the local state university.

When the team chose him as captain, they threw him a party. He chatted with all the different players and inevitably vowed to each that they’d win every game that season and then make the state championship. He got roped into one drinking game but ducked out of the others. Later, he snuck out the back and walked home, soaking in the crisp fall air. The next morning, he woke up early and made breakfast. He arrived first to their team practice.

Taking in his whole life at once, Sam felt a level of pride that he hadn’t for a long time, not since his mother’s diagnosis and the difficulties he’d faced. His family had kept finding ways to survive, to prevail even. Those challenges had given him purpose. Value. Proof that he was needed and loved and could do right by others.

The images slowed and stopped. The projector screen turned off.

#

Emotional maturity test complete. Results of test will be assessed by Proctor. Evaluation is ending. Subject will return to original state.

Sam opened his eyes and blinked rapidly as the white walls came into view. Having a physical body again came as a shock, and he rapidly realized that he hadn’t experienced any of the normal bodily functions while taking the exam. He was hungry and tired and needed to use the restroom.

Tar still stood in the room, but now there were two of him.

The second Tar turned around, and Sam was relieved to see it was somebody different. He was equally alarmed though at meeting another Xarlogic, especially without any warning. Nobody had seen a second one before. Half of the people out there believed Tar was the only alien in existence and had come to mess around with humanity because he had nothing better to do.

Tar beamed at him. “You’ve passed! Well done. I knew you would. I’m thrilled on your behalf.”

Sam shuddered, his mind a fragmented mess as it tried to make sense of the experience. He expected plenty of weird dreams that night. “Thank you, I guess? I know it wasn’t real, but I still feel like a piece of gum stuck to the sidewalk.”

“Nothing to be worried about, isn’t that right, Proctor Mim?”

The other Xarlogic nodded solemnly, appearing similar to Tar but with softer features and skin a bluer tint. “A good night of sleep should be sufficient to recover.”

“It would have been helpful if you’d prepared us more. How was I to expect I’d need to fight a giant ghost man-cow?” The question prompted Sam to hold out his hands in front of him. They trembled from exhaustion, but as he stared at them, he glimpsed a thin thread of energy wrapping itself around his right index finger. Good. That better not have been for nothing.

The two Xarlogics exchanged a glance. Tar lifted a finely haired eyebrow. “Proper assessment requires pushing subjects to their breaking point. Foreknowledge would dilute the results.”

Sam didn’t have the energy to protest further. “How are Nadia and Win? Are they okay? What happens if you don’t pass?”

Mim glanced at Tar, who nodded for her to proceed. “They’ve not yet completed their exams, but both should be wrapping up any minute now. Last I checked, they are each on their way to passing. Those who fail suffer no serious consequences, but we are forced to erase their memories of the test and the knowledge they’ve gained from it. Memory erasure can be an inexact art. Regrettably, though, they’d be at risk of hurting themselves if they returned home with any lingering understanding of using aether.”

Sam blanched, wondering whether the threat of memory wipe would reemerge in his future interactions with the Xarlogics. The risk being, he’d never know if so. The aliens possessed a mastery of worlds he knew nothing about, and Sam would always be at a disadvantage when dealing with him.

Tar waved his hand dismissively. “On to happier subjects. You, my dear Sam, to display such control of aether already, have the makings of a genuine prodigy! I’m so pleased.”

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The praise pleased Sam, but the shift in Tar’s demeanor from before the exam needled him. “Did something change? Earlier, I got the sense you didn’t have a lot of confidence in me.”

Tar gave him an appraising glance. “Yes, well, the issue was, you lacked confidence in you. Aether is a delicate beast. To handle it correctly, you need to be in the right state of mind or you’ll do more harm than good. I told you what you needed to hear.”

Sam flushed from embarrassment. He’d walked into that one. Even as he’d wondered whether Tar would coach him, the alien had already gone ahead and done so. You need to remember this, Sam. Tar may be an alien, but he understands people well. “Okay, I see what you mean then. So, what exactly is aether? And steps? And ‘the path’?”

Tar pointed at Mim. “She’ll teach you all about it. The most direct explanation is that our universe is suffused with ambient energy, which we call aether. All living things can convert aether into active energy, but doing so requires . . . hmm, what is the word humans use? Oh, yes, enlightenment. Trust me, it sounds just as grandiose in my language.”

“And so certain people are better at using it? Something about a sense?”

Tar’s smile sharpened. “Exactly. Think of aether sense as your natural aptitude. Something you’re born with. Those I recruit all need to have a certain level, and you and your sister are at the high end of the range.”

Nadia, too? Sam couldn’t deny that being naturally talented at using aether excited him, and even better if that extended to his sister as well. It meant an even stronger chance that they would go far, help their mother, and maybe even earn the ability to give to those in need. At the same time, it was obvious Tar had already developed high expectations for them. His patience would run thin if they didn’t perform well. “In a practical sense, what does that mean?”

“That your next few months will be tough but potentially highly rewarding. For now, let’s get you and your associates fed so we can discuss what comes next.”

Sam hid his irritation at Tar’s ducking of the question and allowed himself to be escorted out of the room. His back itched, or was it his foot? Somewhere he couldn’t quite reach. His weary mind couldn’t figure it out and relegated it to his subconscious.

#

The sun had set by the time Sam, Nadia, and Win emerged outside again and began to make their way home. Coming out of the exam, Win and Nadia had looked as shell-shocked as he had. Other than checking that they were okay, Sam didn’t have the chance to ask them any questions. Tar tried to keep them, insisting they sign contracts that night. Win repeatedly demurred on their behalf, for which Sam was grateful, given the leverage Tar had accrued over him and Nadia. Following a pledge to come back the next day, they escaped.

The bus home had been full, requiring the three to stay silent. Sam attempted to use the respite to gather his thoughts, but they remained a confused jumble. When they stood at the dark intersection where Win would split off, Sam wasn’t sure what to say.

Not surprisingly, Nadia broke the silence. “So now that we can use aether, are we superheroes?” She playfully brushed off her shoulders.

Some of Sam’s tension released. He laughed and shrugged. “Superhero feels like a loaded term.”

Win chuckled. “Right, we can’t use that word until we’re ready to face supervillains. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Nadia looked wistfully at the night sky. “Well, we’re something now. Did you feel it too? Like the world bent to my will.”

Sam bit his lip. “I wonder. I’m not sure the world wasn’t bending me.”

“Tar said we’d all experience it differently, depending on our affinities,” Win said.

Sam crossed his arms. “Right. Affinities. Another area that we have to wait to understand. We’ll have so much to learn. We really don’t know what we’re getting into.”

Nadia punched him in the arm. “Sam, what’s with the negativity? Just take a minute to enjoy the moment. Our lives may have just changed forever.”

Her words had the opposite of their intended effect. Sam’s shoulders sagged. “Exactly. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Nadia squinted at him. “Oh, come on, what happened? You were pretty gung ho before.”

Sam gulped, trying to find the right words. “I started thinking about everything that happened during the exam. That last part, the memory probe, dug in deep. I hate how my mind was ripe for the plucking. It makes me wonder what exactly Xarlogics are capable of.”

He hadn’t thought to confront Tar about this in the immediate aftermath of the exam, and now he regretted it. Why exactly was it necessary to drudge up the memories that he’d purposefully buried away? Nor did he love the implications of being tested for emotional maturity. What did Tar need with such information?

Nadia’s face scrunched up. “Huh, I don’t remember that part of the test. Win?”

Win shook his head. “Me neither. That does sound concerning.”

Sam swallowed. More evidence of Tar treating him differently, making him more squeamish. He changed the topic though, having no desire to recount the details in full. “Well, what about the combat test? I’m not sure how I didn’t end up completely flattened. If that’s a taste of what’s to come, we’ll have our hands full.”

“I mean, I’m right there with you, but wasn’t it a rush when you figured out how to win? When using aether made the difference? I knew then that I’m meant to be able to do this.” Nadia cupped a fist with her other hand.

Sam looked at her closely. She was hooked already. He turned to Win. “How about you?”

“I took martial arts classes as a kid. I wasn’t great at hitting things but could weave and dodge fairly well. During the exam, I darted around, way faster than I’ve ever gone before. It took some time, but I figured out a way to use aether to my advantage. It was like a baptism by fire.” Win rubbed his neck. “It was . . . exhilarating.”

Sam knew what they meant. When he beat Auroch, he’d felt on top of the world. That was, until . . . What was he thinking? Oh, another question begged to be asked. “And Tar? Can we put our future in his hands?”

Win sucked in a breath. “It’s clear he has an agenda. We’ll need to be on our toes, see if we can’t figure out what he has planned.”

Nadia looked back in the direction they’d come from, toward downtown. “He’s not all-powerful. Why would he need us then? Give it enough time, and we’ll become strong enough that we can handle him.”

Sam wanted to argue with them, to say they were being naïve, but it seemed pointless. Their minds were made up. The bulb of the streetlamp flickered above them, barely keeping the shadows at bay. This day, once inconceivable, would end, and a page would be turned.

Win put a hand on his shoulder. “Decide what’s best for you. If you choose to stay here, we’d accept that. Right, Nadia?”

The white of Nadia’s eyes contrasted with the night that enveloped them. “I love you and I always will. Pick the way forward that feels right to you. As for me, I see now where I want to go.”

#

Sam lay awake in his bed. Moonlight streamed through a gap in the curtains. His sister slumbered away in her bed in the other corner.

Any efforts to sleep were stymied by the deluge of thoughts swirling in his mind. The calculus in front of him seemed clear. He could put the past twenty-four hours aside, act as if nothing had happened, and proceed with his life as planned. He’d plead his case to retake his final. He was loath to do so, but he could pull out the sick mother card. In a few months, he’d start his accountant job, earn a regular income, and pay off the debt his family had accumulated. He’d do everything possible to make sure his mother lived comfortably. Hell, eventually he’d try dating again, meet somebody, settle down, and start a family of his own. He’d live a stable and uneventful life and wouldn’t let anybody down. Nobody could accuse him of committing the same sins as those who came before him. Such as his father.

Pressure applied to the sides of his head, marking the onset of a stress headache. He recognized what that meant. When you tried to suppress your innermost desires, your body fought back. In his bones, he knew he’d already made up his mind.

In his heart, he yearned for adventure, to learn how to properly use aether, to try to reach the next step, whatever that meant. He hoped to meet a third Xarlogic, or any of the other many alien species out and about in their vast galaxy. He wanted to be part of a handful of humans to see Earth from space. And if Nadia and Win were determined to join Tar, his place was alongside them, making sure they kept their guards up.

Sam hadn’t been the one to open the door to a different future. An extraterrestrial being had descended to Earth and opened it for him. He imagined lifting his foot and crossing the threshold.

#

Tar and Mim were alone, the store closed and dark except for a soft light on Tar’s desk.

Tar crackled his knuckles. “What a triumph. Does the assessment provide confirmation?” He felt relief at being able to speak in his own language again. Such an efficient use of syllables. Speaking English required so much of the tongue. It was indecorous.

Mim consulted her electronic pad. “The assessment validates that the brother demonstrates a strong foundation for ascension. The ideal mix of emotional vulnerability, inner resolve, and an innate grasp of aether mechanics. The sister’s affinity makes her a more difficult case to shepherd, though with exceptional possible future utility. I’ve put together alternating plans with varying degrees of probability for success.”

Tar leaned over the desk. “Tell me everything.”

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