After he informed the other two of his decision, Sam went with Nadia to meet Win first thing the next morning, so they could travel to Tar’s downtown office together. The intersection from the night before basked in the early sun.
Once back in Tar’s uncomfortable chair, Sam scanned through the contract quickly, having already opted to trust Win to do the real examination. Win had apparently spent most of the night reading through online treatises on contracting with aliens, a newly budding interest of the world’s lawyers. Most advised not to do it. Oh, well.
Win folded his hands together. “I believe all of the terms included are acceptable. Thank you as well for agreeing to provide transport back to Earth should we choose to withdraw from the training program. But I still have what I believe is an important question to ask, Editor Tar.”
Tar gave a closed-lip smile. “Of course, please ask away.”
“Given our henceforth”—Nice, Win—“departure from Earth, what makes these contracts enforceable?”
“A valid and important inquiry. To attest to your wonderful governments that I will bring you, their citizens, back home safely, I have provided them with certain collateral. The nature of which I cannot disclose, but suffice to say, I will be plenty motivated not to abscond with any humans.”
Win looked at Sam and Nadia and made a minute shrug. Sam shared the sentiment. No matter what reassurances Tar made, or what documents they signed, once they left Earth, they’d be under his thumb. To believe otherwise would be foolish.
Yesterday, Sam had fretted. Today, he didn’t care. He’d made his choice. Sam pinched himself for good measure—yep, not some bizarre dream—and signed the contract with a flourish.
When he returned home, a box of the promised medicine sat in front of the door. Tar had insisted on immediate delivery as a sign of good faith. The two brought the box inside, avoiding their mother’s questioning look, and retreated to their room.
Sam shook his arms out. “So we’re doing this, huh?”
Nadia nodded firmly. “She’ll understand. She wants what’s best for us.”
“That just makes it worse,” Sam muttered. “I already feel guilty leaving her behind as it is.”
“All the more reason to rip the Band-Aid off. You’ve got the goods?” Nadia asked.
Sam placed one of the cinnamon rolls they’d bought on the way back on a plate. His mother’s favorite. They stepped into her room. Sara sat upright in her bed, her hands folded in front of her and her eyes trained on them.
“How do you feel, Ma?” Sam asked.
“I feel like my kids are about to tell me they got home late last night after spending hours with a mysterious alien. What will the neighbors think?” Her smile twitched with humor, but her eyes shone with a hint of sadness.
Sam chuckled. “About that . . .” He launched into the explanation that he and Nadia had prepared, with Nadia jumping in as needed. “So that about sums it up, Ma. We’d be spending a few months training with the Editor on his space station and then we’ll participate in an intergalactic competition. If we do well, we earn rewards and then come back home.”
Throughout, Sara’s reaction gave nothing away, and Sam nervously awaited her response. She nibbled on the cinnamon bun. “Exactly how dangerous will it be?”
Sam ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Maybe a little? The Editor has been a bit stingy with details. But he said the competition is tightly regulated, and there’s an agreement that causing permanent injury is ‘distasteful.’”
Instead of acting reassured, his mother closed her eyes. Whoops.
Nadia reached to clasp her hands. “Ma, you don’t need to worry. The Editor is giving us access to some, uh, special technology that will help us. It’s obvious that all of this is a big deal to him. He’s not going to let anything happen to us.”
Sam looked at her sharply. We can’t make that guarantee. Nadia gave him a helpless shrug.
Sara opened her eyes, which glistened with unshed tears. “Forgive me. I’m actually very happy. It’s difficult to know what to make of all this, but I have faith in you both. You’ll do what’s right. I . . . I’ll just miss you both so much. The three of us have always been together.”
Part of the plan involved their Aunt Jana traveling to look after her for a week or so. Once she was strong enough to travel, the two would go together to Aunt Jana’s home, where his mother would stay while they were gone.
Seeing his mother be vulnerable made Sam’s chest ache. “It’s not permanent. We’ll visit as soon as we’re allowed to. Trust me, Ma. And we’ll be able to write emails to you and send pictures.”
Sara nodded slowly. “Of course, of course. I’ll hold you to that. Well, as much as I don’t want to let either of you go, I give you my blessing. I ask though that you make me a promise. Look after each other. Be safe. And—” Her voice cracked. “Come home to me, okay?”
Sam and Nadia made eye contact before the latter looked off in the distance, hiding a tear of her own. Sam sat down at the end of the bed and put a hand on the blanket covering his mother’s legs. “I promise you, Ma. You’ll see us again soon.”
#
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Sam packed (excruciatingly, he only had room for three pairs of shoes), texted friends to let them know he’d be gone for a while, and took a long last look at the only planet he’d ever known. Sam informed the accounting firm he’d chosen to pursue a “new, exciting venture” presented to him, as well as submitted a request to his college for a one-year break. He hoped that by that time, he’d have clarity on whether “space adventurer” would turn into a full-time gig.
Suitcases in tow, he and Nadia joined Win for the familiar bus ride into the city. They’d been given instructions to go to the municipal airport, which Tar had commandeered as a temporary spaceport. The small passenger terminal appeared deserted, save for a single Xarlogic standing out front. Mim.
She wasted no time on small talk, instead gesturing them to the tarmac. They walked for a bit before reaching the mountain-sized hangar that dominated the opposite end. Mim prodded a touchpad and the massive doors of the hangar slid open with a groan.
A crimson-colored, spherical object came into view, about the size of a large yacht. Extensions protruded from both the top and the bottom, flanked by antennae. A few spindly legs kept the object standing, and a ramp extended from its underside to the ground. Steam escaped from the belly of the vessel, obscuring the top of the ramp. Sam gaped. It was like a comic book scene come to life.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Win was the first to recover. “Is that a flying saucer?”
Mim made a funny noise with her mouth that sounded like exasperation. “I gather it’s evocative of some sort of human culture reference?”
“Yes, it looks like it should be piloted by little green aliens from Mars, here to destroy our planet,” Win said, a smile dancing on his lips.
Mim let out a short, dry laugh, remarkable for its genuineness in comparison to Tar’s more practiced ones. “Indeed, the design is atypical. The Editor enjoys applying humor to the otherwise mundane. Shall we board?”
The group shuffled up the ramp. A panel seamlessly lifted from the ship’s side and slid open. A lounge-like area greeted them, with low-lying seats inset into the floor. Interior decorations resembled the style of the downtown store; ostentatious and vaguely futuristic, like a gaudy space-themed casino. Sam let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relieved at not spotting any tables with straps, medical devices with needles, or any one of the other numerous images that ships such as these conjured in his mind.
An array of floor-to-ceiling windows surrounded them. Given that they were sitting below the bulk of the ship, they had a full circle of sightlines.
“Remain in this part of the shuttle for the duration of your trip. The view should provide plenty of stimulation.” Mim pointed above them. “The ship is piloted by the space station’s AI. I won’t be joining you, so you’ll be the only three on board. It will take a few hours to arrive, and Wendell will be there to greet you. He’ll see to your needs. Also, there are uniforms inside this closet here. You should change beforehand.”
She spoke in a staccato pattern, apparently disinterested. Sam struggled to absorb the information.
Nadia raised her hand.
Mim waved for her to speak. “I appreciate the decorum, but it won’t be needed. My training sessions aren’t heavy on structure. Learning to use aether requires a certain adaptability.”
“That was part of my question, actually. Will you be leading our training? Are you staying here to continue administering entrance exams? And also . . .” Nadia’s cheeks reddened a touch. “What is the role of female Xarlogic in your society? I’m curious to hear how another civilization views that . . . topic.”
“I am the instructor, yes. You are correct, I will remain on your planet to test applicants over the next week.” She paused, relaxing somewhat, and her voice took on more animation. “Since you’ll be the first to arrive, use this break to learn your way around the station and practice what you learned during your entrance exams. I suggest you take special effort to notice and perceive your surroundings, and also please practice meditating. Those skills are the foundation to using aether with any success, especially as you start to specialize in your specific affinities. Now is not the time to discuss affinities in depth, but at this point, you’ve already encountered yours. See if you can’t theorize as to what exactly it might be.”
Her posture stiffened again. “As for your last question, I’ll start by saying that Xarlogic biology is roughly analogous to humans. I’ll spare you the details of how we differ. It is useful to know, though that the head ridges of female Xarlogic are less pronounced, and our skin color is lighter, usually more blue or indigo, at least in the spectrum of light available to humans.” She gestured toward the top of her head, emphasizing the ridges.
Nadia smiled uncertainly. “Oh, I see.”
“Xarlogic males and females enjoy equal societal status. For complicated reasons, reproduction is carefully managed by our government.” Mim tapped the side of her head. “It’s a mark of prudence that you recognize how much variation in norms you are likely to come across within our galaxy. Be cautious in applying human standards toward your interpretation of others’ behavior. I will provide further instruction on this should it be deemed necessary.”
With that, she glided back down the ramp.
Nadia said, “Huh. They sure have a way about them.”
Sam chuckled. “She’s nothing like Tar. I get the feeling that there’s a lot going on underneath the surface.” He found it curious Tar had never mentioned Mim publicly. Possibly because she’d intimidate people.
“Look at you, amateur alien psychologist.” Nadia scoffed. “This is a nice ride. Is either of you nervous you’ll get spacesick?”
Win paled. “Is that a possibility? I’m not great with motion sickness in regular vehicles.”
Sam pointed to an object that looked like a refrigerator. “Maybe they have ginger ale?”
#
With a lurch, the ship lifted off the ground. Sam listened for engine noise but heard nothing. The ship gathered acceleration and zipped forward. Once on the tarmac, like a helicopter, the ship launched itself up. Sam’s ears popped. His body pressed against the seat, and he focused on keeping his breathing regular.
The ground quickly dwindled below them. Sam pushed himself up to stagger over to the nearest window and look for his hometown. He picked out a water tower that looked familiar. He’d told his mother the rough time of their departure. He imagined her searching the skies and gasping at the red dot speeding above. He gave a mental wave goodbye.
“Why isn’t the government freaking out?” Nadia asked, still sitting in the middle, her forehead covered in sweat.
“I wondered that too. Apparently, Tar has a universal clearance,” Win informed her.
“What doesn’t he have?” Nadia grumbled.
They reached a height from which Sam could see the whole topography of the land below. He’d flown once as a child and fondly remembered being glued to the window, gazing upon the vast world. This time, now freed from porthole-size observation windows, he could barely take it all in. He wanted to soak up every last detail.
Alas, the land continued to shrink and the air grew hazier, like fog that had shed its skin. Wait a second. Wouldn’t the ship get hot as it breached the atmosphere? He touched the floor and even a window. Nope, not even a wisp of heat. They may as well be cruising down the coastal highway.
The gravity loosened a smidge, just enough to keep them rooted to the floor, but his whole body felt lighter. His shoulders relaxed, and he waved his arms around, like an inflatable tube guy. People would pay out the nose to experience this. If this otherwise didn’t work out, he could always capture the ship and make a living taking guests for space joyrides. Surely a billionaire or two would be interested.
An electronic voice interrupted his reverie, startling him. “Now departing Earth’s planetary boundary. Travel time to space station designated Sanctum estimated to be two hours, forty-seven minutes, and fifty-three seconds. Guests are invited to help themselves to refreshments in the object correctly identified earlier as a refrigerator. Thank you.”
It took Sam a second to recognize the voice as the same one from the entrance exam. He’d assumed it was just part of the simulation. “I’m sorry? Who are you?” he stammered.
“I am Mega, the AI system that operates Sanctum.”
Crap. An AI had observed him throughout the whole entrance exam? What kinds of things did it know about him now? He looked at the other two, but neither seemed nonplussed. “What’s going on?” Sam asked.
Win gave him a puzzled look. “Mega introduced itself when we started our exams. Didn’t it provide you helpful guidance?”
Sam shook his head slowly. “Not exactly. I did hear a voice, but only after I completed each assessment. Definitely no helpful guidance. Uh, Mega, care to explain?”
“The explanation is that Editor Tar requested different programming for your exam.”
“Huh? Why?” Sam’s anger climbed.
“That information is not available to me.”
Gah. “Great. Again. What’s he playing at?” Sam huffed.
Win scratched his head. “What does he gain by treating you differently?”
“Maybe he believes no pain, no gain?” Nadia chipped in.
Sam did his best to shrug off his annoyance. “There might be something to that. This is partly what I feared when he said you and I have ‘higher potential.’ That he’d treat us differently. Or just me in this case.”
“So let’s practice what Mim instructed us to do and keep our eyes peeled. Like we talked about,” Nadia reasoned.
Win nodded, pointing above them. Sam got the hint. They were being listened to. The three lapsed into silence.
The view had changed. “Hey, I think we’re in space now.” The other two joined Sam by the windows and let out quiet gasps of astonishment.
He tried to take it all in. In one direction, the all-pervasive darkness of space. In the other, the Sun, blazing intensely and forcing him to shield his eyes. In between sat the moon, no longer a flat circle but instead round, cratered, and desolate. And most magnificently, Earth, stretching out below them, a magnificent globe of verdant blue, white, and green. His home. A pang of longing struck him. He’d only just left, and yet a part of him already wanted to return.
Sam could sit in that spot for the rest of his life and keep finding new things to stare at.
And for the first time since the exam, the itch had gone away.