Earth

2017

Rory's confession had derailed everything it possibly could–surprise. Not. Her inconvenient conscience had gotten her into trouble.

Needing to speak with advisors, the President requested that they take a hiatus, and General Price immediately clasped Rory's arm, practically dragging her back to her room.

"What the hell," he growled.

"Everyone needs to know."

"What part of your life's in danger did you not understand?" he whispered, back turned to the camera.

Rory stalked to the window so she could face the opposite direction. Reluctantly, the general joined her as they both looked through the purple-painted window.

"No one is going to kill me. That wouldn't stop whoever's out there. If anything, it could anger them. It doesn't make sense to kill me."

"Some people would rather not take any chances. No one knows what you're capable of."

Her eyes slid closed. "What does it matter anyway? I was dead the moment I arrived here. At least you all know now."

"You should have told me privately."

Perhaps. Only, how was Rory supposed to be sure she could trust him? The more people who knew, the less likely they were to be able to hide things like this. "What happens now?"

"I don't know. You essentially announced yourself as a threat today."

"Guess I am one."

"Get yourself together." The general turned to face her, looking down at her. "You're stronger than this. I've seen your perseverance. Don't give up."

"I'm going to be locked up and experimented on for however long I live. I can't even say that's the worst thing either. It's worse losing my entire life. It's worse not even remembering what I've lost. It's just this emptiness in me that aches with no words and no comfort." Her nostrils flared. "But the absolute worst is knowing that no matter how all this goes down, I'll be the one who brought chaos to an entire planet." Her voice lowered. "I can withstand your torture. I can't withstand this."

Price said nothing as he looked at her a moment longer and then sighed deeply. "You don't know what the future holds. Today you managed to do one thing, regardless of the danger you brought on yourself. You earned the president's trust. He's a man who follows his gut, and I can see that his gut says you're no threat."

The president's trust. She rubbed her arms to stave off a chill.

She would have to see what that was worth.

----------------------------------------

"Look up. Yes. A little more."

Rory flinched at the eyeliner jabbing against the waterline of her eye. "Tell the general to add this to the enhanced interrogation protocol."

The make-up artist forced an uncomfortable attempt at a smile and dabbed at the corner of her eye. "The lights will make you look like a ghost without makeup." Pulling back, the smile was more genuine. "You're very pretty, though. The camera will love you."

Pretty. Did Rory care about being pretty? It didn't feel like a great priority to her, and these instincts were the only way she'd come to know herself. She thought about letting the other woman know she suspected she was also handy with an M16, but decided that telling this random stranger might actually manage to get her into more trouble than the first time she'd spilled the news to a roomful of politicians and generals.

"You are too." A nice, polite response, as if they were just two normal people.

Reality churned as nausea in her gut. The president had not yet reconvened their meeting, but late in the night, General Price had slipped a plain red card beneath her door. In simple handwriting it read, "The United States owes you a debt of gratitude for your willing participation in our studies."

Afterward, a group of advisors and military personnel had informed her that a reporting team would be invited to the base to interview her and then proceeded to coach her on what she was to say. General Price chimed in with the others to inform her that the interview would be pre-recorded and not aired live, so there was no point in going off script except to lose favor with the US government.

But Rory remembered the card and knew that regardless of what General Price had said, both he and the president and whoever else they were working with actually wanted her to tell the truth.

"You don't have to do it," the general had said quietly to her an hour before the crew arrived. Rory didn't respond, because she did have to do this. The truth would eventually come out and Earth needed time to prepare for whatever would happen next. No one knew better than she did how it felt to not know. Her life had become all about not knowing.

This was her truth to speak and she would do it.

The make-up artist applied lipstick while a hairdresser sprayed what must have been a lethal amount of hairspray all over her head. Rory sputtered in the cloud of mist.

Though the TV crew had to be on edge, knowing only that they were at an important military base interviewing a woman who a prestigious doctor claimed to be an alien, none of them acted strangely. They were used to handling important cases and powerful people. It likely wasn't even the first time they'd dealt with an interview on this subject, even if they'd never had a live alien specimen before.

Rory was sure they did not believe the story Dr. Johanson had told.

Once hair and make-up had finished, Rory met with the reporter, so they could discuss the interview. The woman was older with soft white hair and deep brown eyes. She gave commands to her cameramen and then finally sat very straight with her eyes on Rory when it was time.

"Are you ready?"

Not at all. "Yes."

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After another fifteen minutes of mic checks, camera adjustments, more hairspray, and a brief technical difficulty, and finally there was a countdown indicating they were about to record.

"Hello, and welcome to the Gena Thomas Show. In my tenure I've been privileged to interview six presidents and dozens of important military officials. Tonight, for the first time in my career and in television history, I will be interviewing a woman accused of being an alien by a renowned medical professional. Dr. Johanson asserts that Rory, who supposedly does not know her last name, was found in the desert outside of an unidentified aircraft with no memory. The allegations are much more wild, however, as the doctor swears that the US military hired her to medically investigate Rory, and that her findings conclusively indicate that Rory is not the same species of human as we are."

Thomas allowed a pause before turning on a professional, but warm smile. "These are some of the most astonishing claims I've ever heard. I can't help but wonder how you're feeling."

"Truthfully, my feelings are so overwhelming, it's hard to put them into words."

"Well, first, I have to ask you." Thomas leaned forward slightly. "Were you found in a restricted area in the desert?"

She'd expected this, but still her heart began to beat harder. "I was. I'm not sure how I got there. The first thing I remember is looking around at all that open space, thinking I had no idea who I was or what I was doing here."

"Incredible." Thomas sat back now. "Truly, incredible. What about these medical tests? Were those conducted?"

"That part of the story is true as well."

"That part of the story? You make it sound as if you disagree with the rest of what Dr. Johanson says."

"Well." Rory chuckled. "I speak English awfully well for an alien."

Thomas chuckled as well, playing off her energy well. "Western American English, no less."

"I realize it's an incredible story. Somehow I managed to make it deep into the desert in a military area and I also have amnesia. But think of how it sounds to suggest that I'm an alien. Can you imagine how you would feel if someone claimed you were an alien? It's strangely hard to prove you aren't."

"So, you are saying that you, in fact, are not an alien?"

Rory smiled brightly at Thomas. "It would make more sense that I had an accident and wandered a long way. I did have quite the sunburn. Or even that I escaped from military captivity." She lowered her voice, like she wasn't supposed to say this. "Suggesting that I'm alien would be a nice way to use a crazy claim to distract from a much more feasible truth, wouldn't it?"

"You're suggesting the government is covering up that they held you captive and caused you to lose your memory by planting a story that you're an alien?"

"I'm sure someone out there has been thinking that. But others must be thinking too that Dr. Johanson really believes her claims. Without seeing the data, I suppose no one can know for certain."

Thomas was too seasoned of a reporter to let her evade the question for long. "Have you seen that data?"

"I have."

Her stare now looked laser sharp as she stared into Rory's eyes. "And what does it suggest?"

This was the part where Rory was supposed to say that it unequivocally proved her to be a normal human being. A Homo sapien like the rest of them. It wasn't too late for her to say it. There was no telling what would happen once Rory uttered the words. General Price must have had a plan for how to release this footage since it was pre-recorded. Or maybe just letting this highly respected news crew hear her testimony was enough of a start.

As Rory perfectly timed her pause, she realized she'd learned something new about herself. Even though she didn't feel comfortable giving an interview, she wasn't bad at it.

Her skillset was entirely perplexing to her.

"Gena, like most of America, and the rest of the world, I honestly don't know how to interpret raw DNA results." Rory laughed lightly. This time Thomas only smiled politely, but her stare was only sharper than before.

"Did anyone other than Dr. Johanson explain the results to you?"

"Yes, I received information from several sources, all of them highly respected in their field. Their explanations were unanimous. While they have no explanation for my amnesia or how I found myself in the desert, they did all agree on the results of my DNA tests, as well as my other medical testing."

She waited for someone to pull the plug on the interview any moment. It had to be making them nervous that she hadn't denied the claims already. But Rory wanted to give Thomas more time to ask questions. Once this interview ended, that would be it, and she wanted the reporter to have more opportunity to seek out the truth.

Rory drew in a deep breath, feeling as if time, and all of her known life was slowing to a stop in the lead up to this moment. "Every test showed that I am not the same species of human as you."

The silence that followed was all-consuming, as if Rory had popped open a black hole that tore through the fabric of space-time here in this room and it was sucking everything into its core.

The reporter's body shifted slightly forward while shock tightened the wrinkles around her eyes. There were audible gasps from cameramen and the sound of a pen falling to the ground. Thomas, to her credit, managed to hold her expression steady and to speak in a clear voice.

"You're confirming that Dr. Johanson's story is correct."

The door to the room had slammed open against the wall while Thomas spoke, but the reporter had not taken her attention off Rory, nor let her voice falter as soldiers stormed into the room.

"Yes," Rory managed as one ripped the microphone from her shirt. She spoke louder, hoping someone else's mic would pick her up as the soldiers wrestled with the camera equipment to shut it off. No one from the crew helped them. They stood, jaws slack, watching. "I'm not a human like you and the leading scientist on my case thinks I'm from a different planet."

"How do you speak English?"

The seriousness of the situation pressed down upon Rory in the same way as it had with the president, until she felt like nothing. "Those are the questions you need to keep asking."

At some point, the soldiers had gotten all of the cameras turned off, and General Price had burst into the room with other officials.

"That is classified." Another general pointed at one of the cameras. "Hand over all footage."

Gena Thomas looked to one of her cameramen. "You said this would be an honest interview, gentlemen."

"It was until this woman clearly conspired with Dr. Johanson to defraud the America people with her lies." His voice hitched. "The footage! Now!"

General Price walked forward to stand beside Rory. "The president has declassified the interview."

"What? He agreed–"

"It's true. He's signing an executive order as we speak. Don't touch it, because it has to go through the declassification process, and you cannot intervene."

"You're lying."

General Price did not defend himself, but instead looked to Gena Thomas. "You'll be allowed to air the interview as promised as soon as we can officially declassify it."

"Thank you, General."

Then, he looked to Rory. Concern filled his eyes, but he kept his voice emotionless. "The president thanks you for your service."

"Tell him thank you, but I didn't do it for him." Rory swallowed hard and looked back to Gena. "I want to share my story. I want Earth to have every opportunity to figure out what's happening and what you need to do to protect yourselves."

Gena glanced around the room and spoke quietly. "No doubt you did this at great cost to yourself. We aren't your people, but you've shown us kindness."

"I think maybe we're all each other's people, Ma'am. At least, we should be."

Or maybe that was the problem. That they were all the people of some advanced race, seeding life throughout nearby solar systems, or even the entire galaxy. The known universe.

Rory didn't know what awaited her in the future, but she knew one thing. No matter what happened with the footage, the television crew heard the truth, and they did not look like the type to let that get buried.

Earth was about to learn that they were not alone.

And Rory was the one to bring such a history-changing announcement to the planet. It would change the lives of everyone on earth to know this and to both marvel at the truth and fear the future.

Familiar or not? This was the question she had to ask herself day after day.

But it felt neither familiar nor unfamiliar. Something else. Something closer to expected but new.

What the hell was Rory doing on this planet?