Ashes in the Sky Page 6

  A footstep fell behind me. I swirled in that direction—as if it would help. Black was black from any angle.

  Despite the adrenalin coursing through my veins, I lowered my arms. A sense of security wrapped me up like a warm hug. I was fine. Safe. Nothing could hurt me.

  I closed my eyes to shelter myself from what I couldn’t see. My entire body tingled, opened up, and accepted the swirling essence of well-being. I wasn’t alone. I should have been scared, but I couldn’t be. Something wouldn’t let the fear anywhere near me, as if I was hidden under an impenetrable blanket.

  The presence surged against me. Around me. Taunting and caressing at the same time. I’d experienced that degree of tension and tranquility only once in my life: in the arms of a guy I was never meant to meet, but fate had brought us together to save both our worlds.

  A pain lodged in my chest, and I held back a sob. Could it be? “David?”

  “Hello, Jess.”

  His voice struck me with the force of a train. It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t be there. He was on Mars.

  I covered my face with my hands as tears filled my eyes. “David, I can’t see you. They turned out the lights.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  I sensed him to my left and turned. I stepped toward him, but could feel him dodging me, dashing to my right.

  “Why are you moving away?”

  The pause cut a small hole in my heart. I needed to hear his voice again. I needed that validation that he was actually with me.

  “David?”

  “I just want to look at you,” he said.

  “In the pitch dark?” I reached in the direction of his voice.

  “I can see in the dark.”

  “You can?”

  I could almost sense his grin. “How do you think I navigated the woods at night on Earth?”

  Oh yeah. Hadn’t thought of that.

  The heat of his breath kissed my fingertips before he moved again.

  “David, please stand still. I want to touch you.”

  Silence.

  I closed my eyes again, opening my senses. He was to my right now. The pull was undeniable, as if we were tethered, and he’d given the string a tug. I walked toward him.

  “Wait,” he said. I could sense him moving: behind me now. “Keep your eyes closed.”

  I turned my left ear toward his voice. “I can’t see anyway.”

  “Just keep them closed.”

  He was close. Very close. The back of my shirt heated, sending the rest of me trembling. It was like standing in front of a six-foot-tall alien-shaped space heater. I wanted to back up, trace his features with my fingertips, lose myself in his arms; but I couldn’t move.

  “David?”

  “Shhh.”

  He gently caressed my shoulders and ran his hands down the arms of my shirt. The heat—it was almost too much to bear. A gasp escaped my lips.

  David released me. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” Well, maybe a little. I guess startled was more the word. Even through my sleeves, his hands burned ten times hotter than I remembered.

  But that made sense. The whole time we were together on Earth, he’d been insulated by a simulated human coating. This was David. Only David. All one hundred and fifteen and some odd degrees of him.

  Was that why he didn’t leave the lights on? Was he afraid for me to see what he really looked like?

  I spun and seized his wrist before he could back away.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” He tugged, but only slightly. This guy ripped apart an Army convoy with his bare hands. If he had wanted me to let go, there’d be no stopping him.

  “You’re not hurting me.” I pulled him closer and ran my hands down his hard, contoured chest. He seemed a smidgen taller. He trembled. His skin stung and blazed through me. Did my touch chill him just as much as his burned me?

  One of his hands covered mine, sandwiching my fingers between what felt like two heating pads. He brushed our cheeks together. The tingle was instantaneous, flying through me and coating every inch of me in delight. I’d spent the last two months trying to convince myself that feeling was my over-active imagination, but if this were my imagination, I wouldn’t mind losing myself in it forever.

  “I missed you, Jess.”

  A big, painful ball formed in my throat. If I said anything, I knew I’d start sobbing. Instead, I slipped my arms around him and cuddled up to his chest. Everyone told me what I’d felt out in the woods with David had been my imagination or a product of alien mind control. As sweet, gentle energy seeped into me and blanketed my soul in its safe, wonderful embrace, I could finally take solace in knowing they were wrong.

  David loved me. I could actually feel it.

  I desperately needed to make his body echo with my feelings—to send sensations through him like he did to me. I licked my lips and leaned up. It didn’t take more than that. His lips covered mine, as if he’d been waiting for my permission.

  Permission granted.

  His tongue darted into my mouth as his hands smoothed up my back. The energy inside me heated to nearly unbearable depths, but I didn’t care. I needed him more than I needed to breathe.

  I sucked his tongue farther into my mouth, triggering a deep growl that tickled against my lips. My hands heated and stung as I rubbed my palms over his bare, solid shoulders. My body shook. Sweat beaded at my temples. My breathing became staggered. A pressure built inside me, maddened me. I thought I might explode. I tightened my grip on his shoulders and ran my fingers up his neck, desperate to tangle my knuckles in his …

  My fingers ran across a clean, bare scalp. Where was his hair?

  Startled, I released the kiss with a gasp. David backed away from me. The intensity, the need, the pressure drained away as if someone had unstopped the sink. My body cooled, and when I closed my eyes, I heard—I actually heard—tears trickle down his cheeks. How was that even possible?

  “David, I’m sorry.”

  His breathing seemed labored, lost between what I knew were sobs. I reached out for him, but he backed away again.

  “David, please turn on the lights.”

  “No. This is exactly why I met you in the dark.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve done research on your culture. Appearance is important. Very important. Without lights, you didn’t see me. You saw Jared Linden.”

  Guilty as charged. At least a smidge.

  I squinted, trying to see through the veil of nothingness. “All right, listen, that’s true, but it doesn’t mean what you think. My memories of you are all in your human form. That’s all I know. I saw the real you for all of thirty seconds before you left the planet.” I rubbed my face. How could I make him understand? “I care about you, David. Not what you look like. I’ve been lost since you left. The only time I’ve felt complete since that night was in your arms just now.” God that sounded stupid. Why couldn’t I explain how I felt? “I need you. It doesn’t matter what color you are or where you’re from. Nothing is going to change how I feel.”

  The silence sliced through me with the mercy of the dullest knife ever invented.

  My body hummed as he moved closer.

  “That morning,” he whispered in my ear from behind, “when they stripped my mask, you smiled.”

  I remembered him stepping into the beacon, and watching his human covering melt away. My gaze had barely lingered on his lilac form, instead focusing on his brilliant, turquoise eyes. Yes, I’d smiled. “Because for the first time I saw the real you, and everything I’d grown to know and trust was still in your eyes. I didn’t see an Erescopian, David. I saw you: the guy I’d run through the woods with, the guy who listened, the guy who … ” saved me while I was supposed to be saving him.

  He leaned forward, and I brushed my cheek against his. A tingle shot through me, only slightly less intense than before. He was perfection incarnate. How could som
ething that felt so right ever be wrong?

  “Turn on the lights, David.”

  He stepped away. I had to control myself not to follow, to not throw myself back into his arms. The draw, the need, the pressure overwhelmed beyond measure.

  The lights flipped on, blinding me for a moment. Silence surrounded me.

  I was alone.

  9

  The walls seemed to close in. The air congealed and stifled, stealing my breath and restricting my movement. Or maybe the confinement had come from within me.

  Why did I have to flinch? I knew David wouldn’t have hair.

  I placed my hands on the cold, hard, impenetrable steel-like walls. Maybe you needed to be Erescopian for the doors to open?

  The wall shimmered beside me, like the moon shining down on a lake. David was coming back! My heart fluttered. I ached to touch him again, to finally see him without his human mask.

  Nematali materialized through the wall. I inched forward, but David didn’t follow her. Hope drained from my body, leaving a welt of disappointment pressing against my chest.

  “Where’s David?”

  “He has retreated to another part of the ship.”

  “Then take me to him.”

  Her expression flattened. “I cannot.”

  I shoved her. “Yes, you can. Don’t lie to me.”

  Her wide eyes softened. “I’m sorry. He asked me not to.”

  The words sunk into me. Slashing through every fiber. “Why?”

  “I don’t know what happened between the two of you on Earth, but I find his reactions to your presence very—disquieting.”

  “It’s none of your business.” The raise of her brow told me she was making it her business. I tugged my hair. “Please, David means the world to me, and I just made a stupid mistake. Please take me to him so I can apologize.”

  “Your predicament is an unfortunate one.”

  “It doesn’t have to be unfortunate! Let me say I’m sorry!”

  Nematali took in a deep, slow breath. “When he is upset, he normally submerses himself in work. The Mars Project is on our tour schedule.”

  I straightened. “So you’ll take me to him?”

  “No, but we can arrive at the Mars Project earlier than scheduled—by accident.”

  A smile burst through the tears running down my face. I hugged her and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  She wiped away the kiss, staring at her hand. “Indeed.”

  I followed as she motioned me down the hall. The plain, swirling silver seemed to close in. How could these people live every second of every day in such a dreary, colorless existence? No wonder David …

  Something distorted the partition beside me. I gasped and stumbled, nearly plowing into Nematali.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Something’s there.” I pointed to the wall—the naked, clean, shiny wall of nothing.

  Nematali glanced my way, her expression vacant. God, I must seem like a total idiot to this woman. Even I could see there was nothing there.

  But there had been. I saw it. It was like a demon bubble. Stalking. Watching. Dwelling just below that stinking liquid partition, waiting to jump out and grab me!

  She rubbed her hands against the metal surface, probably to humor me. I tensed, waiting for something to pop out and scream, “boo!” Or worse.

  I should have been happy when nothing happened, but instead, my stomach sank. Did I have space sickness or something?

  Nematali folded her arms and turned toward me.

  “I swear there was something there.”

  “Our ships may seem strange to those who have not encountered this type of technology. I have no doubt you saw something. What I doubt is that it is anything to be concerned with.”

  Easy for her to say. The walls weren’t stalking her.

  We continued down the corridor, the décor just as gray as all the others had been. Would it have hurt anybody to hang a picture or something? Maybe then I’d stop seeing things!

  The more we walked, the tighter the hallway seemed, even though the corridor didn’t get any narrower.

  The passage appeared to go on forever. Unmarked. Clear. Nothing but miles of straight, gray walls. Nematali ambled on, hands folded at her ribs, staring at her fingers. She didn’t even look up.

  I nearly tripped when she stopped without warning.

  “We have arrived,” Nematali said.

  Seriously? “How the heck do you know where you are?”

  “My people rely on all of our senses, not only our sight.”

  “What are you saying, that this spot smells different?”

  Nematali laughed. “Hardly, but my mind knows where I want to go. The walls here have a unique reverberation. Each area is different. If you could learn to rely less on your eyes, you may be able to sense it as well.”

  My thoughts trailed back to the chamber where the lights went out. The room seemed silent while illuminated, but the second the lights winked off, I heard a hum that hadn’t been there before. When David entered the chamber, I could hear him—sense his whereabouts. Maybe I did rely too much on my sight.

  I closed my eyes and tried to open my senses. The floor vibrated beneath my feet. Hums, trickles, and whistles surrounded me, where I was sure the hallway had been silent before. Interesting. Maybe I could find my way around without seeing.

  My chest fluttered as my body ebbed toward the deep gray barrier, almost as if pulled toward the liquid metal. Nematali grabbed my shoulder. “Why did you move in this direction?”

  I stared at the wall. Part of me expected to see bony skeleton fingers yanking on a rope tied to my waist. “I don’t know. I kind of felt propelled or something.”

  “Maybe human minds are more developed than we’d thought.” She raised her hand to the wall. “Beyond this aperture is the preemptory sequencing division of the terraforming project. The work of these scientists, as you know, is quite important to both our people.”

  And David might be in there.

  I closed my eyes again and drank in the resonance emanating through the wall. Could it be possible? Could our minds know where we needed to go, and help us “sense” our way there?

  “Can we go in?”

  “Of course. As soon as they allow access.” She pointed to my bag. “And you may want to have your camera ready.”

  My muscles locked up as I stared at the solid surface.

  “What kind of door will it be: the open up and walk through kind or the turn-into-liquid, walk into, and be-really-cold kind?”

  She tilted her head, as if my question perplexed her. “Anytime we walk from one area to another, the wall will divide, allowing access to the next room. Anytime we traverse to a space that requires compression, or air-tightness as your people call it, one must pass through, or into the partition to keep the integrity of the ship intact.”

  Ask a stupid question, get an overly complex answer. That was pretty cool, though.

  My shoulders relaxed as the wall shimmered and opened into a good-old-fashioned doorframe. No compression or integrity issues here. Hurray for our team!

  I fumbled with my camera as I stepped over the threshold onto shiny, light gray tiles. The yellow lighting stung my eyes, and I blinked until they adjusted.

  “Whoa,” I whispered.

  Dozens of pale, violet-skinned Erescopians fanned out across the room, completely naked, as they had been the night they landed on Earth. I raised my camera and pounded away a few dozen shots.

  If the people back home wanted aliens, Jess Martinez was going to deliver aliens. I adjusted my lens to compensate for the odd lighting and resumed shooting.

  The Erescopians’ coloring appeared slightly darker than it had the morning the ships landed. Especially the deep purple, nearly blue blotchy markings that seemed scattered across their bodies. I tried to discern if there was any similarity between the markings, but I cou
ld find none.

  A shiver crossed my spine. Even in the bright lighting, I still couldn’t tell male from female. What would I do if I found out David wasn’t a guy?

  The Erescopians left their workstations and formed a half moon, facing Nematali and me. Each held their arms at their sides and waved a hand. Some waved both hands. The gesture created a buzzy-hummy noise, kind of like the racket all those cicadas made that year when the nasty bugs all climbed out of the ground. I clicked the video button, hoping the microphone would be able to capture the odd sound.

  “What are they doing?” I asked.

  “They are appreciating you.”

  Appreciating? Maybe this was the alien version of applause. “Am I supposed to do something in return?”

  “Place your hand in the center of your chest and bow your head slightly.”

  I snapped two pictures before doing as she instructed. Once I bowed, the Erescopians turned and moved about the room. I took advantage of the opportunity to take a few dozen shots of the interior. The scientists seemed to be typing on low keyboard-like panels. Some of the workstations came up out of the floor. Others hung mounted on the walls, poised at their waist level. I couldn’t imagine typing standing up, let alone having the keyboard that low. Looked uncomfortable.

  I closed my eyes for a moment and reached out with my senses, searching for the serenity, the calm, the comfort that was David.

  Nothing.

  Could he block his resonance from me? I glanced around, ashamed of myself. They all looked alike. I mean, their markings were slightly different, but I didn’t think there was any way I’d be able to tell them apart.

  Ever.

  It made me feel like chicken liver knowing the guy who’d breathed life into me might be in this room, and I wouldn’t even recognize him.

  Nematali introduced me to one of the scientists, who offered me a bowl of green, red, and purple leaves.

  Salad. Lovely.

  I pretended to enjoy the bitter plants as he spoke to me about terraforming and schmoozed me about how excited they all were to have a sentient neighboring world. I tried to be as polite as I could. I even managed to take a few more pictures, but my attention kept trailing across the room, hoping David would appear. The longer the tour went on, the more my gut twisted.