Ashes in the Sky Page 7

  Nematali translated as one of the scientists explained their research to me. Completely zoned out, I depended on my camera to record what she said.

  Until my heart fluttered.

  Joy. Peace.

  An undeniable sense of serenity eased into me, caressing me from inside.

  My breath hitched. David may not have been in the room the entire time, but he was there now. He could hide among his people, but he couldn’t hide the way he made me feel.

  Nematali moved on to another station, but I didn’t follow. I closed my eyes, severing myself from to the one sense I counted on too much. The lack of sight opened up the room in ways I never dreamed possible: the movement of the floor, the humming of the walls, the musical chatter of different scientists working at their stations. And—there it was … that pull, like being tied to someone. Someone close.

  I spun toward the entrance, where a tall Erescopian stood, wide-eyed. The pull drove me forward, the intensity heightening as our gazes locked.

  David.

  He shook his head. “Jess … ”

  I closed the gap between us and placed my palm on his cheek. “I’m sorry. Please—”

  My hand stung, and I pulled it away. David grabbed my wrist and flipped it over, holding me with two warm fingers. An angry, puffy, red rash marred my palm, reminding me of the time Maggie and I went to the beach and forgot to wear sunscreen. I opened my other hand and found it also red, but not swollen. Ouch.

  My wrist beaded with sweat beneath David’s fingers. He released his grasp, tucking his hands into his armpits. “I hurt you. I hurt you before, and I just hurt you again.”

  “No.” I reached for him but thought better of it. The sting set into my palm, throbbing.

  His eyes followed my hands as they returned to my side. I lowered my gaze. He had hurt me. Not that it was intentional. The difference in our body temperatures, it was huge.

  I wiped the sweat from my hairline. That was why it was over eighty-five degrees on the ship. That was probably cool for an Erescopian. Not cool for cold-blooded 98.6-degree humans.

  David tucked his hands deeper into his armpits. His eyes saddened. If he’d burned me, my cold skin must have given him frostbite.

  We couldn’t touch. We really couldn’t touch!

  A grimace twisted his face. “We’re too different. We should have considered that before … ”

  A huge weight pressed in on my chest. My lungs couldn’t hold air. What was he saying?

  He reached for me but drew away. Pain filled his eyes.

  “Nun poissium tales est,” he whispered.

  I had no idea what he’d said, but I knew I didn’t like it.

  “David?”

  Nematali made her way back to me as David darted toward the wall. The exit barely appeared before he rushed through.

  “David, wait!” I sprinted toward the door, but the wall rematerialized. Hard, warm metal smashed against my face. I punched the churning partition. “David, please, stop!”

  Nematali eased me away from the now solid surface.

  “Open the door,” I demanded.

  “So you can go where?”

  “David’s upset.”

  “So I saw.”

  “It’s all my fault. I need to talk to him.”

  “Tirran Coud has concerns he must work out on his own.”

  Yeah, concerns that I kept making worse. “He needs me.”

  She seized my hands and flipped them over. “As you can see, prolonged contact between our people is not compatible. I’m wondering why you would have touched him long enough to hurt yourself?”

  I shrugged. “I gave him a hug.”

  “That odd gesture where you put your arms around another?” She leaned closer. “I understand that you are friends, but remember that there are those who would be appalled by the thought of your relationship going beyond that. I suggest you find another symbolic greeting. One that involves less contact.”

  “What, like a salute?”

  She straightened and placed her hand to her forehead. “Yes, a much safer greeting.”

  Yeah, and about as romantic as a gondola ride on a smelly, polluted lake.

  I crossed my arms, trying to ward off the thought of never touching David again. A part of me chipped off and died. I wasn’t sure I could do it.

  “Can we please be done here?”

  Nematali motioned to the door. “Of course.”

  10

  One corridor wall blurred into another. I lost myself in a haze, dwelling inside my own stupidity, and nearly plowed into Nematali when she stopped short again.

  She ran her fingers through the wall. “We have created a place for you to rest. I suggest you take some time to compose yourself before we continue our tour.”

  A beam of light appeared within the wall. It split and opened into a doorway.

  Maybe she was right. I hadn’t even thought of taking a picture since leaving the Mars Project. If I was going to be a successful photojournalist, I needed to learn how to push personal crap aside and keep my head in the game.

  I stepped through the doorway and gasped as the scent of fireplace ash and waffles wafted around me. Grade school pictures of a little girl who needed braces graced the walls of a room I knew all too well.

  “Am I home?” I ran my fingers over the back of the couch. Soft. The scent of burnt pine tickled my nose.

  “No. Tirran Coud recreated this for you. He thought it would make you comfortable.”

  Holy holodeck. I took in the chipped paint on the wall by the staircase, and the picture of Mom and Dad hanging beside the door. “Yeah, I like it, but I kinda wanted to see how Erescopians lived.”

  “I will see what I can do.”

  I spun toward her. “Can you take me to David’s house?”

  Her eyes darkened. “No.”

  “Please?”

  “Such things are not done in our culture. What you ask is not possible.”

  “So what am I supposed to do, just sit here?”

  Her nose twitched. “I suggest you rest, as instructed. Refocus yourself. I will cancel our next appointment, and we will reconvene in one of your Earth hours. I will come back for you. Be ready.”

  She stepped back, and the wall closed behind her, changing into a replica of our front door. I grabbed the handle and tried to open it, but nothing happened.

  Locked in.

  I slumped on the couch. Some of the details in the room were off, like a few missing knick-knacks on the mantle above the fireplace, and the end-table was cherry rather than pine, but the couch was perfect, right down to the small rip in the right arm. Probably because David had spent the night there after I dragged him out of the woods.

  Was recreating something like this easy to do, like downloading your memory into a computer, or had he spent hours trying to recreate every detail? It didn’t matter. He’d done something special. For me.

  And what did I do for him? I flinched because he was different, when different didn’t even matter to me.

  I rubbed my shoulders, cringing as my right hand throbbed. No matter how much I tried to deny it, he’d hurt me. He hadn’t meant to, and for all I knew I’d hurt him just as much.

  What were we going to do?

  I leaned on my knees and covered my eyes. We had to figure something out. There was no way I could live the rest of my life trying to …

  A flood of dread spread through me. I grabbed my chest as my heart clenched and twisted. The sensation eased into a sorrow that sliced through my lungs.

  Confusion. Longing. Need.

  Need for what? I jumped to my feet.

  The familiar surroundings mocked me. This wasn’t my living room. I stood in a simulation—something created to give me comfort; but instead it reminded me that I was human and on a spaceship surrounded by aliens I couldn’t touch.

  A deep calm settled over me. I longed to cuddle on the couch, rest, and slee
p. I blinked it away.

  Peace.

  I laughed at the thought. I may never find peace again.

  Please, peace.

  Wait. What?

  I spun, scanning the room. Joy wove through me. Joy conflicted with pain.

  The feelings were not part of me. They were outside, seeping in: crawling, quaking, entering me like a twisted little virus.

  I stumbled as something pulled me in the direction of the wall beside the staircase.

  Wonder. Allure. Need. The jumbled sentiments trounced my emotions, pushing them aside. Not crawling after all, but reaching out. Adoring.

  “David?”

  I placed my hands on the wall, feeling stupid talking to the scuff in the paint from hauling my dresser up the stairs when we moved in.

  The emotional swirl flashed surprise, but quickly abated to joy and satisfaction.

  “David, I know you’re there.”

  A wave of sadness swirled around me, scratching at the hairs on my arms. Dammit, he was still upset.

  “Please, I’m sorry about flinching. I was just surprised. I don’t care that you don’t have any hair.”

  I took a deep breath. Was that true? Yes, of course it was! But I did enjoy running my fingers through his thick, soft tresses.

  Nausea seeped through the wall. Pain.

  Smooth, Jess. If I was picking up his emotions, he could certainly sense my stupid, open, human thoughts.

  “Listen, I got used to you looking human. It’s all I know. But the real you is all I want. I just need to get used to the idea.”

  The pain deepened. It clawed into my chest. Burning, breaking.

  What more could I say? David had to understand that I needed to get used to what he looked like. Didn’t he know how amazing his Erescopian form was? How beautifully his violet skin shimmered in the ship’s low lighting? How badly I wanted to run my fingers over the lavender curves of his arms and shoulders?

  The wall around my left hand brightened, outlining my fingers in a brilliant glow. A handprint formed beneath mine. Larger.

  My palm warmed, as if someone aimed a heater at me from behind the wall.

  “David.” My eyes watered. “I can feel you.”

  Pain. Doubt. Dread.

  I leaned my forehead against the chipped paint. “Please don’t leave me alone in here. I need you. I want to hold you.”

  Anger. Loathing.

  But why? Didn’t he believe me? Didn’t he want me as much as I wanted him?

  The bright print disappeared.

  “David. Don’t go!”

  The outside emotions whipped up in a whirl around me and disappeared.

  I slammed my fists against the wall. “David!”

  The paint shimmered and turned a metallic gray before fading back into worn, painted drywall once again. I slipped to the base of the stairs and stared at the stain in the carpet from when Maggie dropped her hot cocoa last year. The fibers were soft between my fingers, not course like the actual carpet.

  Everything around me was an illusion. The only thing that was real had been on the other side of that wall. And I’d scared him away. Maybe for good, and I wasn’t even sure why.

  11

  My lashes fluttered open, and I gasped. Nematali’s bright turquoise eyes blinked inches from my nose.

  “I had trouble waking you. Are you ill?” She righted herself.

  I pushed up off the carpeted step. A deep burn riddled the muscles in my back. “No. Sorry. I guess I fell asleep.”

  She glanced at the couch, and up the stairs. “Were the sofa and bed insufficient resting places?”

  “No, they were fine. I just kinda zonked out.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck and perused the wall. Stretching, I settled my shoes on the hardwood landing. If Nematali hadn’t woken me, I seriously might have questioned if this morning was only a dream. All of this looked far too real.

  “If you are rested, we must continue.”

  I stood. “Oh, okay.” I shifted my weight. “But I have to pee.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I believe you know the location of the hygienic facilities.”

  Hygienic facilities? Oh. “Yeah. I got this.”

  I headed toward the bathroom and sighed at my reflection. My puffy eyes begged for more sleep. Funny. I was in the middle of the journalistic opportunity of a lifetime, but it all seemed wrong now. I couldn’t enjoy any of it knowing that David was somewhere out there, hurting, because of me. I washed and dried my hands and returned to the foyer.

  “Come,” she said. “We do not want to be late.”

  I grabbed my backpack. “Okay, okay, I got it. Sorry.”

  I tripped several times struggling to keep up with her. Darn, she could walk fast. I glanced around the partitions, searching for any signs of my mysterious shadow-stalker from earlier in the day. But the walls remained a simple, swirling gray.

  A doorway opened, and Nematali stopped short, making way for an Erescopian who stepped into the hallway. The dude looked me up and down before saying a few words to Nematali that she didn’t bother translating. She glanced in my direction before answering.

  It reminded me of the time José Valasquez and I had a short conversation in Spanish while Maggie stood right beside us. Maggs had seemed totally miffed. I blew it off at the time, but now I got it. We’d been rude.

  Nematali cut the other alien off. “Jessica Natalie, I am sorry for the intrusion. This will only take a moment.” Then she continued their dialogue. So much for not being late.

  There must be a universal law that says adults can rush teenagers around for no good reason. Then, at the slightest provocation, they could turn around and do whatever they wanted. Even if it meant being late for what they rushed the kid for in the first place. This was almost as bad as trying to walk across the Air Force base with Dad.

  She glanced at me, shifting her weight. I guess I could give her brownie points for realizing I was uncomfortable, unless she’d done that mind-reading thing. I didn’t have a headache, though, so she couldn’t have been fishing around in my head. It was probably a no-brainer since I must have looked just as peeved as Maggie had that day.

  It didn’t speed her up at all, though.

  Taking advantage of the respite, I snapped a few pictures of the alien. There was a weird block on the floor with etching on it. Click. The door the alien had come from was still open. Click. The ceiling shimmered like glass. Click. I hoped these pictures would come out okay. It was dark in the hallway, and a flash seemed inappropriate while people were talking.

  My rear end hit the wall when I backed up to get a clear shot of both of them. The metal buckled slightly, as if I’d backed into a pillow. Why were some parts of the walls soft and others hard? I moved to my right, trying to get the depth of the hallway behind them in the shot. I rested against the partition, and it gave, swallowing me in one gulp.

  I couldn’t breathe. My hands, neck, and face froze as if I’d walked into a howling blizzard. I floundered in the nothingness before I tumbled into another hallway. Coughing, I staggered as a flash of heat bombarded me with temperatures that had to be off the Richter scale. My lungs burned, taking in the near-boiling air. I remembered Dad trying to describe the heat in Iraq to my mom and me. “Hotter than Hell,” he’d said. “Your lungs ached just breathing.” I remembered how he said they adapted: deliberate, short breaths. I tried short intakes, but my head spun.

  Crap.

  Nematali had to see what happened to me, right? I felt along the partition, but it had become solid again. Sweat poured down my temples, but I knew more than the balmy air was to blame.

  I moved along the wall, searching for another soft spot. I found one. In the floor.

  I fell through a chilly hole and splatted on my rear end. My camera crashed on the ground beside me.

  Ouch. The door in the ceiling closed, leaving me in shadows as I rubbed my sore butt.

  Didn’t I jus
t leave this hallway? Wait, maybe not. I blinked, and let my eyes water. The outlines of several doors appeared. Where was I?

  Somewhere you shouldn’t be, Jess.

  I chanced a deep breath. The air was cooler here, but only slightly. At least my lungs didn’t burn.

  Reaching beside me, I snatched my camera and checked it. Looked okay as far as I could see in the darkness. I made sure it was still set for low lighting and snapped a shot. Within the photo, the frames of the doorways seemed shrouded in mist. Creepy.

  The ceiling I’d fallen from was about ten feet above me, and no way to climb out. Skunked, I walked along the strange doors. It had to be my imagination, but it seemed as if the hall continued for at least a mile. How big was this ship anyway?

  A sense of dread crept into my bones, crawling and poking at me from all angles. The walls pressed in. Watching. Waiting. I glanced over my shoulder, and down either side of the hallway. Clear—as far as my human eyes could see. Was something there, following me?

  I continued walking. A shadow flashed to my left. I screamed, but only a clean, bare wall met my frenzied stare.

  Just my imagination. Why would something be following me anyway? I picked up the pace, though, in case I was wrong.

  I stopped to dab the sweat from my neck. The wall to my left shifted, and a door appeared. Checking each side of the hallway again for my imaginary peeping Tom, I steadied myself and leaned my head in.

  A black table sat in the center of the room. Some kind of purplish-pinkish plant seemed to be growing out of a hole in the surface. Click. I covered my nose to ward off the metallic taint in the air. Weird.

  To the right, a series of indentations formed on the wall while a staticy screen appeared to my left. Was the room reacting to my presence? How bizarre. I shot off a few more pictures and leaned back out of the room

  The melodious sounds of Norwegian people singing echoed up the hallway. I followed. Even if they didn’t speak English, it would be pretty obvious who I was. Hopefully, they could get me back to Nematali.