Extraterrestrial Refugees
Chapter Eleven

Being out of the vessel and away from the congestion of people was liberating, even if Mars’ atmosphere was not conducive to human life. Every day Vance explored a new area; the unknown was invigorating. The hazards did not scare him. He would rather perish out in the wilderness than deteriorate on the ship with all the others.

No progress had been made in repairing the ship’s main power supply line, or its communications system. Teams worked tirelessly on both, day and night. A worrisome thought was generally accepted by the thousands of souls stranded there: all the vessels had already passed Mars and not a single one of them had seen the distress beacon. Hope that they were ever going to make it off the desert planet was dwindling. That dwindling hope did, however, transform into motivation to figure out another solution.

Vance had no intention of becoming a leader. He much preferred staying in the background—his comfort zone—left to his own devices. And yet, now he was head of an entire team of people desperate to do something. Engineers, mechanics, computer scientists, climatologists, physiologists—people of every specialty one could imagine gathered out front of the ship every morning, ready to put in a full day of work.

Vance’s bunkmate and friend Ned was overseeing the engineering aspects of their ambitious project. Using some small rocks, he weighed down a plan that was sketched on a large piece of packing paper. He and Vance stood over it, looking down at the plans for a two-thousand square foot dome. “We now have all the elements needed to mechanize this thing,” Ned said, “but they’re saying we’re going to need a way to seal the air in so that it doesn’t leak from where the fore shield hits the ground.”

“What’s their suggestion?” Vance asked. “Because I would think concrete—”

“That’s what they’re saying,” Ned said. “But in order to make cement, you need—”

“Water,” Vance finished. Ned nodded.

“Among other things.”

“Lime, silica, sand. I’m sure we could replace those, or decent substitutes.”

“We can’t expect to take any water from the vessel. It will throw off the entire system.”

Vance didn’t like to spend to much thought on the ‘system.’ He knew all water went through cycles of evaporation and condensation over and over again. All the water that made up his body had once been a part of another, possibly even several others—human or animal. Nature had a beautiful filtration system that was effective and out of sight, therefore out of mind. On the vessel, however, it would’ve been impossible to pack enough water for everyone to last a full two years, so a delicate filtration system was developed, one that tried to mimic nature. Today’s shower water would be tomorrow’s drinking water. And although the water passed through several steps in the filtration process—including UV light purification—it made Vance gag to think about.

He squatted down and took up a handful of the dry dirt. “Taking some of the waste out to enliven this soil wouldn’t hurt the system though. Remind me to inquire about doing that,” he said.

“Yes, I’m sure the greenhouses don’t need all of it,” Ned agreed. Vance stood up again.

“So, water. There are evidences that Mars had water at one point.”

“Yes, the majority of the surface water has evaporated out into space though. But there’s ice on the polar ice caps. Perhaps it could be gathered and melted?”

Vance nodded. “And contained in the bubble so as not to evaporate into space?” He was no scientist, but he felt like he was starting to understand more and more about how the environment worked. He gave the ground two quick stomps and watched through the window of his space suit as the cloud of dust it generated was wisped away. “And underground?”

“There’s a good possibility there is some down there, yes. But well-digging equipment was not on the vessel’s packing list.”

“We have hands, do we not? And basic tools?”

“Well, yeah. But if there’s water down there, it’s probably way down there. It will take a lot of time.”

Vance shrugged. “We don’t have anything better to do.” He looked off into the horizon. “How far do you think the ice caps are?”

“They have to be pretty far, I’d guess, and there’s no way to get there.”

“But there is.”

“Are you thinking about the emergency escape pods?”

Vance nodded.

“They’ll never let you borrow one of them.” In preparing the vessels for the long voyage through space, the developers knew it would be wise to include some means of an emergency escape. Each vessel was loaded with ten state-of-the-art escape pods. The capacity was minimal—only a few hundred souls would be able to be saved. They did not know how it would be decided who would or wouldn’t be saved if such an occasion should arise. The majority of passengers were not aware that there were not enough escape pods.

Vance grumbled. “Those fools should be sending one of them to Earth to get us help.”

“Maybe they will.”

Vance tapped his chin with the side of his index finger. “Maybe they’re just waiting for volunteers.”

* * *

Gemma sat across from the investigator in the interrogation room, bored and irritated. For the past two hours, she had been ruthlessly drilled—asked the same questions she had already answered multiple times. Her answers hadn’t varied in the least bit; she figured that had to count for something.

“An agent from the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services is here to speak with you,” the investigator said. He left the room and a woman wearing a pale gray suit walked in. She held a manilla folder under her arm. She sat down and laid the folder on the table.

“Hello, Gemma. My name is Hailee Garth,” she flashed the nametag clipped to her lapel, “I’m an immigration agent. I just wanted to discuss some of the implications of your arrival in the United States.” She flipped open the folder to reveal a stack of forms. “You see, there’s a whole process behind immigrating to this country.”

Gemma bobbed her head. “I do know that.”

“Everyone on your, er, spaceship should fill out these forms.” She tapped the stack of papers on the table three times then handed them over to Gemma. “Preferably online. I’m assuming you and your people have internet access?”

Gemma scanned over the page. “Uh, yes—yes. we do.”

“Perfect. If you’re really refugees, then you’ll need to apply for asylum.”

Gemma fingered through the pages.

“I know that seems like a lot, but I’m actually trying to help you. It’ll be one less thing for all of you to be in trouble for.” Her eyes winced closed when she smiled.

“How long will it take for you to process six billion of these?”

Hailee let out a burst of laughter, then stopped abruptly. “Oh…you’re serious? Right. Now I am remembering the president saying you had told him six billion were coming.” She shook her head. “I mean, that’s insane. It’d take…years. Probably a lifetime. There are really six billion of you? But there are already eight billion of us here. You really think the world can support fourteen billion people?”

“I know it can. And we’d like to prove it to you.”

Hailee clicked her tongue. “Well, I’d like to see it. Either way, get to work on filing those forms and all the required documents.” She stood up. “We’ll be in contact with you. Have a nice day.”

Gemma watched Hailee leave the room, then the investigator returned. He sat down and stared at the table for a few seconds. “Your DNA results are in, by the way. It doesn’t match any in the whole world. You’re not European, or African, or Native American. It’s totally unique.” He looked up at Gemma and raised an eyebrow. “It does match one in our classified database.”

“One in Area 51, am I right?” Gemma asked. The man straightened his lips.

“That’s classified.” He drummed on the table. “Anyhow, you’re free to go.” He pushed his chair back and stood up. Gemma just sat, watching him.

“Wait, what? Just like that?” she asked, disbelieving. There had to be a catch.

“You should expect to attend immigration court. Also, should the owner press charges for trespassing, you could be summoned to court. But, I’ve heard he’s not going to. In fact, he’s selling tickets to get tours of your ship.”

“Yes, I saw that on the news.”

“Maybe you’ll see me there. I’m curious what that thing looks like on the inside. Is it kind of like a cruise ship?”

Gemma shrugged. “That’s what Oscar kept saying.”

“Oscar? Oh, right… the Pentagon guy. He’s been relentless, trying to call you every day. Asking for visitations. Did you brainwash him?”

Gemma knew the man was joking; she hoped the stern look she gave him made it clear she did not replace his joke amusing.

“Ah, you didn’t need to. He’s bewitched by your beauty, as much of the world is. You have a lot of sympathizers out there, you know. I’m guessing that’s why you’re being released. There are some nasty rumors going around right now—rumors the president can’t afford right now.” The man straightened up and smoothed his neck tie. “Oh, you should also expect some repercussions for hacking our communications. That’s considered terrorism.”

“Sorry. We would not have done it had we felt it wasn’t necessary. We had to protect ourselves.”

“It was a serious violation.”

“I apologized.”

“Saying sorry doesn’t fix everything.” He tapped on the door. It buzzed and he pushed it open. Two guards stood there ready to escort Gemma. “We may be done here for today, but I suspect we’ll be seeing you here again soon.”

Gemma stood up slowly with a guard on either side of her. “I certainly hope not.”

Oscar paced along the chain link fence in front of the detention center, twirling the key of his rental vehicle on his middle finger. If his boss knew he was there, he would most definitely lose his job. He was meant to be at ground zero, not in Albuquerque. He caught people watching him from their vehicles several times. He suspected they had to be paparazzi. Gemma’s location must have been leaked. He hoped they weren’t dangerous; he hoped he be able to protect her.

When Gemma was finally escorted out of the door and through the fence gate, he could not refrain—he jogged up and hugged her. It was meant to be a quick one to make up for the one he denied her in the interrogation room, but Gemma clung to him. She trembled in his arms. “I’m so relieved you’re here,” she whispered.

Oscar’s eyes wandered back to the parking lot. As he suspected, several cameras were pointed at them. He could hear them clicking. “Gemma, we got to go,” he said softly into Gemma’s ear.

Gemma withdrew and wiped the corners of her eyes. “Sorry. Sorry,” she whispered. Oscar reached out and rubbed her upper arm.

“Hey, it’s okay. No need to apologize,” he said. “It’s just… we’re being watched.”

Gemma glanced around them. “By whom?”

“I don’t know. Probably the paparazzi. I’m sure the royals are happy to have a break from them,” Oscar said with a chuckle. It was clearly Gemma didn’t fully understand his joke. “Really though, they’re obnoxious. They’ve been on my tail for days.”

“Suppose that’s my fault…sorry.” Gemma looked up at the evening sky and blinked back tears. “I feel like such an idiot.”

“What in the world for?” Oscar asked/

Gemma took a quivering breath. She held out a hand. “I can’t stop shaking. That was so terrifying. I know I told you I wasn’t afraid. Obviously, that was a lie.” She managed a small smile. “I’m so grateful to you. Thanks for being my only friend on Earth.”

“I’m not your only friend,” Oscar protested.

“Oh, right. The man in there said I have a lot of sympathizers.”

“No, not just the sympathizers. I mean your friends on the ship. They’ve been very worried about you. Clarence especially. He’s been calling me multiple times a day.”

Gemma placed a hand over her heart and smiled. “I hope I didn’t cause him too much worry. That delays recovery.”

Oscar smiled and placed a hand on Gemma’s back. “Let’s just say he’ll be very relieved to see you.” He pushed on her ever so gently to direct her in the way of his car. He was grateful and relieved that the paparazzi seemed to be staying with their vehicles. He’d been worried they were going to swarm them. The shiny Jeep glinted in the sunset. It had cost him a fortune to get. Indeed, he was lucky to obtain one at all. Most of the four-wheel drive vehicles had already been snatched up by all the hooligans trying to head out into the desert to meet the aliens.

“I didn’t expect to see you here. I had no idea what I was going to do or where I was going to go.”

“I made a lot of phone calls to make sure I’d be here. My boss won’t be too happy when he replaces out.”

“If he replaces out,” Gemma said giving Oscar a sideways glance and a wink.

“True,” Oscar sighed.

“Can I be blunt with you?”

“Uh…sure.”

“I feel like you let your boss control your life.”

Oscar let out a small chuckle. “Isn’t that what bosses are for?” As they walked across the blacktop, he was grateful the sun was dipping behind the distant mountains. When he had arrived earlier that afternoon, the sun was brutal. The parking lot wasn’t like the ones at malls and shopping centers with beautifully landscaped concrete planters, so there were no trees to offer any shade.

“I don’t think so. As long as you’re doing your job, then what right do they have to control your life?”

“Well, that’s the problem.” Oscar pointed the key at the jeep and pressed the unlock button. “I’m not exactly doing my job. Like I said, I’m not supposed to be here.”

“And, like I said, I’m glad you are.”

Oscar opened the door for her and held a hand out, gesturing for her to climb in. He closed the door for her once she was seated and walked around the front of the car, glancing at his phone to check the time. He climbed into the car, closed the door, buckled his seatbelt, started the engine, and quickly rolled down the windows to let out the hot air that was trapped inside.

He looked over at Gemma. “Unfortunately, it’s about a six-hour drive from here back out to where your ship is.” He put a hand on his stomach. “I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast though and I’m starving.”

“Me too. The food in there was horrible. Not to mention I couldn’t eat most of it.”

“Oh, right—because you’re vegan.”

“Yes, they didn’t seem to cater to that at all.”

“Sorry about that. Let’s go replace you something that you can eat.” Oscar pulled out his phone and started searching for places that served vegan food.

Real food—it was amazing. Gemma savored every bite. It was all so fresh and bursting with flavor. “This is all so good,” she said. Oscar finished chewing and swallowing the big bite he had just taken of his falafel wrap.

“It actually is really good,” he said with a grin. “I have to be honest—I had my doubts. The last time I tried vegan food was when my ex-girlfriend made it for me. And it was…nasty.”

Gemma chuckled; it was music to Oscar’s ears. “Is that why she’s your ex now?”

“Could’ve had something to do with it,” Oscar said with a grin.

“So, any current girlfriend? If yes, I hope she’s a better cook—vegan or not.”

Oscar shook his head. “Nope. No girlfriend. Haven’t made much time for dating.”

Gemma raised an eyebrow. “You should. Life is short.”

“Hey, my mom already reminds me of that—mostly because she wants grandkids—so I don’t need you doing it, too.”

“Your mom seems like a very caring person.”

Oscar nodded as he tore off a piece of pita and tossed it into his mouth. “She is. Probably the most caring person I’ve ever met.”

Gemma smiled. “Cherish her.” She cleared her throat then took another bite of her food. She then took a sip of Pepsi, which Oscar insisted was a true American beverage. She frowned and squinted as the carbonation tickled her nose. She found it disgusting. Four sips later, that hadn’t changed. She stood up from the table. “Can I ask him for some water instead?”

Oscar looked up at her. “You don’t like the Pepsi?”

“Not in the least.” Gemma spit the tip of her tongue out. “And right now it’s still a novelty for me to drink water knowing it’s not recycled shower water.”

“Ha, right. I’ll grab you some water. You sit down.” Oscar jumped to his feet and joined the short queue at the counter.

Gemma grabbed a fry and popped it into her mouth. It was oily and salty; she could tell it was horrible for her, but it tasted good. She watched as a middle-aged woman timidly approached her. “Excuse me,” she quietly said, “but aren’t you that…that…that alien woman? Gemma?”

Gemma shifted in her seat and looked toward Oscar, who watched her with a concerned expression on his face. Gemma looked back at the woman. “Yes, I am.”

The woman’s hands flew up to her mouth and she gasped. “I knew it. My husband didn’t believe me. But I recognized your face. You’re insanely beautiful.”

“Oh, well thank you. That’s a very kind thing to say.”

“I always thought aliens, if they were real, were green creatures with giant brains and huge eyes.” She made circles with her hands and held them over her eyes. “Never would’ve thought they’d be humans just like us. Well, I mean, significantly more beautiful than us. Assuming all of you are as beautiful as you are.”

Gemma laughed uncomfortably. The woman glanced down at her nearly empty plate.

“So, are you vegan?”

“Yes. We all are. It’s just so much more sustainable.”

“Yes! That’s what I’m constantly telling my husband.” She put a hand on her chest. “I’ve been vegan for twenty-two years. He’s still dragging his feet.” The thin woman turned to the queue. “Hey, Gerald! It is the alien woman. I was right!”

Gerald turned around, wide-eyed, as did every other customer in the small restaurant. Gemma smiled at all of them, but wished she could disappear.

“In my restaurant?” the man behind the counter boasted. He had a big smile on his face. “Can I take a picture?”

“You should!” the woman exclaimed. “She said all the aliens are vegan. This would be great publicity for your restaurant.”

Oscar held up his hands and shook them. “No, no, no,” he said as he scurried back over to Gemma. “No pictures. Please. We actually need to go. Can I get a couple boxes for this?”

“Yes, of course,” the man behind the counter said.

“And a water, please,” Oscar added.

The situation was quickly escalating. All the customers were staring and gossiping through the corners of their mouths. Some of them asked questions in raised voices: “Where did you come from?”

“Did it really take two years to get here?”

“Are you single?”

Gemma answered a few questions while Oscar hurriedly boxed up the food. He put a hand defensively on Gemma’s back as he ushered her out of the restaurant and back to the car. Several people snapped photos through the windows with their phones. Oscar backed out of his parking space and sped out of the parking lot. He seemed to relax a bit once they were driving down the highway.

Oscar let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry about that back there. Things were just getting a little crazy. Please, finish your food. I was worried people were going to recognize you.”

“Yes… I mean, I did broadcast my face to the entire planet, so it’s not too surprising,” Gemma said. She flipped open the box that contained her food.

“It’s just a little nerve-racking. There’s no saying how people are going to react to you.”

“You mean you’re worried they might shoot again?”

“It’s a very possible reaction. Perhaps not so much a concern in a vegan restaurant, but everywhere else… You never know where you could run into someone who wants you guys gone… Or dead. In fact, we should probably hire a bodyguard or two for you.”

“You are my bodyguard.”

“That’s flattering, but no I’m not. I’m not trained or licensed.”

“But you are armed.”

“Well, yes, but…” Oscar shook his head. He flicked his gaze to his box of food. “You going to eat mine too, or do I get it?”

Gemma opened the box and handed it to him.

“I know I’m going to make a mess of this while driving, so, sorry.” He picked up his wrap. Several slices of cucumber and tomato tumbled down onto his lap. “You guys probably have self-driving flying cars back home so this isn’t an issue.”

“No, not flying.”

“No flying cars? Are they at least self-driving?”

“Yes. Well, mostly. They run on rails. Kind of like a roller coaster.”

“Really? Huh. That’s interesting.”

“It’s very efficient. And safe. And fast.”

“I love roller coasters, but I was excited to be driving around in flying cars in the future.”

“Maybe you still will. Who knows.” She looked over at Oscar, smiling. His eyes shifted between her and the road.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“It’s just so nice to have someone to talk to,” Gemma happily sighed. “They kept me completely isolated there. After two years of being tightly packed into a ship with thousands of people, you can only imagine how lonely it was.” She dug through the takeout bag and pulled out a crumpled napkin. “And you’ve got something on your face. I’ll get it for you.” She wiped a smear of hummus off his cheek.

“Thanks,” Oscar said.

“No problem. It’d be a shame to get in an accident because you were too distracted wiping a bit of hummus off of your face.”

That’s not what would’ve been the distraction, Oscar thought. He found it hard not to look at her. The beauty of her face drew him in like the beauty of dancing flames or crashing waves. She had to be looked at and admired. It was dark now and they were driving on a small highway in a rural area. Every time another car came from the opposite direction, Oscar had to watch how the headlights illuminated Gemma’s face, exposing her beauty for the flash of a second.

“I suppose I’ll need to learn how to drive one of these if we’re going to live here,” Gemma commented.

“It’s fairly easy. You seem to be a fast learner, so I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it real quick. If you can learn…what was it? Five languages? Then you can definitely learn how to drive a car,” Oscar said. He wanted to offer to teach her himself, however, there was no really knowing if they would be anywhere near each other in the very near future.

“Who taught you to drive?”

“I took driver’s ed in school, but it was mostly my dad.” He chuckled a little. “It always freaked mom out way too much to drive with us when we were learning. In the beginning she’d just be sitting over there squeezing the armrest and pushing her feet against the floor. And I believe she had her eyes squeezed shut the majority of the time as well.”

“Sounds like how I’m going to be when I’m a mom,” Gemma said with a laugh. “Poor woman. And how many times did she have to go through that?”

“I have three siblings, so four times. She survived it though! And I’d say we’re all decent drivers. With the exception of my youngest brother. He’s supposed to wear glasses when he drives, but he forgets most of the time. It’s a miracle he hasn’t killed anyone yet.”

Oscar and Gemma laughed together. They were silent for a moment, with static from the radio buzzing quietly; they had driven out of range of the station that Oscar had been listening to earlier in the day. Oscar tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “So have you and your fiancé—I’m sorry, but I can’t remember his name right now, so you’ll have to tell me again—”

“Vance.”

“—right, yeah…Vance. Have you and Vance talked about kids?”

“Yes, of course. On our first date, actually. Both of us are keen on having a family.”

“That’s fun.”

“You come from a pretty big family. You must be planning on having your own someday too, I’d imagine.”

Oscar rocked back and forth, not only to answer Gemma’s question, but to wake himself up a bit as well. He was starting to feel rather drowsy and they still had a lot of driving to do. Now would’ve been a fantastic time to have a self-driving rollercoaster car. “Got to replace the right girl first though,” Oscar said. “I have way too many friends dealing with the hassles of split custody and all that jazz, so I want to make sure to have kids with the right person.”

“Yes. Good plan.”

“Do you, uh, feel like Vance is the right person?” Oscar asked, fully aware that it was a somewhat odd and deeply personal question to ask, especially since he hadn’t known Gemma for long.

“Oh, I know he is,” Gemma replied.

“May I ask…how?”

“How?” said Gemma.

“Yeah, because, you see, I’ve been in two…well, I could say two-and-a-half serious relationships where I thought she was possibly the right person. But then things fell apart and we went our separate ways, grateful that we hadn’t had any kids together. So, I’m just curious to hear how you know Vance is the right person.”

Gemma lifted her left shoulder a little bit and then let it fall. “I just kind of know.” She glanced over at Oscar and then back to the road ahead. “We just make an awesome team. We work great together.”

“How do you know that?”

“Wow, you’re getting really specific here, huh?”

Oscar held out a hand and gestured at the road. “We’ve still got a few hours to drive, so we gotta talk about something. Unless you want to sleep. Because you can also do that.”

“I am struggling to keep my eyes open, but that doesn’t seem fair for me to be snoozing away over here while you have to stay awake to drive. I keep having to remind myself that it isn’t driving itself, and I have to thank you in advance for getting me safely there.”

“Oh, don’t thank me yet—we still haven’t gotten there.”

“But we will. I believe in you.”

Oscar hesitated for a few seconds, but then let the question fly: “Why?” he said. Gemma rolled her eyes.

“Because I just do!” she said through a chuckle. “Man! Don’t you ever just trust your instincts?”

“Men are often told not to trust our instincts because they often get us into trouble.”

“Right, because they might make you feel invincible and you’ll therefore do something stupid like jump off a cliff.”

“Yep. Exactly.”

“Oscar!” Gemma shrieked. “I was only kidding.”

“It’s true though. My instincts just say, Hey, go for this girl, she seems great—she’ll never leave you. She’s kind and beautiful and will be an excellent mother to your children. And so I take the plunge only to discover huge boulder’s that I couldn’t see lurking beneath the surface and I just end up floating downstream with a busted back.”

Gemma looked at Oscar empathetically. She reached out, lightly touching his arm with her soft fingertips. “I am so sorry you’ve been through all of that.”

“It’s fine. It was a while ago. Two years, to be exact. Kind of weird thinking about at the time I was going through that nightmarish breakup, you were getting onto a giant spaceship to fly to Earth.” Oscar thumped the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “Anyway, that’s why I’m asking—how do you know there aren’t any boulders beneath the surface that you can’t see?”

Gemma thought for a second. “I guess you don’t. Love and relationships are always going to be at least somewhat of a leap of faith. You just got to hold hands and jump in together. Shield each other from the boulders. Work around the obstacles together as they come.”

Oscar glanced over at her again. “Look at us—we should write a book together. We’ll call it: Cliff-Jumping in Love.”

Gemma laughed again. The sound seemed to fill Oscar’s entire being with joy. She brushed her hair back away from her face. “In all seriousness though, that’s what Vance and I do—we work together when an obstacle arises. Our relationship is so uncomplicated, and it has been from the very beginning. With him, it’s just easy. It comes naturally. We communicate.” She tossed her head back. “And oh, I just miss him so much!”

“I’m sure you do,” Oscar said. He was desperately missing somebody, too—he just didn’t know who yet.

“I can’t wait to replace out if Clarence has heard from him.”

“I’m actually surprised Clarence hasn’t called me again yet. And since you guys don’t use phone numbers like ours, I can’t figure out how to call him back. I just wanted to let him know I have you and that we’re on our way there.”

“He’s probably just busy giving tours of our UFO. I hope that all goes well.”

“I do, too. My tour was awesome. But then again, I did have the best tour guide, so…” He lifted the corned of his mouth into a flirtatious smile. “That’s why I gotta get you back—they need you there giving tours.”

“I’m going to have to leave that to someone else now. I’ve got other things to do.” She blew raspberries. “Like convince the entire world that almost doubling their population over night is going to be just fine. Sure would be nice if Mr. Legend Baxter were willing to help us.”

“Wait, did you actually get to talk to him?”

“I did, but it did no good. He threatened to sue me for slander if I tell everyone he’s one of us.”

“Why in the world would he do that?”

“I don’t know. He says we abandoned him.”

“Wow, that’s dramatic. I’ve never been a big fan of the guy, but that just seems like a very teenagery thing to do. He’s probably just afraid of losing all of his so-called friends if they replace out he’s an alien.”

“I feel like that would only earn him more friends… Or is it not cool to be an alien from space?”

Oscar bit the inside of his lower lip. “I know there are a lot of sympathizers out there, but there are also plenty of haters. You frighten them. Maybe Lgened is afraid he’ll become their next target if they found out he’s one of you. Big Oil already hates him—he can’t be too excited by the prospect of having more enemies.”

Gemma nodded. “See now that, I could understand. But that’s not what he told me at all.” She folded her arms. “He’s just being selfish. And we could really use his help.”

“Didn’t you say there were more?”

“Yes, but they aren’t as prominent. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I don’t even know their names. They’re doing vastly important work, but it’s more behind-the-scenes stuff, like soil restoration and giving more people access to clean water.” Gemma yawned. “I do hope they’ll show up soon as well.” She yawned again.

“You’re tired,” Oscar observed. “You should get some sleep.”

“I’m fine. I’ll stay awake with you.”

“I’m fine. You’ve been through a lot these past few days. So just take a little nap.”

Eventually, he finally persuaded her. Oscar leant her his suit jacket to use as a blanket. Even sleeping with her head back and her mouth ever-so-slightly open, she looked incredibly beautiful. With every second he spent with her, Oscar discovered more and more she was just as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. She was a sheer delight to be around. He had never met anyone quite like her before and knew he would never meet anyone like her again.