Extraterrestrial Refugees
Chapter Eight

The beacon shone into the sky during all hours, but was only noticeable when the sun began setting on Mars. Not chased in by a windstorm, Vance stayed out late. He stared at the pillar of light. His eyes followed the beam up until it faded into the darkness. The hope was that another Tetranese ship would notice the so-called flare and would come to aid them. Hope of being able to give the ship a quick repair was waning. The mechanics worked day and night on the power supply line. Every time they patched part of it up, another part of it frayed. There was talk on the vessel that the entire thing had been shoddily constructed. Someone somewhere had taken shortcuts, and it could cost all of them their lives.

Vance looked into the night sky, searching for any movement. The chances of one of the other vessels spotting their signal for help seemed small. His eyes wandered back down to the growing pile of wreckage he and some of the others had been gathering. Every day more people joined in the effort of gathering and analyzing. They had a design for the atmospheric bubble. They just needed a few more elements to begin experimenting. Vance had asked permission to disassemble one of the escape pods, but his request was denied.

There was a slope behind the ship. It looked to be the spot where the vessel had collided with the rocks. Ned was certain some components of the ship’s force shield had been knocked off and were likely on the other side of the slope. It was a fair distance—one none of them had dared to wander. Vance stood up from his seat on the ramp. It was cold. In his protective suit, he couldn’t feel it, but he could sense it. He had no food nor water. He was alone. It was dark and he was in unfamiliar territory. Knowing full-well how reckless he was being, he took off in the direction of the hill.

* * *

Charles looked displeased as Oscar approached him. No—displeased was an understatement. He looked downright furious. Oscar cleared his throat and smiled slightly. “Good morning, sir.”

Charles, whose arms had been folded tightly against his chest, raised a finger. “I won’t stand for this level of disrespect. I don’t know what sort of deal you’ve made with that girl, but it won’t fly.”

Oscar nodded. “I’m not playing at anything, sir.”

“She’s pretty, good man. Don’t let it get to your head.” Charles poked his forehead with his forefinger. “Now, as I’ve told you, she’s refusing to talk to any of us. You’re the only one she’s agreed to speak to. Wipe that stupid smile off your face. You’re nothing special. For some reason she’s decided to trust you, so we’ve decided to take advantage of it.”

Oscar did feel honored though. Mostly, he was concerned for Gemma’s wellbeing. He had spent the past nearing twenty-four hours worrying about her and hoping they hadn’t been too hard on her.

He was let into the interrogation room, aware that Charles and several others were observing and listening behind a large mirror on the wall. Gemma, seated behind a table, hands cuffed, smiled up at him. “Hello, Oscar,” she greeted. Her eyes were glossy. “I could really use a hug.” Her voice cracked slightly.

Oscar wanted to give her what she wanted, however, he knew it would not be approved. He locked eyes with Gemma and she seemed to understand. He asked her in a whisper if she was okay. She only managed a little nod in reply.

Oscar gestured at the cuffs on her wrists and turned toward the mirror. “Seriously? Can we get these things off her?”

There was no answer. Oscar growled and plopped down onto the chair opposite Gemma. “I’m sorry about that.”

Gemma raised her hands and lowered them again. The cuffs clanked against the table. “They’re not so bad.” She lifted her shoulder to wipe away a small tear.

Oscar tapped his fingers on the table. “How have you been?”

Gemma shrugged. “Lonely. And as much as I’m ashamed to admit it—I’m terrified.” She leaned across the table. “These people are intense.”

“Yes, they take their jobs very seriously.”

“I do respect that. It’s just so much more intimidating when you’re faced with it.”

“Charles told me you weren’t being very cooperative.”

“Yes, sorry about that. I just need to get out of here as soon as possible and I could tell I wasn’t getting anywhere with them. Plus, I need to ask a favor of you.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “A favor?”

“A phone number. I need a phone number.”

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

“I asked them, but they weren’t willing to listen or try.” Gemma leaned back into her chair.

“Whose number are we talking about? The President of the United States’?”

Gemma pursed her lips and shook her head. “No, I’ve already spoken to him.”

“How’d that go?”

Gemma tilted her head to the side. “He kind of freaked out when I told him there were six billion of us.”

“Well, that is a pretty big deal. You have to realize that basically double’s Earth’s population.”

“Of course we realize that. Do you realize that is—was—the population of our planet? And we were fine. Like I told your president, at home nobody was starving. Nobody had to be homeless. Global climate change wasn’t a subject. I told him we were going to show you Earthlings how to sustainably support that number of people.”

“What did he say to that?”

Gemma rolled her eyes and scoffed. “He said it couldn’t be done. That the planet is already overpopulated and overcrowded. But it isn’t. If everyone were willing to make a few minor adjustments…” Her voice trailed off.

“So, then, what did he say? Does he want you to leave?”

“More or less. But it’s not an option. We’ve been voyaging through space for years in search of another place. I know this sounds harsh, but honestly Earth has never been very appealing to us. There’s an overwhelming amount of selfishness and brutality. And the lack of commonsense is…” She looked into Oscar’s eyes. “Sorry. I’ll stop now. I recognize I’m being very offensive and that’s—unbecoming.”

“How did he respond when you told him there were no other options?” Oscar thought about the folded piece of paper in his suit jacket pocket. He had a script he had been instructed to stick to, and he was definitely veering from it.

“He wasn’t interested in hearing it. I don’t get the feeling that he actually believes we’re from another planet. I think he thinks we’re Russians or something.”

“Then what are you going to do?” Oscar scratched the space between his eyebrows. “Start a war?”

“No!” Gemma snapped. “Trust me, if we wanted to take this planet by force, we could’ve and we would’ve a long time ago. War is not our intention.”

“Clearly, seeing as you don’t have any weapons or soldiers aboard your ship.”

“Exactly.”

Oscar leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. “Did you suggest to the president just using Earth as a sort of port to do more space exploration? If it takes you two years just to get here… You get what I’m saying?”

Gemma nodded. “Yes, doing further exploration and using Earth as a base is something we intend on doing. The voyages take years. So, yes, leaving from here would potentially cut two years off of the voyage time.” She took a deep breath. “And I did mention that to your president. He didn’t believe that was really our intention.”

“That must’ve been frustrating for you.”

Gemma leaned forward. “They keep accusing us of trespassing. Which, yes, I understand we are. I would like to ask the owner for permission to stay there. Do you know how we can contact him or her? If not, our researchers can figure it out, I’m sure.”

“Oh, is that the phone number you wanted?”

“No—I mean, yes. But I’d like a different one first.”

“And whose number would that be?”

“Legend Baxter.”

Oscar sat up. “The Legend Baxter?”

Gemma nodded. “I really need to speak with him.”

Oscar chortled in disbelief. “Why?”

“Because… He’s one of us.”

* * *

Gemma paced the length of her cell. The news played on a small screen mounted in the corner. She watched it as she paced. “The White House received this video message from the German chancellor earlier today,” the reporter said. A video was played of a sturdy woman with a strong German accent:

“Germany is prepared to welcome the extraterrestrial refugees. We are ready to do our part, as we have done in the past. We invite them to come here and bring their families. Our arms are opened to them.”

The image returned to the reporter in the studio. “A White House spokesperson has said that the president has been in contact with Gemma, the young woman who appears to be their leader, and he says they intend on bringing six billion people to Earth. This information has caused an uproar. Protests are taking place across the country, both in favor and in opposition to the new arrivals. Several brawls have broken out involving the two groups.”

Watching the clips of the turmoil Gemma’s people had caused filled her with guilt. She had to keep reminding herself that it had long been theorized something like this would happen. Still, to see the images of the violence all caused by their arrival was heart-wrenching. Maybe we shouldn’t have come here. Maybe the meant-to-be-ers were right.

The sound of the cell door unlocking drew Gemma’s eyes away from the television. A correctional officer and a woman in a white lab coat entered the cell. The woman had dark hair that bobbed around her jawline. Her straight bangs lined the black rim of her glasses. A glossy nametag with her picture on it was clipped to the lapel of her lab coat. She cleared her throat. “Hello. I’m here to take your blood.” She said.

Gemma nodded. She had agreed to subject herself to a DNA analysis, hopeful it would help prove that they weren’t from Earth. She sat on a small stool that was fastened to the floor and held out her right arm. “Let’s do this.” Gemma watched the woman set her supplies down on the small desk. She opened her case and began pulling things out. “What’s your name?”

The woman looked shocked. “Oh, I’m Brenda.”

“Nice to meet you, Brenda. I’m Gemma.”

“Yes, I have gathered that,” Brenda said with a grin. “I’m pretty sure the entire world knows your name. Since, you know, you broadcasted it to the entire world.” She wiped the crook of Gemma’s arm with a cold, wet alcohol wipe.

“Have you ever analyzed an alien’s blood before?” Gemma chuckled. Brenda shook her head.

“Well, not this kind of alien.” Her gloved hand flew up in front of her mouth and her eyebrows shot up. She glanced over her shoulder at the guard standing nearby. She looked back at Gemma. “I shouldn’t have said that. Actually, I’m not supposed to talk much at all with the prisoners.”

“Oh, sorry. I don’t mean to make you break the rules.”

“It’s fine. I’m sure you’re feeling a bit lonely and trapped being in here.”

“Lonely, yes. Trapped—not so much. You have to remember I’ve spent the last two years on a space ship.”

Brenda tied a rubber band around Gemma’s upper arm and asked her to make a fist a few times. She ran a finger over Gemma’s plump vein. She smiled at her. “You have nice veins.”

“Thanks,” Gemma said with a chuckle. Brenda pulled out the needle. She paused.

“You seem a little nervous. Have you ever had your blood drawn before?”

“No.” Gemma took a deep breath. “Never had a need to.”

“Really? Wow. That’s impressive.” Brenda held the needle close to Gemma’s skin. “So it’s going to be a bit of a poke. It helps most people if they don’t look at it.”

“Okay.” Gemma looked back up at the TV. The reporter was interviewing a NASA scientist. Gemma bit her lower lip and winced as Brenda inserted the needle.

“Sorry. And I’m going to have to take quite a lot today. They want to check a few different things.”

“Aha, so they are experimenting on me!” Gemma joked. Brenda laughed.

“Pretty much.”

Gemma listened to the NASA scientist speaking: “No. There is absolutely no way that ship originated from Earth.” The man leaned forward in his armchair. “Think about it. The thing’s the size of a football field. Someone, somewhere would’ve noticed it taking off. Not only that, someone would’ve noticed it being built. And then when it was in Earth’s orbit… I mean, give us some credit. There are eyes on the skies all around the globe.”

“So you’re saying it really is an alien space ship?” the reporter asked. The scientist sat back in his chair.

“I’m hesitant to say that. But I will say again, it did not originate from Earth.”

Brenda took another vial of blood and carefully placed it in her case. She grabbed an empty one and attached it to the catheter. “Last one,” she said. Gemma watched the glass vial fill with her crimson blood.

“Can I ask what you think?” Gemma said.

“Hmm?” Brenda raised an eyebrow but didn’t look up from the task at hand.

“About us. What do you think about us?”

“Oh, um…” Brenda stammered. “I think this DNA analysis will tell us a lot. But…” She hesitated. “I do have to tell you, there’s this craziest story in my family about a great aunt of mine.” She stopped to pull the vial off and place it in the case.

“What story?”

“Okay, so, basically, I had this great aunt, and she disappeared. Hold this.”

Gemma pressed down on a square of gauze Brenda had placed over the needle. Brenda pulled out the needle, disposed of it, and started wrapping Gemma’s arm with a red bandage.

“Anyway, she fell in love,” Brenda said in a mocking tone of voice and rolled her eyes. “Sorry. Just got out of a long relationship, so I’m feeling a little bitter about love.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Ugh. It’s fine. He was horrible. Honestly, I’m better off alone than being with a selfish, narcissist like him.”

Gemma bobbed her head. “So your aunt?”

“Yes, my aunt. I need to hurry.” Brenda spoke as she cleaned and gathered everything up. “She claimed the man was an alien from outer space. Nobody believed her. They all said she was crazy. They were about to have her admitted, but that night she disappeared. She left a note—I’ve never seen it, but supposedly it’s still in the family somewhere—and in the note she said she was going to space with the love of her life.”

“No way!” Gemma’s eyes widened. “I was told a similar story when I was selected for this mission. A man was sent to Earth on a research mission, fell in love with an Earth woman, and brought her back home.”

“Are you serious?”

Gemma nodded.

“No… You’re making that up.”

“I’m not. Again, I don’t know how true it is. It was just chit-chat in one of our many conferences.”

“Did they have kids? Do you know?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, if they did, that means some of you could be my cousins!” She closed up her case and lifted it off the desk.

“Wouldn’t that be interesting to replace out?”

“Oh, it’d be amazing. But it’d be quite impossible. I’d have to analyze a lot of DNA.” Brenda smiled. “Well, welcome to Earth, Gemma. And, good luck.”

Gemma put out her hand. Brenda stared at it for a second and then shook it. “Have a nice day, Brenda.”

“Thank you.”

Gemma watched as they left the cell, free to go about their day and live their lives. She envied them.