The Fellowship for Alien Detection (14 page)

“Night sun descending,” the Alto said again. Haley looked over to see him fiddling with something on his other wrist. It looked like a bracelet, a tarnished silver color, and it seemed to have a few objects hanging off it, like charms. It kind of looked like something a girl would wear.

“How do you know about the dreams?” Haley asked. “Were you . . . abducted or something?”

“I'm . . . not sure,” said the Alto. He made his thinking face again, gazing up into his brow. “Something about my last assignment . . .” He trailed off.

“Okay . . .” said Haley. She licked at a coating of powdered sugar and barbecue on her lips. Somewhere back in the dark, they'd stopped at a convenience store. The combination of donuts, chips, and a soy shake had somewhat settled her nerves.

“What do you think it is?” she asked, gazing back at the falling light.

“I don't know,” said the Alto, “but there is someone who does.”

“Keller?” Haley asked.

The Alto chuckled. “No. The other fellowship winner.”

“He knows what the aliens are doing?”

“I don't think so,” said the Alto. “But he knows what that light is, and more importantly, he knows about Juliette.”

“Juliette?” asked Haley. It rang a bell. “Those agents said her name. Do you know who she is?”

“It's not a who, it's a where. And . . .” The Alto made his searching face and sighed with frustration. “That's all I know about it.”

“Why are you keeping things from me?” Haley asked.

“No—that's not what I'm doing. I literally don't remember. Especially about my last assignment, but there are a lot of things in my head that are missing, large parts of my life that are a mystery to me. Things I can't quite piece together. But apparently the other winner's theory had to do with a place called Juliette. And I know that, for me, that's . . . familiar. But I don't know why.”

Haley watched the Alto. She wondered if that could be true. Had he really lost parts of his memory? He'd returned to watching the star fall. And he was still fiddling with that bracelet. “Kerry . . .” he said softly to himself.

“What?” Haley asked.

“Nothing.” The Alto pulled his sleeve down over the bracelet.

The orange ember had nearly reached the horizon. As Haley watched, it descended past the tops of the trees and gently vanished from sight. For another couple seconds, there was an orange corona above it. Then that winked out and the countryside settled into black.

Haley felt the Alto looking at her. “What?”

“You haven't called them yet.” He looked down to where Haley was clutching the phone in her hands.

“Yeah, I'm getting to it.” Haley felt a big nervous rush. She didn't want to think about her parents. Where were they? What were they thinking? How much were they freaking out? She had an urge to just wait until this was all over and rush back into their arms. But that was cowardice. She had to face what she'd done. Her parents were her responsibility now. If she didn't let them know she was okay, then the aliens might as well have gotten her. Of course, in a way, that would have been easier.

“They're not going to like it,” said the Alto, “but not knowing is worse . . . in all things.” He sighed. “Call your parents.”

Haley held the phone up, gazing at it.

“You just press talk,” said the Alto.

“Der,” said Haley. She held her breath . . . then pressed. It rang twice.

“Hello?” Allan answered, breathless and confused.

“Dad, it's me,” said Haley. She tried to make her voice sound normal, tried to keep the rising tremors that were wracking her body at bay. “I'm okay . . . A-are you?”

“Now that we hear your voice, yes, but Haley—”

“Dad, I'm sorry. . . . I had to go . . .” Haley choked up.

“Haley!! It's okay, just . . . where are you? Whose phone is this? Are you all right? What just happened?”

“Dad, listen . . . I . . .” Haley tried her best to speak calmly. “I'm with Keller's agent. His name is the Alto. He rescued me back there. It was a Missing Time Event . . . You won't remember it, but check the clocks once you're—”

“Haley, I know about the missing time!” Allan was practically shouting. “I checked my watch. We're still here. Your mom had just gotten a call from Alex Keller when the missing time happened, but now our phones are wiped out so we couldn't call her back. The police are here though, and we told them you're missing and now the FBI is on its way and they are issuing an Amber Alert and . . . Haley, we are looking everywhere for you!” He sounded desperate, frayed, and Haley could barely stand to hear it.

“That's good,” said the Alto quietly. “Police, FBI. That will help keep them safe enough.”

Haley heard Allan cup the phone for a second and then he returned. “Sorry, Haley, listen . . . just tell me where you are.”

Haley wanted to, but she could see the Alto shaking his head out the corner of her eye. “Dad, I can't. But don't worry. I—I'm safe,” she said, wondering if she really was. “And I'm—I'm going to be gone for a little while. This agent is taking me to find the other fellowship winner.”

“Taking you?! What are you talking about, Haley?!”

“Tell them to drive west,” said the Alto. “To head for Phoenix.” Then he pointed toward the sky. “Before they trace the call.”

“How do you know this agent is—”

“Dad!” Haley had to cut him off. Dad was asking a million questions and Haley could barely listen. She felt herself knotting up inside, tears leaking free, the tremors out of control. “Dad, listen, I have to go, this call could be monitored. Look, I'm so sorry. I lied to you guys about the danger we were in with the fellowship. The aliens tried to abduct me tonight, and if I don't go do this, they'll just come again. So I have to go. I have to make things right. The Alto says to head west, toward Phoenix. I'll meet you there.”

“Haley, wait!”

“Tell him to find the vial of disrupters in the glove compartment,” said the Alto. “But not to tell the FBI about those, because they'll just screw them up.” The Alto clucked his tongue. “Amateurs.”

“Who is that talking?” Allan shouted. “Haley, is that him? Is that the—”

“Dad, yes! Just, plee-ase . . .” Haley was crying now; she couldn't help it. Her whole body was shaking. “Just get the vial out of the glove compartment. Wear those disruptors behind your left ears and head west.”

“What vial? Disruptors, what are you talking about?”

The Alto's watch started to beep. “Time's up,” he said.

Haley swallowed hard. “Dad, listen, I gotta go. It's okay, really, and I love you guys and I don't want you to worry. . . .”

“Haley, no! Are they making you say this?”

“No, not really, I mean, just trust me that I'm okay.”

“Okay, okay,” Allan's voice got low, a desperate whisper: “Haley, th–this man you're with . . . If he's kidnapped you or hurt you, just say something . . . say ‘How's Liam?'”

Haley glanced at the Alto. “I'm sure I'm fine,” she said, hoping it was true. “I gotta go, Dad,” Haley caught a sob, holding her breath until it passed. “I love you.”

She held the phone out in front of her.

“Haley, wait!” Allan shouted from the receiver. “No, don't hang up!”

She couldn't. No, she couldn't hang up, she couldn't go through with this any longer—

The Alto pulled the phone away. He hit End, flipped the phone over, popped off the back, and yanked its guts out. He flung the mess out into the field. “Sorry.” He turned and opened the car door. “We should get going.”

Haley swiped at her eyes. Took a deep breath.

“See?” said the Alto. “Better.”

“No,” Haley whispered. It wasn't better. It was maybe worse.

Haley felt her bag moving. She looked down to see that the Alto had removed her phone.

“What are you doing?” she snapped.

“Any calls or messages you send can be traced.” He had already flipped open the back.

“Don't—” Haley began.

The Alto pulled a chip free in the back and tossed it into the night. He held out the phone. “Camera will still work.”

“Great,” said Haley. And then she realized she hadn't thought to take a picture of the falling light.
Some journalist you are
, the doubt demon scolded.
Yeah, well, I've had a lot on my mind
.

The Alto hopped off the roof. “Let's roll,” he said.

Haley slid off the car and got in. She slumped in the cold vinyl seat. The Alto gunned the engine, wheeled the car around, and shot off down the black road. Haley noticed a plastic hula girl bobbing on the dashboard, smiling at her.

She stared out the window, crushed, squeezed dry and wondering if this could really possibly be the right thing to do. Sure, she'd just seen the falling light, connecting the dreams to the mines. It was all real, everything she'd uncovered, the whole giant story. . . .

But now it felt different. Her anxious yearning to find new map, to get out over the horizon, to not be held back . . . Well, here she was and instead of the pure kind of wind-in-your-face exhilaration that she thought it would be, this was something new: She felt alone, small, an insignificant speck in an enormous universe.

Haley shivered, wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She had no idea what came next, and all she could see were the cones of headlights on pavement, the black of unknown countryside, and the flicker of a billion stars, worlds away.

Juliette, AZ, April 25, 6:45 a.m.

Suza Raines was getting suspicious. As her alarm clock blared, she lay in bed, eyes still closed, thinking:
It's too early. The clock is wrong
. She wiggled her shoulders, nudging the covers up over her head. Just a few more minutes of sleep . . .

But now she noticed the strange music coming from the clock. This wasn't KJPR. Trumpets squealed and strings warbled. It sounded kind of like that Billie Holiday music her dad liked to listen to, except this gobbling voice was male, and definitely not singing English:

Chaque jour je me réveille et c'est pareil
,

Je ne peut pas se comprendre de ce que j'ai perdu

The clock looked weird, too. Not just because it was a boxy old digital with red numbers and fake wood sides—her dad thought the big numbers would be good for her to see when she woke up, before she could put on her glasses—but also because the numbers were wrong, somehow.

This is it
, she thought,
I'm finally going blind
. Suza sat up and shook her head.
No, stupid. I'm just tired
. That was probably it. She'd taken advantage of Dad and Angie being out late last night and stayed up watching TV and guzzling diet root beers and munching barbecue chips. Late-night TV watching was the absolute only good thing about having Angie around: Otherwise, Suza didn't like her one bit.

She felt the same way about morning. Wanted nothing to do with it. How annoying was morning, anyway? Night was way better. It always felt just a little wild, like if you stayed awake long enough, you could almost make the next morning never come. Hang on to the same day forever.

The day that happens over and over
, she thought randomly.

Suza grabbed her glasses from her bedside table, slipped them on, and looked back at the clock. Well, she wasn't going blind. Not today, anyway. The numbers on the clock were definitely messed up, like some of the digital bars were on the fritz. It looked like nonsense:

So, at least one of those odd thoughts that kept popping into her head was wrong. Although, her fear of going blind had felt different than those other two thoughts, about the time being wrong and the day happening over and over. Those had seemed more . . .
certain
.