Invaded Read online

  “That’s one of my favorites, too.”

  “And I told them the old legend—how some say ancient L’eihrs were abducted and transplanted on Earth to form the human race.” She lowered her voice and confided, “I’ve never believed it, but I told the children we were related. They seemed to like that.”

  “I’m glad you were able to bring them happiness.” Aelyx chose his next words with care, not wanting to add to her unease by sounding accusatory. “Do you still believe that their kind isn’t worth saving?”

  For a long time, she didn’t answer. When she did, her voice was a strangled whisper. “It’s not fair. Eron’s killers will live on while these younglings are doomed to die.”

  “No,” Aelyx agreed, “it’s not fair.”

  Syrine covered her face with both palms. “Nothing makes sense here. I want to go home.”

  “I do, too.” He pulled back one of her hands and waited until she looked at him. “But not until we secure the alliance. Don’t you agree?”

  She didn’t say yes, but judging by the way she averted her gaze and hugged her pillow tightly, Syrine had learned a lesson today. That was enough for Aelyx. He stood to return to his supper.

  “Wait,” she called as he turned the doorknob. She propped herself up on one elbow and hesitated to speak. Just when Aelyx thought she might apologize for her behavior last month, she sighed and lay back down. “Thanks for the talk.”

  Aelyx gave a tight nod. “You would do the same for me.”

  Chapter Six

  “Aelyx isn’t answering.”

  Cara stuffed her com-sphere beneath pillow number nine and resisted the urge to jut out her bottom lip. She always called Aelyx before he went to bed—it was the only time they were both awake and she had a minute to spare. By the time she finished all her classes, extra duties, and barf-inducing exercises, she’d fall into a coma until morning. Now she understood why the L’eihr crime rate was so low. Everyone was too exhausted for shenanigans.

  The top bunk shifted above Cara’s head, and Elle’s dainty four-toed feet dangled into view. After a long yawn, she said, “Perhaps his sphere is malfunctioning. It happens sometimes. I’ve had mine refurbished twice.”

  “I could try reaching him on Syrine’s sphere, but she’d probably chuck it out the window before taking a call from me.” Cara caught herself rubbing her cheek, where Syrine had once slapped her.

  “I’m no help to you there.” Elle hopped to the floor and joined Cara on the bottom bunk, where she sat cross-legged, her loose hair spilling over both shoulders. She looked so human first thing in the morning. “She hasn’t spoken to me since Eron asked me to be his l’ihan.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” Cara had forgotten the two were once besties. “You loved the same boy.” Few friendships could withstand the dreaded BFF love triangle. Cara knew firsthand. “My best friend started dating my ex as soon as we broke up. They snuck around behind my back for weeks and made me feel like an idiot. We’re speaking again, but it’s not the same.”

  “Friendships evolve,” Elle said clinically. “And often fade. It’s the natural order of things.” And just like that, their girl-talk ended. “Let’s get to work. We don’t have long.”

  Cara groaned. She didn’t want to practice Silent Speech anymore. What was the point? Her mind was physiologically different from the L’eihrs, so she’d probably never master the art.

  “Are you getting headaches again?” Elle asked.

  “No, but between this and my classes, I go to bed each night feeling like I’ve given birth from my brain.”

  “Think of your mind as a muscle,” Elle lectured. “It will—”

  “Grow stronger with use,” Cara parroted. Since resistance was futile, she might as well cooperate. “Okay. Same drill as before?”

  “No. Let’s try something new.” Elle shook back her hair and leaned forward to meet Cara’s gaze. “Show me how you feel, then use your words to tell me what we’re having for breakfast.”

  Cara completed her first task in less than a minute. She noticed it didn’t take as long as it had last week to channel her frustration into Elle’s mind. In that respect, she’d improved. But when she tried to say t’ahinni, Elle heard nothing.

  “Don’t be discouraged,” Elle said. “You’re making progress. I understand your emotions more clearly than before. You feel defeated, but also curious.” Her forehead wrinkled in thought. “And you’re suspicious, but I don’t know why or of whom.”

  Cara lowered her voice to a whisper. “Something’s been bugging me. You know that meteorite everyone’s been talking about—the one that crashed my Sh’ovah?”

  “What of it?”

  “It wasn’t a rock. I’m pretty sure it was man-made.” Aside from Cara, no one had caught a glimpse of the object. “I saw metal and lights, then Jaxen covered it with his cloak.”

  Elle considered for a moment. “I’ve observed reflective matter in space debris, some of it metallic. Could that explain what you saw—sunlight glinting off the mineral deposits?”

  “I don’t think so.” But Cara couldn’t be certain, and that’s what drove her crazy. “Why would Jaxen bother to hide a worthless chunk of rock?”

  Elle’s troubled expression showed she agreed, though she didn’t say so. “Can you summon the image and share it with me?”

  In theory, that was a great idea. In practice, however…“I’ve never tried that.”

  “The process is similar to sharing emotions. Close your eyes and form a picture in your mind. Wait until it’s clear before you connect with me.”

  Cara did exactly as her roommate instructed, but it didn’t work. No surprise there. If she wanted answers, it seemed she’d have to find them herself. No surprise there, either.

  “Cah-ra Sweeney.”

  At the sound of her name, Cara glanced up from her tablet at the science teacher who stood at the front of the classroom glaring at her. He’d spent the last thirty minutes speaking L’eihr, so she’d decided to catch up on a few chapters of history—clearly a mistake.

  She set her tablet in her lap. “Yes, Instructor Helm?”

  “You just missed my demonstration of h’ylo reproduction.” He shook a fuzzy brown thing at her that looked like a rotten kiwi. “What captivating topic has lured you away from my lecture?”

  Jaxen and Aisly, along with every other student on the long wooden bench in front of Cara, turned to study her. Most of them couldn’t speak English, but Helm’s disapproving tone must have said enough to pique their interests. Dahla seemed especially pleased as she smirked from her assistant’s place beside the instructor.

  Cara wiped both palms on her tunic. Truthfully, she’d been reading her favorite thesis, a brand-new one that argued L’eihrs were the descendants of humans, not the other way around. If you asked her, the evidence was compelling. The only reason L’eihrs clung to the original legend was because they’d rather amputate all eight toes than trace their lineage to Earth.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “It was an essay.”

  “On?” Helm demanded, gripping his waist with one hand.

  Cara glanced at her tablet and read aloud, “‘The Primate Connection: A Thesis—’”

  “‘Regarding L’eihr Lineage,’” Helm finished. “Written by a scholar named Larish. He argued that L’eihrs are related to your ancients, who in turn evolved from animals.”

  “Exactly,” Cara said. “Humans and L’eihrs share ninety-eight percent of their DNA with chimpanzees. Earth scientists believe we all descended from a single ancestor and developed differently over millions of years. But on L’eihr, you have no close primates. It’s as if you were dropped here by an alien race. You evolved differently from humans, but that’s mostly due to organized breeding and—”

  “A fascinating theory,” Helm interrupted. A tiny muscle twitched in his jaw. “Are you in humanities class now?”

  Cara cleared her throat. “No, sir.”

  “And will Larish’s dissertation help
you with my exam tomorrow?” He pointed to his white-rimmed instructor tablet, where he kept his lectures and testing materials.

  “No, sir.”

  “Then perhaps you should make use of your translator and focus on the subject at hand.”

  Cara nodded, willing herself invisible.

  But understanding the language didn’t help her absorb Helm’s lesson. His words—genetic port, reverse micro-sequencing, inverted bioethnicity—had no context for her. It was like trying to decipher gibberish. Cara hated to admit it, but she didn’t belong in this class. She needed to take a massive step back and master the prerequisites of L’eihr science. Too bad she’d have to join the preschoolers to do that.

  An idea came to mind.

  Maybe she should request a rotation working in the Aegis nursery. She’d pick up some basic concepts that way, and besides, she felt sorry for all those motherless kids, taken straight from the artificial wombs to a quasi-orphanage. They were so darned cute, and she wanted to snuggle the toddlers when their caretakers weren’t looking.

  After class, she jogged to the headmaster’s office to fill out a rotation request and then double-timed it to the novice obstacle course, relieved to discover she’d made it there before the fitness instructor. The man had a name, but Cara preferred to think of him as Satan. He loved making her suffer. Pain is good, he’d told her. If no hurt, you do it wrongly. Satan didn’t speak very good English, but he was fluent in whoop-ass. He wore his ponytail extra tight and probably flogged himself for fun.

  “Sweeeeeney.”

  Speak of the devil, and he shall appear…from behind a climbing wall. She hadn’t beaten him here. Fabulous. That meant an extra lap. At least no one would be around to watch her stumble over the balance stones and yack in the bushes. The other clones had long ago graduated to proficient courses.

  “Today we try new technique,” he said, rubbing his massive palms together. “Make you win time and move to intermediate course.” He patted his tunic pocket. “I fasten t’alar on your shoulders. Make you fast.”

  Unless he had a jet pack in there, she didn’t see how that was possible. “Is the t’alar an antigravity device?”

  “No.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a simple black strap. Then he smiled in a way she didn’t like at all. “Is motivation.”

  That didn’t sound good.

  “Human lung,” he continued, “it hold less air, yes? But still the body do great things when provoked.” He lumbered over to her and snapped the t’alar across her shoulders like a handgun holster. “You run course, and I watch from above.” He pointed to a small platform built into the trees. “To keep time. When you need boost, I do this.” Then he clapped his hands loud enough to make her jump.

  At first, Cara didn’t understand. But when a jolt of electricity ricocheted down the length of her spine, she yelped and nearly wet herself. The t’alar was a torture device? Holy crap, he really was the devil! “You’re going to make me run faster by shocking me?”

  Satan shrugged. “Eh, we try.” Without giving her a chance to reason with him, he pointed at the climbing wall. “Now begin,” and he followed with a clap.

  Zzzttt!

  Another sharp current shot through Cara, and she lurched toward the wall like a marionette that’d had her strings pulled too hard. “Oh my God,” she whimpered as she grabbed the first hold. “This is so messed up.” But she didn’t stop. After reaching the top, she scaled down the other side and set off at a sprint the instant her feet touched solid ground.

  The balance stones came next—two dozen round slabs set one stride apart in zigzag fashion, each designed to tilt thirty degrees in all directions. She leaped onto the first stone with her right foot, crouching low to distribute her weight, then immediately jumped to the second and third. With each rapid leap to and fro, she made her thighs do all the work and kept her arms extended for balance. She didn’t hesitate or second-guess herself like before. She cleared her mind and let her body take the wheel. Before she knew it, she’d reached the last stone and jogged around the bend toward the impact bags.

  Zzzttt!

  Correction: she sprinted around the bend toward the impact bags, veering left when the first body-shaped target came into view. With a savage war cry, she tensed her shoulder and collided with the sack. The force of the blow knocked aside her target, and Cara dodged to the right before it had a chance to bounce back. This was her favorite part of the course. She pictured each target as a sneering professor or a haughty clone, knocking the snot out of each one until her anger dissolved. When she reached the last bag, she hit it extra hard in honor of Satan. He must have known, because he zapped her again.

  She squeaked in pain and felt a sudden burst of energy—just enough to propel her into a run and carry her through the mile-long endurance track. After that, she breezed over the hurdles and approached the final obstacle: the cord maze, also known as the tangler. She barely had the strength to lift her head, let alone grip the overhead ropes and maneuver her way, monkey-bar-style, to the other side. She stood with her boots rooted to the ground, staring at the finish line in the distance.

  So close, yet so far away…

  Zzzttt!

  Stifling a sob, Cara jumped up and grabbed the thick cord with both hands. She pumped her feet to create momentum, then swung forward to grip the next section of rope. Though the material was coated for maximum traction, she felt her fingers slipping with fatigue. But each time she slowed, a jolt of electricity stirred her adrenaline. She forced herself onward, drawing on power she didn’t know she possessed, until she reached the other side.

  She wasted no time in barreling toward the finish line, head down, muscles burning, heart pounding as she drove her legs harder and faster. When she crossed the threshold, she heard Satan yell, “Sweeeeeney! You make most excellent time—top twenty in whole Aegis!”

  Cara bent at the waist and gripped her knees, fighting for breath. Her stomach heaved, and she lost her breakfast in the bushes. But damn if she didn’t feel like a rock star.

  Satan climbed down from the tree and removed her t’alar harness, then gave her a hearty smack on the back. “Eat plenty l’ina,” he said with pride. “And make much rest. Tomorrow we meet at intermediate course.”

  “Sleep”—pant-gasp-wheeze—“l’ina”—pant-gasp-wheeze—“got it.”

  Cara waved good-bye to Satan and dragged her rubbery legs toward the main building. The cafeteria would serve lunch in fifteen minutes, which meant she had to shower and dress in ten.

  Her body gave her a second wind by the time she reached the courtyard. She noticed Troy there but didn’t bother to wave. He was engaged in a game of sticks with a couple of jerks named Odom and Skall. They usually hung out with Dahla, who was watching the game from the opposite side of the lawn.

  Each boy gripped a wooden staff and circled his opponents, waiting for an opportunity to knock one another to the ground. Players weren’t allowed to strike the left side of the body, and they could only hit below the waist. They didn’t wear cups, either. Only the hard-core L’eihrs played sticks, and Troy was surprisingly good at it. He deflected each attack with lightning speed and struck back twice as hard, keeping Odom and Skall on the defensive.

  Cara moved in closer.

  Troy had pulled his black curls into a ponytail, and sweat dripped between his bare shoulder blades as he twirled his staff. Typically, Cara didn’t pay much attention to her brother’s body—because, ew—but she couldn’t help noticing how much he’d bulked up on L’eihr. He was seriously ripped, holding his own against the two largest clones in the Aegis. Even when Odom and Skall teamed up against him, Troy left them limping in pain, whacking one in the gut and the other in the thigh. Without hesitating, he swept his staff behind both men’s ankles and knocked them to the grass.

  Cara summoned enough strength in her noodle arms to applaud her brother. “Woo-hoo,” she called while clapping wildly. “Go, Troy! You kicked—”

  In a flash, s
omething solid hit the backs of Cara’s knees, and she fell, hard. When she opened her eyes, she was staring at the beige sky and struggling to breathe. After blinking a few times, she pushed up on her elbows and realized Skall had used his stick to flatten her.

  Dahla broke into hysterical laughter while Skall jumped to his feet. They pointed at Cara, clearly teasing her in their native language. A few onlookers joined in mocking her, and she half expected her brother to laugh the loudest.

  But Troy was not amused.

  His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. He threw down his staff and charged Skall without warning, planting his shoulder in the clone’s midsection. For the second time, Skall landed on his ass, but this was no game. Troy used the side of his hand to slam Skall’s windpipe, leaving him coughing and retching in the grass.

  Odom rushed to his friend’s aid, but Troy stopped him with an expression that said, The Marines taught me how to pull a man’s nuts through his throat. Want a demonstration? Odom backed away, and Skall glared at Cara while he rubbed his neck. His message was also clear: Your brother won’t always be here to protect you.

  “Let’s go.” Troy helped her to standing and brushed loose bits of grass from her uniform. Then he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her up the front steps and into the Aegis lobby. When they reached Cara’s door, Troy held her at arm’s length and inspected her for damage.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “Yeah, just got the wind knocked out of me.” She knew Troy wouldn’t like it, but she gave him a hug.

  As she predicted, he squirmed away. “Gross, Pepper. I’m all sweaty.” He sniffed the air a few times. “And you smell.”

  She glanced down the hall into the lobby, where Odom, Skall, and Dahla had just stalked inside. “Do you think they’ll tell the headmaster?” L’eihrs didn’t tolerate fighting, and she didn’t want Troy whipped with that awful electric lash.