ExtraNormal (4 page)

The door opened. “I’ll just jump in the back,” Camille said. “I don’t think those long legs will fit back there.” The open door looked so inviting. Especially with the hot sun beating down on me. I put my hand on the edge of it. I’d ridden in a moving van from agency headquarters to my house just yesterday. But that wasn’t the same thing. I’d never fantasized about riding in a moving van. “Yes,” I said, stepping into the car. “Thank you.” I inhaled deeply. An automobile. It was insane how exciting this was. Dad would just die. Just crumble and die.

“Hey, look!” Serena held her cell phone up to the front of the vehicle.

Car
. I had to remember the words. Think simple. I put my head near Lacey’s and saw an image of a boy pushing his nose up with his finger. The three burst into laughter. I smiled, though I was too anxious to enjoy their light moods.

“Hey!” Lacey said. “We ought to get your number.”

“My number?”

“For your phone. You do have one?”

“Oh…yes.” I did, but didn’t expect to use it. I recited the string of numbers Keddil had assigned me for filling out school forms, hoping that’s what they were looking for. Seconds later a song played from my backpack.

Lacey pulled down on the gearshift. “You gonna answer that?”

I unzipped my bag and dug for the phone. The screen was lit up and playing a simple melody. I didn’t know how to do anything except push nine-one-one in case of extreme emergency. My finger hovered over the keypad.

“Don’t tell me they don’t have cell phones in Albuquerque,” Lacey said. Her voice was light, but the mood in the car had changed from jubilant to confused.

My face grew warm. This was the kind of thing Keddil had warned me about. “I…it’s…new.”

“I sent you a text.” Serena snatched the phone from me. “You push this button to see it.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled, trying to sound casual. “I knew that.”

Serena drew the phone to her lap, her fingers flying over the tiny buttons.

“Oh, hey,” Lacey said. “Can you get your seatbelt? My parents are kind of weird about that.”

“Oh.” I turned and looked at the belt attached to the side panel of the car. We hadn’t used one in the van. “Sorry.” I grabbed the belt and pulled. It resisted, and a piece of metal that was looped through it fell against my hand. I grappled for it…yanked on it…then awkwardly fumbled with it. Eventually, triumphantly, I managed to get both the strap and metal piece across my chest.

I then looked up. The girls stared at me, even more astounded than they’d been at lunch. 

“So…” Lacey said. “No 
seatbelts
 in Albuquerque either?”

I tried to ignore the pressure building behind my eyes so that I could focus on inserting the idiotic metal latch into the idiotic slot next to my hip. My fingers fumbled while gripping the hard plastic casing.

“So what planet did you say you’re from?” It was Lacey’s voice again.

I felt a jolt of adrenaline. My hands froze mid air. Not even a full day and I’d blown my cover. “Earth,” I said, automatically, defensively.

 CHAPTER FIVE 

As soon as the word 
Earth
 spilled out of my mouth I realized my mistake. Lacey’s question was rhetorical. Of course. She didn’t really think I was from anywhere but Earth. She just thought I was the village idiot and was trying very hard to be kind about it. We traveled on in confused silence. I tried to think of something to say but couldn’t come up with an explanation that would improve the situation.

I hadn’t been lying. I really was a perfectly normal human being from Earth. In a manner of speaking.

And that I could make such a claim was just further evidence that the Nreim government was seriously out of control—though the first-ever Neoearth Student Emissary probably shouldn’t even think such a thing.

The unofficial version of the story—the one I only know because my mother was a government agent—was that the Nreim government had been operating under the assumption that the planet they had just discovered was inhabited by a life form with the intelligence of fungi.

 That was until the Stones discovered the embarrassing news that my race—nafarians—share the same DNA as the primitive Earth aliens. The government attempted to keep the news quiet. But since the Stones literally have millions of followers, it wasn’t long before the fact was leaked that our near-perfect genetic coding was almost identical to lower-evolved aliens. It quickly became the biggest news story of all time. Even bigger than the original discovery of planet Earth.

In order to assert nafarian’s superior genetics, the governing council slapped the prefix 
neo
 on all things Earth. The message was supposed to be that Nreim was the superior planet. The master planet. The better—in every way—planet.

So in the English language I am the human and they are the neohumans.

Planet names are even more entertaining.

The dictionary definition of Planet Earth is: the planet third in order from the sun, having an equatorial diameter of 12,755 km and a polar diameter of 12,714 km, a mean distance from the sun of 149.6 million km, and a period of revolution of 365.26 days.

Which also happens to be the dictionary definition of the Planet Nreim. So our brilliant governing council decided that we would call Nreim by the name Original Earth and Earth would be called Neoearth.

All in the name of avoiding confusion.

 Idiotic if you ask me. But no one asked me. And so there it is: I am human. And can even claim to be from Earth.

In fact, that was Keddil’s favorite mantra during my training: “Remember, you’re just a perfectly normal human from Earth.” 

 Yet I had never felt less normal. Or less perfect.

After an eternal drive—with me simply pointing the way—the car pulled in front of the house. Serena handed the phone back. “I programmed it for you. Push two for Lacey, three for me, and four for Camille.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled. Clutching the phone, I hurried from the car and its heavy sense of confusion. Accepting a ride had been an obvious mistake. Maybe the whole student emissary program was. I was a teenager, and teenagers need friends, no matter how socially inept they are or what planet they are on. I couldn’t just keep to myself for an entire year. And even if I did, I’d never blend in.

When I entered the domicile…
house
, I dropped my backpack next to the door and allowed my eyes to adjust to the dim light. Like the classrooms at Los Robles High, the living room felt like the set from a phony visual media show—not the comfortable home I craved. I curled up on the rough couch and closed my eyes.

I shouldn’t even be here—should be asleep in a normal bed in a normal house. Sure, Keddil had called this a pseudo-assignment: just a convenient way to keep an eye on the Stones now that they’d decided to teach at a high school instead of a university. But it’s not like the Stones needed watching. And Keddil’s supposed training was a joke.

Maybe it was all a joke. Maybe the agency sent me so they could have a good laugh at my expense. Keddil was probably somewhere with his friends right now secretly watching me while chuckling and slapping each other on the back.

 I wished I could commiserate with Geery. But she would be in bed by now. Dad was probably still up, since both of his women—me and Mom—were away from home. At least he wouldn’t care if I used terminology that was accurate instead of silly. Besides, it would be good to hear his voice. I sat up, emboldened. It took several minutes to form a successful stream.

His voice sounded distant, small.

I smiled, and pictured him rubbing his eyes, his hair sticking out carelessly.

He did sound truly surprised. I struggled to keep my voice steady.

I smiled. Of course he’d want to know about them first.

I didn’t want to let on that it hadn’t been all that thrilling. This all meant so much to him.

Dad sounded breathless with excitement.

The summary I gave was quick, with no mention of food or Dr. Alison’s class. I said in an excited whisper, hoping he would be too interested in the car to care about rule violations.

He gasped.

When I told him about the cell phone incident, I could feel the deep rumble of his laughter right down to my toes. he asked.

I should have thought of it myself. I focused on the television set first. He gasped. I let my gaze travel to the stereo. After lingering on it for a moment, I looked around the room—then walked into the kitchen, then to my bedroom, then outside to our very own swimming pool. The backyard was only slightly larger than the pool itself. A concrete path about four feet wide bordered three sides of the pool. The side that entered the shallow area had a concrete slab barely large enough to hold two lounge chairs, a palmaceae tree, and a small patch of poaceae about five feet in diameter. I remained quiet, enjoying his enthusiastic responses.

Finally I went through the gate to the front yard, where I watched the road until a car passed. A motorcycle followed. Across the street a woman walked a spotted dog.

I pulled my gaze down to a row of orange poppies in the yard, and then over to a large bush covered in hydrangeas. he whispered.

I sat on the concrete porch steps.

Look in a reflector and send me what you see.

I whispered.

After a moment, his image flashed behind my eyes. He was in his pajamas, his hair tousled. Just like I’d pictured him. A row of Earth model cars was lined neatly on a shelf behind him. I couldn’t help but smile. I asked.

he streamed.

He chuckled softly and whispered,

I swallowed back a swell of tears. The words flowed over me like a blanket. With his face before me, his gentle words in my ears, I was suddenly a little girl curled in his lap, soaking up his affection. is
deep Daddy,> I replied with the common Nreim phrase in English. I’d never missed home so much.

I lingered on the porch after closing the connection, replaying the conversation. I had thought talking to him would make me feel better, but it hadn’t. Until just then, I hadn’t realized how difficult the separation was going to be on all of us. We were all so different. For Mom everything was about adventure and action. Dad was all science and logic. I was the sentimental one. I didn’t see how any of us was going to get by without the other.

Traveling to Earth had been Dad’s dream for as long as I could remember. But he taught nine university courses and would have had to find a replacement for each one. The only reason Mom was capable of leaving her linkmate behind was that she could sense how much it pleased him that his daughter was the chosen candidate. And I wanted nothing more than to please my parents. Maybe coming here was my dream too. Maybe. But the thought of going back to that school, of seeing those girls again, being in the same room as Dr. Alison—or running into Choir Boy…

I realized in that moment that all the excitement for this mission had come from my parents and friends. The entire time that I was in training I’d heard nothing but what an honor this was. How special it was that I was chosen. I never gave a thought to declining the offer.

Until the moment I was strapped into that transport.

The transport. Which just happened to be parked at agency headquarters—a hangar at the Van Nuys Airport—domed by a shield that made it look to any passerby like a Cessna 172SP. It was scheduled for a return flight tomorrow. I didn’t know the date of the next trip, but considering the cost, it wasn’t likely to be soon.

Suddenly, Keddil’s inevitable gloating didn’t matter. Or even my parents’ disappointment. They would get over it if I quit, if I got on that transport headed for home.
Home
. What a beautiful word. There really wasn’t any reason for me to stay. It wasn’t like I was doing any good for the emissary program. I’d racked up a phenomenal number of rule violations in just the first day. Which would be a bad reflection on Mom if I were found out. The agency would have to conduct an investigation. If I made any more mistakes they might even have to wipe memories—and Mom would be the one to get blamed. I’d actually be doing her a favor if I left.

I sat up tall and put my face to the warm sun—feeling better than I had in days. I’d miss cheeseburgers when I got home. But that was the only thing.

 CHAPTER SIX

The sound of a child’s cry burst through my thoughts and the quiet afternoon. A tiny girl with bright red hair came dashing from the yard next door into mine, bellowing. I wanted to mind my own business but couldn’t take my eyes off the crimson streak as it dashed past. The girl stopped suddenly in her tracks, then turned back and stood directly in front of me. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but instead let out an ear-piercing scream.

I studied the strange and fragile-looking child, not sure what to say. Tears streamed down her cheeks, flowing into her mouth. Eventually I decided I’d have to say something, and spoke in a loud voice over the girl’s wails. “What’s wrong?”