Fear Me Not (The EVE Chronicles) (2 page)

The aliens came out looking like humans. Dark hair, gray eyes, covered in half-healing plastic surgery scars and wearing affable smiles. Their skin colors were all shades, probably to appeal to a multiracial planet like ours. Their leader spoke perfect English – they told the reporters their ship had broken down, they hadn’t been in space long, and we humans were the first aliens they’d come across.

That got a good laugh out of everyone. Us? Aliens? Yeah right.
They
were the aliens.

Growing up meant watching a constant stream of alien news, interviews of Gutter leaders on talk shows, politicians making frenzied promises and reassurances the aliens were harmless. The riots screamed with molotovs to kill the Gutters. Religious leaders preached Gutters were angels, demons, heralds of the end. U.N. sessions were televised to discuss the Gutters. They were going to take a few years to rebuild their ship, and then they would leave. That’s what they said. That was all. They weren’t here for world domination, or to suck us dry. They basically had a road accident, so to speak. It’s been eleven years, and they haven’t tried anything shady. So we have to believe them. The alien takeover I’d read about in old comics and books was supposed to be violent, filled with lasers and warp-speeds. I should’ve known better. Aliens advanced enough to travel through space would know exactly how to subtly integrate themselves in our society - through our TVs, newspapers, and ads. A few of them even star in movies, and model. Some of the world’s best scientists and engineers are Gutters. 

Shadus takes a right turn. I veer around the corner. He moves slow, like he wants me to catch up. I’m not falling for it - I’ll stay behind him if it’s the last thing I do.

“Suspicious of me, are you?” He asks.

“I just don’t like walking with strangers.”

“I can’t hurt you, you know. We’re just like you now.”

“No,” I take in his cheekbones, his eerie red eyes. “You aren’t.”

He stares at me, the crimson like dying embers, and then he turns and keeps walking.

The high fence arcing around the school is easy to see from the windows – signs warn that it’s electrified. The electricity is one of the advancements made possible by alien technology; it gradually paralyzes anyone who touches it, like a snake bite. Makes the trespasser easy pickings for patrolling security. Electric fences aren’t the only things Gutters improved for us. Medical advances happen daily. Machines streamline assemblies. Computers are faster. The government keeps a close eye on everything they do, and in exchange for a bit of cultural freedom, Gutters work with us to develop new technologies. But that doesn’t change the fact they got Mom killed. Doesn’t change the fact they feed on us like cattle.  

“So, what? Can’t learn at the school on your reservation? Did Colorado get too cold for you?” I ask Shadus as he opens the main hall doors and strides down the sidewalk. It’s hostile, but I don’t know how to be anything else with these aliens.

“The reservation’s temperature is not relevant at this moment,” He deadpans.

“Shoot me for asking a civil question, then.” I glower.

There’s a beat of quiet. Shadus plucks a leaf as we pass a tree.

“The cold of Earth has never bothered me. Our planet is much colder. It’s child’s flay in comparison.”

“Play.”

He quirks a brow. I clear my throat.

“Child’s
play
. Not flay. That’s how the saying goes.”

“Your language is entirely verbal. Even after eleven years, it’s very hard to get used to.” He says in clipped tones.

“I didn’t mean to like, offend you, or whatever. Just wanted to make sure you knew the right way to say it.”

He scoffs, the sound like a wolf barking. “And yet you’d do miserably at learning my language.”

“Yeah?” I bristle. “How can you be so sure? I’m smart. Sort of. I mean, obviously I’m not smart at all since I decided to come here and get stuck with you, but I’m smart study-wise. ”

“No matter how much one studies, a human would never be able to speak our language. You speak with words. We speak with scent. But you humans have taken even that from us, now.”

I’m quiet. Speaking with smells? That sounds half-ridiculous and half-radical.

“We’ve taken it from you?”

Shadus nods, dark hair shifting as he motions to his lithe body.

“These are human shells we hastily constructed in order to come out of the ship without being shot at. We can’t communicate with scent. We don’t have the proper glands, anymore. We have to use harsh vocals. It’s like if you lost your eyesight and your voice all at once, and were forced to communicate with hand gestures.”  

I flinch. Shadus shakes his head.

“But that’s useless. Me telling you that is useless. You’ll never understand the sacrifices we’ve made just to survive on this planet. And you’ll never care. Because you’re a human. And all they do is pretend to care.”

  He strides off, and I follow quickly. He’s right. I don’t care. I’m just here for the money. But something about what he said made my gut twinge in guilt, and sadness.

Shadus leads me to the girl’s dorm, a massive brick building with ivy covering the white pillars and French windows. It’s fancy and beautiful, just like every other building on this campus. Inside, the walls are pale yellow with flowers. White lace curtains grace the windows. Other Gutter and EVE culture partners mill in the halls, stiff and awkward conversation being attempted. There are green velvet loveseats and massive oak tables, the common room flooded with sunlight.

“Wow.” My mouth drops open. Shadus stops and raises an eyebrow at me.

“Something wrong?”

“It’s like a dollhouse.” I run my fingers along a polished banister. “Way, way nicer than anything I’ve ever lived in.”

“It’s nothing impressive,” Shadus snorts. “Human architecture is dull.”  

“Candies in a bowl!” I lean over and pick a caramel out. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! This place really
is
fancy.”

“Is there something special about those items?” Shadus asks.

“Uh, hello? It’s cand – oh. That’s right. You guys can’t eat human food,” I unwrap one. “Your loss. These are sweet and delicious.”

“Different emotions have different tastes,” He glances at me from under his dark bangs. “I know what sweet is. Happiness is sweet. So is excitement, and anticipation.”

I stuff as many caramels into my pockets as I can. “Protip; don’t talk to humans about your creepy eating habits.”

He starts up the stairs to floor two. “You’re particularly abrasive for a human.”

“And you use too many big words,” I snap back. The second floor has huge windows and beautiful wood doors. I wish Alisa was here to see this place. She’d love it.

“104.” Shadus motions to a door - my dorm room.

“Where’s the lock?” I raise an eyebrow. There’s a panel on the side of the door, glowing with an electronic pulse.

“Handprint recognition. It also remotely tests your DNA against the computer’s database,” Shadus murmurs. I press my hand to the panel. The door clicks open.

“I don’t know what’s creepier - tech that can probably lock me out of my own room, or aliens who made themselves human bodies.”

Shadus grimaces. “You talk too much.”

“Is that an insult?”

“That’s a personal observation of mine.”

“What’s wrong with your eyes? They’re red,” I fire back.

“I can see perfectly. Your concern is touching but unneeded. Let’s not pretend to care about each other when no faculty members are present. It wastes energy, and we both know it’s  a farce.” He looks down the hall. “Laundry room to your left. Bathrooms to your right. Dinner is at six.”

There’s a long, awkward pause. Shadus stares at me with that bored, irritated expression, like he’s willing me to disappear. I get the message and edge into my room. His footsteps echo down the hall. With his crimson gaze off me, I feel like I can breathe easier. I regret what I said – it was rude, but it’s hard to be polite when you’re a foot away from one of the reasons your Mom died.

But he didn’t kill her
, a voice echoes in my head.
No Gutter touched her. Humans did.
 

I shake that thought clean out of my head and look around.

The room is simple. There’s two twin beds, a closet and dressers and desks. One Gutter of the same sex is supposed to room with one human. My suitcase is propped at the foot of a bed. I flop on the floral comforter and wrinkle my nose. Roses are more Alisa’s thing, but it’ll do.

I stare at the ceiling fan. I’m officially an EVE, now. This room cements it.

 I finger the EVE scar on my belly, right above my stomach.

What the doctors at the EVE clinic told me reverberates in my head; the Gutters can’t eat Gutter emotions. It has to be another sentient being; us. They can only eat emotion if it’s in a certain chemical form - the EVE organ converts emotion into that chemical. And finally; only certain people can be EVEs. Everybody knows that. Genetic dispositions, blood types, health; all of it’s a factor. The clinics test humans for a specific genetic marker that makes it easier for the body to accept the EVE organ.

The first EVEs were those the government scooped up - the homeless and the poor who tested positive and needed cash. But the emotions they produced weren’t hearty enough. The aliens needed fatter, healthier humans. They needed middle America. Posters at the grocery store for recruitment sprang up overnight, government workers on curbs handing out flyers about the benefits and fancy paid housing an EVE got. Middle America started caving with the promise of a good salary on the heels of a bad recession.

And that was just the beginning. Now, there’s an entire desegregated school for Gutters and humans. It’s never been done before. Green Hills is the first of its kind. EVEs usually live on the Gutter reservation in Colorado, but putting teenage EVEs and teenage Gutters together at a boarding school? It’s almost crazy. It’ll either work, or go up in flames. We
need
to board here, since the EVE organ has to be monitored closely in case something goes wrong.

I crack open the window by my bed. Outside the grass is dried golden, and fallen leaves scatter like bright red wounds into the earth. This school borders a small town in the hills of Napa wine country. I take a deep breath. It smells crisp, better than the oppressive smog of Los Angeles I’d lived in all my life. Alisa is still smelling that smog, and with her intense asthma, it affects her much worse. I squeeze my eyes shut. She just has to hold on a little longer. I’m here to bring her somewhere new - to get her the fancy hospital and the fancy house in a clean-aired place that she deserves. I’m here to give Dad the break he deserves.  

I rummage through my coat and tap a cigarette from my pack. I look at the ceiling - smoke detectors? The EVE contract said no drinking, no being out after curfew, and to refrain from ‘staying over’ at the opposite gender’s dorm, but they didn’t say anything about smoking. Still, I won’t take the chance of getting kicked out. I pull my hoodie on. Before I can open the door, it bashes my nose and my head splits down the middle with hot agony. Through my tearing vision I see dark hair in a long sheet, with blunt bangs framing a pointed face. Her eye color is streaked with sky blue. It’s the girl Gutter I saw earlier. She smells like roses.

“Oh,
kiheresh
!” She hisses. “Are you okay, human? Do you have a name?”

“O-Ow. My name is Ow.”

She laughs, nervously. “Really?”

I glare through the pain. “It’s Victoria.”

“Nice to meet you! I’m Raine. Your roommate. Sorry about the door to your cranium.” She holds out her slender hand. I don’t take it, but she smiles and mimes shaking my hand anyway. She flops on the other bed, smoothing out the covers. That pose of hers suddenly makes me realize something.  

“I know you.” I point at her groggily. “My sister reads magazines all the time and you’re in them. You’re that…that Gutter model everyone talks about.”

She smiles. “I’m surprised you recognized me. Most people think Gutters all look the same.”

“You’re skinnier than the rest of them. Like a skeleton.”

“I do try to keep a decent figure.”

“I guess starving yourself for vanity is popular with aliens, too,” I grumble and start for the door.

 “Not very pleasant, are you?” She singsongs. “No wonder you got Shadus as a culture partner.”

I freeze, my fingers on the handle. “Is he unpleasant? I didn’t notice.”

“Your sarcasm mastery is levels above mine,” Raine chimes happily.  

“Your eyes are like his.”

She laughs. “You really don’t know much about us, do you? Are you a Gutter-hater, perhaps? One of those people who refuses to learn about our culture when we’ve learned so much about yours?”

I look back at her. Raine just smiles, voice patient.

“We Gutters are divided into three groups. Illuminators – those who supply the facts and technology. Scientists, if you will. They are represented by the color blue. The Adjudicators – keepers of the laws, and deciders of the punishments, much like your policemen and judges. They use the color gold.  And finally; the Executioners. Those who carry out orders. Those who kill, to defend and to punish. Our military. Red is their banner.”

I’m quiet, and Raine delights in my silence, continuing with gusto.

“We do not have presidents, or kings. We have
sotho
– the leading families. Each faction is led by a family who has ruled since ancient times. The
sotho
have different colored eyes. This is what sets us apart, and denotes our rank among commoners.”

“Red eyes for Shadus. Blue for you. Yellow for that last guy. And gray for everybody else.” I say. “So you three are like, royalty.”

“Yes, very good.” Raine smiles. “There may be hope for you, yet.”

 “Thanks for the condescending culture lesson, Your Highness.”

I wrench the door open. The hall crowds with ambling girls, mostly human. I mince around groups, listening to the chatter.

“You’re from Nebraska? I’m from Connecticut. California is way too hot for me already.”