When the Sky Fell on Splendor(75)

“Proof?” My voice was small, smothered by the layer of ash and rubble coating everything.

“Of them.” The words hissed out of him like air from a teakettle. His eyes bulged in their sockets, all the manic energy of Nick but none of the warmth. “Of where they come from. Of what lies beyond the limits of our human understanding and the technology we have to advance it.”

He took another step, trembling. “When you close your eyes, you see it, don’t you?” he whispered, wispy brows knitting together as his gaze darkened with focus. “All that light, and that sound—the sound you can feel. The voices—zillions of them, whole civilizations that came before us, and maybe even those that come after us! All drawn into that same timeless place. You still can feel that, can’t you? You haven’t wasted too much yet, have you, Frances?”

“I need to go,” I said, heart thudding as he pressed in tighter.

“That feeling of—of utter connection. There’s nothing else like that. Nothing, and believe me, I’ve looked. There isn’t a drug or a piece of art or a temple on this earth with a feeling like that, that bliss. No amount of money can buy your way back to that pool of light and all those voices and—” His words caught in his throat. He seemed suddenly sick, his skin sheened with sweat, his legs wobbly as he took another step. “All that light.”

“I really need to go,” I said again. “My brother will be wondering where I am.”

Outside, thunder rumbled, and the darkness in Bill’s eyes cleared. His mouth softened, and he blinked rapidly, like he was caught off guard to see me standing there. “Yes, yes, of course. And he won’t be the only one. We can discuss this more at the safe house.”

“Safe house?”

I wasn’t going anywhere with Bill. Not with shaky, half-desperate Bill, whose voice went hoarse with awe when he talked about the creature in me.

He adjusted his footing. “Frances, do you know what will happen if they find you?”

He waited just long enough to make me wonder whether the question was rhetorical, then went on. “It won’t matter whether you’ve got any of the extraterrestrial left in you or not. They’ll want to test it. They’ll tell your folks they’re taking you in for questioning—oh no, not for something you’ve done, but for something they’ll say you witnessed. Something you were exposed to, maybe. They’ll say they need to run some tests, see whether your immune system’s been compromised, courtesy of some Russian satellite that fell out of the sky, or some such nonsense.”

The word satellite sent a dizzy wave through me.

“You’ll say you feel fine,” Bill said. “But they’ll frighten your folks enough to get them to sign some waivers, and next thing you know you’re in quarantine. And as they’re running some tests you’ll realize—hey, I’m not feeling so well after all. You’ll think they might have been telling the truth. When your parents come in to see you, they’ll notice you’re not looking swell. You won’t be able to hide it, what with all the drugs they’ll be pumping into your system. Your illness will progress quickly. One night, your parents will be at your side, through a protective layer of plastic, of course, and the next morning, they’ll get a knock on the door letting them know their little girl didn’t make it.

“Tragic, I know,” Bill said. “But hardly the worst part. The worst part is the body—contaminated, highly toxic! It cannot, safely, be released. Your folks might be ticked, sure. Might even go so far as to call a lawyer friend, but things will be settled quietly in the end, with a check and a nondisclosure agreement. Now.” Bill’s eyes brightened and his eyebrows lifted. “Will they actually kill you? I can’t say. The accounts I have of this are from our end of things, Frances, the little guy, not the suits. I don’t know what happens at that point.

“Maybe they keep you in a lead box and feed you on a tray pushed under the door until they’re good and finished. Maybe when they realize there’s no trace of your little friend left in you, they toss you into another round of unrelated experiments, the kind that’s supposed to be illegal. The point is, you’ll be more than dead to your friends and family. You’ll be erased.” He smacked his lips, beleaguered breaths grating out of him. “That’s what will happen to you, Frances. If you don’t come with me somewhere safe right now.”

He knew about the satellite. He knew they were saying the field was contaminated.

And staying here wouldn’t keep me safe. If he could find me, they could too. Maybe he was right.

“I’ll just . . .” I cleared my throat. “I’ll just let my brother know—”

Bill shook his head. “They’ll be monitoring your friends’ and family’s calls. They’re tracking your phone too. We’ve got to discard it and get out of here. They’re likely on their way right now.”

My mind whirred, cycling through my options. Bill was a stranger, a strange stranger, but he was right about the phone—if TV and movies were any indication, a person with resources could use it to find me.

Still, I wasn’t going to get in a car with him. At least not alone.

“I have to get ahold of my brother.” I sidestepped him, but Bill moved into my path, his hand held up, fingers splayed.