Chapter Two—The Interrogation

Riley Sinjin directed me to a small room at the opposite side of the compound, and Blanche, Mary, and Diana were waiting for us there. The room was sparse: a plastic table and metal folding chairs, a naked bulb that hung from a black cable and swayed gently whenever anyone walked past it.

The door was heavy and rough, like wrought iron almost, and when it shut behind us, it felt like it sealed us in.

Riley sat, and so did I, near to him. Blanche gestured to the Mary and Diana in turn, introducing them, and they gave me a perfunctory hello or nod of the head.

“So are you guys, like, the leaders of this whole thing?” I asked, pointing at them one at a time.

“We head this faction,” Riley explained.

“But we are just one of many scattered across the globe,” Diana said by way of explanation.

“Enough with the chit chat and social pleasantries,” Blanche interjected, leaning forward so that her arms rested on the table in front of her. She had a notepad and pen—everything was so analog in this place. And I wondered if that wasn’t purposeful: I wondered if they limited tech because it could be traced. I absently played with my aquamarine pendant; Riley watched me do it. “We need intel, Jane.”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you,” I said, shaking my head. “I wasn’t privy to any of Master Kain’s meetings. I spent my days with his children.”

“And what were your days like?” Blanche pressed. “What did the boys think of earth?”

I breathed in and recalled their sweet faces, so open and eager to learn about their new home. I remembered their smiles, their playful jabs, and thought for a moment that I might deflate once more into tears. “They’re good boys,” I said, and swallowed down my emotion. “They are so bright, and so kind. They seemed eager to assimilate into the culture of earth. They spoke English impeccably, dressed like any little boy you might see in any American suburb. They were voracious learners—and I think they represent a general trend.”

“What do you mean?” Riley gently urged.

“I think most Ivaldans want to be like that, want to fit in. I don’t think they’re looking to take over, I think they’re trying to find a way to ingratiate themselves peacefully.”

“Why, then,” Diana demanded, “did they put us all to sleep? Why did they rob us of years of our life?”

I shook my head. “They didn’t rob us of anything. We were in cellular stasis, suspended animation. We aren’t missing years of our life; someone paused our aging process. Like we just got a very long night’s sleep.”

Mary was shaking her head; I was not completely among friends, even though we were the same species. “They came in without a word, put us to sleep, and set up power structures for themselves.”

“Yes, because they were trying to avoid death—theirs, and ours.” Wasn’t that so? Wasn’t that what Kaz had told me? “If they had wanted to take over, why not just wipe us out completely?”

“Because they needed to breed with us,” Diana said, like I was an idiot. “Because they needed to incubate the future of their species inside us.” And suddenly I understood why the resistance had primarily female leadership. It wasn’t just about the Aliens coming here and trying to live with us, it was the realization that at any moment, they could be forced to carry alien fetuses to term. But they wouldn’t do that? Would they?

Regardless, this was the real fear they were combating. It was about invasion, yes, but it was also about body autonomy. If these aliens had the power to put us to sleep, and keep us asleep for years on end, then they had the power to use us as human incubators. The very notion sent a shudder down my spine.

“I don’t know why you’re wasting your time, Ingram,” Mary said, glaring at me like I was something repulsive, and maybe to her I was. “She was just his whore.”

“Hey,” Riley warned.

“It’s fine,” I said. “She’s right. And I don’t have any information.” My shoulders slumped, and it was in that moment that I truly began to understand the breadth of my self-loathing. That’s all I was, wasn’t I? His whore.

Blanche leaned forward, her eyes locked on my face, giving me this expression like I was their last hope. “There’s nothing that stands out to you?” She asked, almost begging. And I felt like my necklace was burning my skin where it rested against my sternum. “Nothing at all?”

I swallowed hard and shook my head. I caught sight of Riley in my periphery, but he made no move to betray me. Which, I had to admit, was more than Kaz had been willing to do. I breathed in, breathed out, and elongated that moment: could I stand with these women, my people, and betray the man I loved? Or could I stay true to him, even though he had lied to me?

Blanche sighed. “Fine,” she said at length, leaning back in her chair. “We’re done here.” Riley stood up, but I sat there, frozen in my spot.

“Jane?” Riley asked quietly, urging me either to stand up or to come clean, I’m not sure which.

“Wait,” I said. The room seemed to freeze; no one took a breath. Then, I unclasped my necklace and placed it on the table in front of Blanche.

“What’s this?” she asked, but her tone suggested she had some idea. I turned the pendant over and pressed my thumb to the back of it; it transformed into the datapad that I had come to use and understand, but the capabilities of which even I was unsure.

“Holy shit,” Diana said, peering down at it. “She smuggled it out.”

“I didn’t smuggle it,” I said. “He wouldn’t have thought twice about letting me keep it.”

“If he hadn’t been so focused on losing you,” Blanche said, running her fingertips over the touch screen, “he would have made sure you never set foot off the compound with this type of tech.” She looked up at me then and proffered the hint of a smile. “Thank you, Jane,” she said.

“Yeah,” Diana echoed. “This is going to change everything.”

I gave a nod of my head and rose to my feet. I could feel Riley’s fingers hovering at the small of my back as we headed for the door, but I hesitated and turned around. “Um, could you just…give me fifteen minutes, to go back to my room and change? My clothes are made of nanites.”

Mary gave a squawk of a laugh; Diana looked on with impassive eyes; and Blanche gave a stately nod of her head. “Of course,” she said. I swallowed hard, and got out of that tight, intense room, with Riley close on my heels.

We were submerged back into the hustle and bustle of the stronghold, and I moved at quite a clip toward the lift, lest Mary take over and deprive me of my clothes in front of everyone.

“Hey,” Riley said, jogging to catch up, “why’d you do it? What changed your mind?”

Inside the lift, I pushed the appropriate buttons and we moved upward with a hiss and a rattle. “Let me ask you a question,” I said instead of answering his. I didn’t look at him; I just watched the scenery pass by the open grating of the lift. “What are the names of the people who head up the other factions of the resistance around the world?”

Riley paused a moment, undoubtedly making a mental list, but then he spoke, and it was just as I had imagined: “Jessica Feingart, Mikala Enguate, Claire O’Connor, Yukiko Hakimosha—” he stopped and looked at me. I guess I had answered his question after all. “I see,” he said. And all I could do was shrug.

“I guess I get it,” I said. “I didn’t before, because I thought everyone could just peacefully coexist. But just because no one is firing any weapons doesn’t mean this isn’t a war.” The lift halted at our floor and Riley opened the door, letting me out ahead of him. I moved to the side, leaning against an iron pipe railing, the only thing that would keep me from toppling to the cold stone floor below. “Have there been any, um…reports?” I asked, watching as Riley closed the iron gate of the lift. A few people squeezed past us on the narrow hallway, chatting quietly amongst themselves, and Riley canted his chin toward the door to his room. “I have a pilfered bottle of whiskey,” he said, “if you’re interested.”

I quirked a brow. “It’s a little early in the day to be drinking, isn’t it?”

Riley flashed a white, toothy smile. “It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

I smiled a little, crossing my arms in front of me. “Yeah,” I said. “Sure.”

“Ok, good. Maybe I’ll even tell you what I know.”

“But give me a sec,” I said, pushing away from the railing. “I don’t know how much longer these clothes are going to remain on my body, so I need to change.”

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll leave the door open for you.”

He disappeared into his room, and I went into mine, rifling through the clothes that some of the girls had sent up for me. Second hand, but sturdy, I chose a pair of skinny jeans, some black ankle boots, a black tank top and a red sweater that hung off the shoulder. I gathered my curls into a high ponytail and looked at myself in the small bathroom mirror. For whatever reason, I wished I had lipstick or rouge or something—I seemed pale, with circles under my eyes that drifted out like ripples in a pond.

The bathroom had been outfitted with some toiletries, so I put on some chapstick and called it a day, able to join Riley Sinjin with the confidence that, at least, my outfit wouldn’t randomly disappear. My old clothes I had abandoned on the foot of the little twin bed, and I made my way out of my room, turning sharply to knock on Riley’s door.

“Come in,” he said from inside, and I pushed my way in.

His room was not like my room. Although it shared the same dimensions, mirrored like hotel rooms, it was beautifully appointed in dark wood and red textiles. There was a full-sized sleigh bed in the back left corner of the room, and over it hung a pretty little lantern chandelier that glowed a warm yellow. In fact, it seemed he’d replaced all the lights with indirect lighting, and it gave the space a cozy atmosphere. He had a dark wood desk with a high-backed chair, upholstered in what looked like red leather; and there was a matching bookcase, filled to bursting with books. The stone floor boasted a rug that looked well-worn, but managed to maintain its beauty, and it gave the entire place the feeling of a secret room, one that could only be accessed by a moving wall that opened when you pulled the right book out of place.

“Wow,” I said, moving more deeply into the room. It was a better use of the space than mine was, and near to the door there were two armchairs and a small bar between them that displayed crystal decanters containing a variety of warm, brown liquid.

“Yeah,” he said, obviously proud of it. “You spend long enough here, you’re constantly on the hunt.”

“The hunt?”

“Yeah, whenever we go on runs, we’ll stop at abandoned houses, and just…”

I grinned. “Steal?” When I had donned my black and red ensembled, I hadn’t anticipated that I would match the decor.

“Well,” he mirrored my grin, slightly abashed. “Borrowing.”

“But won’t those people come back to their homes eventually? I mean, that’s the resistance’s ultimate goal, right? To put people back into their lives.”

“Sure,” he said. “So the bits and pieces of furniture are our payment.”

I chuckled a little. “Seems fair.”

He gestured to the chairs. “Have a seat.” And I did. He moved over and lingered nearby, so close that I could feel the heat radiating from him in a room that he otherwise seemed to keep rather cool. He poured a finger of whiskey into a crystal glass and handed it to me before pouring one for himself and sitting in the chair next to mine. He leaned forward so that his elbows were on his knees, his glass cradled in his hands, and he stared into it like it held all the answers in the known universe.

“I don’t think Kazimir Kain is a villain,” he began cautiously, not looking at me. So I lifted the glass to my lips and took a tentative sip of the liquid therein. It was smooth on the tongue, and warm on the way down. “But I also don’t think he is representative of the Ivaldans as a whole.”

“What do you mean?” I asked and watched him carefully. He was a handsome man, in his late thirties I would guess, with smile lines around his eyes. I would have liked to see him without that beard.

“There were women who came to us about two years ago or so,” he said, before tossing back the whiskey in his glass in one fell swoop. “They were very pregnant, on the verge of giving birth.” I held my breath, certain I knew what was to come. “And they were terrified.”

“Were they…” I could hardly finish the sentence. “Forced?”

But—thank God—Riley shook his head. “No. They were like you—they’d taken Ivaldan lovers. They’d been on hormonal birth control. So either their birth control had been sabotaged, or Ivaldan reproduction doesn’t quite work the same way that ours does.”

I sipped again; I finished what was in my glass. Riley poured us both two more fingers of whiskey. It was too early in the day for drinking, but decorum be damned.

“They didn’t survive the delivery,” Riley continued. “And neither did their offspring.” I was wide-eyed with my terror, and I couldn’t ask what happened to them, though the question must have been plainly written on my face because Riley went on: “I’m not a doctor, so I can’t speak to what happened to them medically. I just know that the delivery process ripped those poor women to shreds, and that we didn’t have the proper care for the offspring once they arrived.”

“That’s…” I was shaking my head; I could barely think straight.

“Horrible. I know.” We both finished our drinks, but thinking that perhaps the late morning was not an appropriate time to get drunk, Riley plucked the glass from my hands and walked with them over to the little kitchenette that was hidden behind a folding screen with a print of the orient laid over the wood. He put the glasses in the sink and returned. “I considered whether or not I should mention this, but…”

He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and I straightened up where I sat, brows arched high in question. “What?”

“I…don’t want to further divide your loyalties…” He heaved a sigh and set about pacing back and forth over his rug.

“Loyalties,” I repeated with a mirthless laugh, “I don’t think I have any of those.” I looked at him, and I could see how genuinely torn he was, how in dismay.

“I want you to know that you can trust me,” he said. “I want you to know that I won’t ever lie to you, not about what’s happening here.” He paused, his eyes locked on my face. “Not about anything.”

“All right,” I said cautiously, leaning back in my chair. “Tell me.”

Another sigh, and Riley moved over to where I sat, turning his chair so that he could sit and face me directly. “I’m not convinced that there are people here who didn’t let them die, those women and those babies.”

I started, like a shockwave pulsed in my heart. “What do you mean?”

“I think their purpose was twofold: keeping our species from successfully inter-breeding and further fostering hate between us. And I think the Ivaldans we have working on our side were a part of it.”

“But…why?” I asked, aghast. “Why would anyone want a baby to die, least of all what must have been a marvel of modern science…” But Riley gave me a look that indicated how naive that sentiment was, how sheltered I must be from a pervasive sentiment of hate and resentment. “Right. Because they represent a future that they would reject.”

“Exactly. It’s the race wars all over again.” Riley sat back in his chair. “Any history book will point to how this struggle will go, and how it will end.”

“And whose side are you on, exactly?” I said, leaning forward. “You came bursting into Thornfield to uncover the secret of Kaz’s mad wife, you brought me here, interrogated me, convinced me to give over the only information I had that could betray the Ivaldans, and then told me that the resistance itself isn’t telling the whole truth, so tell me, Riley: Whose side are you on?”

“The side of truth,” he said. “The side of honesty and what’s best for everyone currently on this planet, human and Ivaldan alike.” He sighed, raking his fingers through his thick brown hair. “I can’t imagine the terror so many of the resistance women must feel at the prospect of being forced to carry Ivaldan children and dying in the process. And I can’t imagine how it must feel to be an Ivaldan, a dying species, doing whatever they can to stop themselves from becoming a distant memory, a blip in the history of the Universe. But what I can imagine is a horrible, bloody war that dooms us all.”

I nodded my head. Suddenly, I could imagine it as well, plain as day. “So, then,” I said, “I want to help you. I don’t want this to escalate, for anyone on the planet.”

“Thank you, Jane,” Riley said, and reached out to take my hand, giving it a squeeze. “It feels good to finally have an ally.”

“What,” I said, letting him hold my hand. I could feel him running his thumb over the sensitive skin on the back of it. “Your sisters aren’t your allies? Blanche isn’t your ally?”

“I love my sisters,” he said, “and I admire and respect Blanche. But I don’t know that they are on the side of peace. I hope that they are, but…” he shrugged; he didn’t let go of my hand. “They are on the side of protecting the human race, I will give them that. But you…” he squeezed my hand again and finally let it go. “You, I think, are truly my ally.”

“Well,” I said, rising to my feet. “I shall endeavor to be.”

He stood with me, a question in his eyes. But I suddenly felt dizzy, lightheaded, like the room was spinning. And I knew I hadn’t had enough whiskey to be drunk. As I made my way toward the door, I wavered on my feet, and Riley Sinjin was there to catch me before I could fall.

“Whoa,” he said, peering down into my face as he held me upright. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” I said on the wings of an exhale, “just…a little tired. Dehydrated, maybe.”

“Come on,” he said, “let’s get you into bed. You’ve had quite the day.”

“Ok,” I said, but I could see the phosphenes in my eyes even though they were still open. The world around me blurred, and I gripped Riley’s shirt sleeve to steady myself, anchored as I was to his strong hands as they held me up. “Riley…?” I said, as a heaviness overtook me and I dropped to the floor, where everything was cool and black.