CHAPTER 22 #2
“Merci,” Ellie and I say in tandem, and she brightens at my attempt to speak French, even though I know it’s bad.
We eat slowly, pausing frequently to talk about everything and nothing all at once. A song we somehow both recognize plays, and I hum along. Ellie hums too, a little quieter. I realize she’s harmonizing with me, and I cannot help the grin that forms across my face.
“But you would not sing at karaoke?”
Ellie shakes her head. “I might have been captain of the alto section in high school chorus, but I am not embarrassing myself at a bar in France.”
“That’s a shame,” I say, mostly teasing.
She takes a bite of her ratatouille, and then stares at me contemplatively. “I know that guy at the museum,” Ellie starts, and I lift up my fingers to make quotation marks, “was just a weirdo, but am I the first person to make contact with an alien? Or was there someone else?”
“I am not sure. I mean, as far as I know, we have not made contact with humanity. Sapphiro, typically archivists, have interacted with humans in the past, but we never revealed our true nature,” I share.
“I believe other species—not from Terilia—have made contact, but it was over technology, and humans were never able to fully decipher the communications.”
“What happened to those people?”
“If it was done without being sanctioned by the Intergalactic Unity Senate—isolation, possibly execution. Although the Tetheh are incredibly empathetic, the other senators in the Intergalactic Unity are…more intense and ruthless. I would judge, but we have all had to form our laws and choices around what keeps our people safe. Who is to say which way is right or wrong?”
Compared to other intergalactic governments, mine is a lot more forgiving. It is why I am okay going home in the first place. I know they will just make me serve some sort of miserable assignment and bar me from ever returning to Earth, but they will not take my life.
Unless they find out about Ellie. And even then, I think the Tetheh would fight for me against the rest of the Senate. I am just not sure they can win if it is everyone against Terilia. But I will not allow that to happen.
We finish our meal and make our way to the bus station, where there are shuttles that can take us to Vanoise National Park.
“Over there,” Ellie says, pointing to a sign that reads Pralognan-la-Vanoise.
Taking our seats, we wait for our ride, emotions and hormones spreading through my body like a wildfire. I feel everything and nothing all at once.
Excitement and anticipation toward finding the edelweiss, sadness and despair regarding saying goodbye, nervousness and exhaustion about what happens next with me on Terilia. It is a lot, and I am envious of the sapphiro I was yesterday.
But I am not envious of who I was just one week ago. That version of me did not know Ellie, had never explored France, and had a warped perspective of humanity.
And maybe even of myself.
I never want to go back to who I was before, despite how much I know this will destroy me.
Our shuttle arrives, and Ellie and I hop in, taking a seat in the third row. I lean against the window, and Ellie leans on me, resting her head on my shoulder.
I can feel the electricity running the shuttle, the pulses of Ellie’s heart, and my own rushing blood, but none of those feelings can mask the ache in my chest.
The sun is setting, casting the mountain in pinks and oranges, and it reminds me of one of the murals we saw earlier. Humans seem to do that a lot, allowing their art to imitate the world around them—to imitate life itself. They paint animals and flowers, mountains and oceans.
And had I been given a paintbrush growing up, and a skyline like the one before me, I would have chosen to do the same.
When we arrive at the hotel, it is so close to the mountainside that I nearly gasp. Hotel L’Edelweiss, the sign above reads.
“Is that seriously the name?” I ask in astonishment.
“I chose it just for you,” Ellie answers, both cheeks flushing pink.
We check into our room, which only has one bed, but this time it was intended that way, and head down the hallway, practically speedwalking. Neither of us want this to be over, but I think we are both ready to be out of outside clothes (and disguises), and just relax for a moment.
The hotel room is beautiful, with a large window overlooking the mountainside. Everything is made of dark wood, a herringbone pattern framing the bed.
Taking out my BLEND and contacts in the bathroom, I relieve myself before sitting next to Ellie, who appears to be staring at a map on her phone.
“Is all of that just the mountains?”
She shakes her head, her thick, brown hair billowing down her back. “No, this is just the accessible trails where we’ve been cleared to hike.”
“The more I see of France, the more I envy how much space you have to roam. Sapphiron was like that, from what I have been told. Endless fields of green and oceans of blue,” I say, yearning for something I will never have. “I wish I could see the rest of this planet.”
Ellie smiles. “Maybe you will! I’d love to visit Terilia one day. If you asked, do you think there’s a possibility they would let me?”
“No,” I say sternly.
Her smile fades, replaced by furrowed brows and a scowl. “I know it’s unlikely they’d actually let me come to Terilia. I was trying to be optimistic, and I thought you’d be proud of that.”
“I like that you are realistic.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t. Not right now. Not if it means saying goodbye.
” Her shoulders slump, but there is still a glint of determination in her eyes.
“Why can’t you just ask if I can come to Terilia?
I’ll swear an oath. I’ll tell them everything I know about humanity!
And I can wear a microphone when I come back home so they can monitor me and ensure I’m not sharing their secrets. ”
I felt the same way as her yesterday and the days prior. Considering different plans, weighing my options, writing scripts in my head to try and form any plausible way to convince my government to let Ellie be the exception to the rule.
But it is too dangerous, and it would ruin everything she has built here. Her life would never be the same again, and I cannot allow that to be my fault.
I would rather live knowing she is out here on Earth making discoveries, occasionally smelling the flowers and thinking of me, achieving her dreams, than witness her wither away on Terilia.
On Terilia, where there are no bones, no humans, no boats, no beaches, nothing.
On Terilia, where she would be surveilled until her last breath.
My knuckles turn white as my hands ball into fists. “No, Ellie, they cannot even learn you exist. Tomorrow, when I get the flower, I am going to leave and never mention you again. Not out loud, not to anyone.”
“Because you’d get in trouble?”
“Because I have no idea what they would do to you, and I could not live with myself if you were injured—or worse—in the process.” Tears line my eyes, and I try to blink them away, remembering what I was taught.
But I was always different. I talked too much, did not follow the rules, did not want to live the way that was expected of me. And now I have learned so much about Earth, and I can only fathom the way other species and planets live, and it has changed me.
Ellie wraps her arms around my waist, squeezing me firmly, and we lie on the bed, a tangle of limbs and body heat.
And I let the tears fall.
Here, next to Ellie, this human who has taught me about Earth, and even more about myself, where I feel safe to do so. She is bright and warm like sunshine.
She is the light that allows me to grow.