From a Distant Star (14 page)

“That is crazy,” I said, but even as the words rolled off my tongue, I realized that it all fit. Everything that had happened: the time frame, the explosion, the reason why Scout’s spaceship had been attacked. I cleared my throat before asking Eric the next question. “So we’re supposed to go up to Erickson Ryder and then what?”

He said, “Then you’ll have to play it by ear. Find someone who works there who seems trustworthy and tell them what happened and ask for their help.”

“What makes you think they’ll help?”

“Because it sounds like Erickson Ryder were the ones making friendly overtures. Scout said the reason his people picked this area is because they’d been receiving friendly signals from north of
here. Scout said his people were systematically working their way closer and closer to see if they could close in on the signal before possibly making contact.”

“He told you that?” I looked at Lucas/Scout, whose face looked like a blank slate. “He said they were systematically working their way closer and closer?”

“Not in so many words,” Eric said. “But I got his meaning.” I must have looked skeptical because he added, “Emma, you’re being kind of mean. You try learning a new language in two weeks and see how you do.”

“Okay,” I said, exhaling. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be that way.”

“So I’m thinking the signals had to be from Erickson Ryder,” Eric said. “And if Scout’s people received these signals from them before, they can get them again. All Erickson Ryder has to do is let them know he’s stuck here and then they can make arrangements to come get him.”

It sounded like one of those plans that are good in theory. You think nothing can go wrong, but something always does. “This Woodcarver guy might be full of it. How do you know for sure that the signals they picked up originated from this Erickson Ryder place?” I asked.

“Have you
been
to northern Wisconsin?” Eric asked. “There’s not much of anything up there. What other place would have the capability to signal outer space?”

“But what if it’s not them?” I asked. “Or what if they don’t even let us through the door? We’re going to sound crazy.” Or maybe it was more that
I
was going to sound crazy. Lucas would just be the silent one standing next to the crazy girl. “I don’t know about this.”

Lucas stepped forward. “We can go and ask,” he said. “Please?” And even though I knew he wasn’t really Lucas, his voice, full of pain and pleading, was Lucas’s like I’d never heard it before. And the sadness and desperation of it just cut right through me.

“But what if they’re actually the people who shot the ship down? Instead of wanting to help us, they might want to kill us.”

“We thought of that too,” Eric said. “But based on what I know about SETI and all, it seems a lot more likely that Erickson Ryder would be the good guys and the hit on the spaceship came from Woodcarver’s people.”

“But you don’t know for sure,” I said.

Eric pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It’s definitely a risk, but what choice do we have? Can you come up with anything better?”

“Maybe if we tell your parents they could—”

“Now who’s talking crazy?” Eric said. “Can you imagine what my mom would say if you told her Lucas was inhabited by an alien from another planet? She’d get all of us committed.”

“Okay, we wouldn’t start with that. Maybe if we showed her his aircraft?” I suggested. “That’s proof of something, right?” I had another thought. “Or maybe your dad might be more open.” Of the two of them, he was nicer, anyway.

“No,” Lucas said, emphatically shaking his head. “Do not tell.”

“She might believe it, if all of us stick to the story.” Both of them looked doubtful, so I tried another approach. “What if I talk to them first? Would you be okay with that?”

Eric shrugged. “I can’t stop you, but for the record, I think it’s a really bad idea.”

“I’m going to go talk to them,” I said, grabbing Lucas’s hand. “They might not believe me, but they’ll believe you.” I saw him glance back as we left the barn and I followed his look to see Eric, who apparently wasn’t budging. “Really?” I yelled back. “You aren’t going to help me out here?”

“You’re on your own, Emma,” he called out. “I told you, it’s a bad idea.”

It took a few minutes to track down Mr. and Mrs. Walker. We eventually found them inside eating lunch, which I took as a good sign since they were already sitting down.

“There you are, Lucas!” Mrs. Walker said as we came into the kitchen. No mention of me, even though her son and I were physically connected and I was the one who brought him in. “Are you ready for some lunch? I can make you a liver sausage sandwich, your favorite.”

“I would like that,” he said. “Thank you.” Eric was right about Scout; now that I was thinking of him as a non-earthling, I could see he’d picked up English pretty quickly.

“Emma?” she asked, getting up from the table. Aha! She
could
see me.

“No thanks,” I said. “I had a late breakfast.”

I waited until she came back with a sandwich and a glass of lemonade for Lucas. He nodded and picked up the sandwich, chewing leisurely, while periodically taking small sips from his glass. I watched as he did it and realized he was studying the way Mr. Walker was eating and following along. Mimicry at its best.

The kitchen table was bathed in indirect sunlight this time of day. It was warm today, but not too hot. The open windows brought in fresh air and I could hear birds singing and the occasional moo of one of the cows. No one spoke. Everyone was busy eating. It was almost a shame to interrupt this tranquil scene with upsetting news, but I had to get it in before they cleaned up and went back to work. There was no time for a leisurely lunch on a farm. It was just a chance to refuel.

I cleared my throat. “Lucas and I have something to tell you and it’s kind of serious.”

“Oh?” Mr. and Mrs. Walker exchanged an alarmed look.

Mrs. Walker pushed her plate away. “What is it?” She looked to her son, who was busy eating and was, I could see, not going to help me out here. She turned her gaze to me, a stricken look on her
face. If it weren’t for the fact that Lucas’s treatment had rendered him sterile, she probably would have jumped to the conclusion that I was pregnant.

“Do you believe that there’s intelligent life on other planets?”

Mrs. Walker frowned. “Other planets? What is this about?”

Her husband looked amused. “Just hang on, dear. I want to see where she’s going with this. Okay, Emma, I’ll play along.” He nodded. “I think with a universe as vast as ours, it would be foolish to discount the idea of intelligent life on other planets, so yes, I would say I’m open-minded on the subject.”

I took his reaction as a good sign and plowed ahead. “Remember that night that we heard the big thud outside? And then the next day, Lucas started to get better?”

Both of them nodded their heads, which was encouraging. Mr. Walker said, “Yes?”

I continued. “And then the government agents came to look for wreckage, but it was weird because there was nothing on the news about an aircraft collision?” Their faces were expectant. They were on board so far; I just needed to get the rest of the story out. Taking a deep breath, I said, “Well, it turns out all of that was connected. Something from another planet landed in the field next to the barn and it set off a chain reaction that caused Lucas to become cured, but now we have another problem.”

“Oh, Emma!” Mrs. Walker scoffed.

“No wait, let me explain.” I held up my hand. “The day the agents came, I found something outside, something I think they were looking for. It looked like a round, sort of metallic disc.” I indicated the size with my hands. “I hid it in the barn. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t give it to them, but it’s a good thing I didn’t.” Now I was hurrying to get it all. “Because it turns out that what I found was, like, a pod, a part of a spaceship from another planet. And the crew member who was in that pod crashed on the farm and went into Lucas’s body, which was good because he cured the cancer,
but now we need to get him out of Lucas’s body and back home so we can get Lucas back.” From the looks on their faces, I’d lost the room. “I’m not explaining it very well, I know, but it’s true.”

Their faces changed from incredulous to angry. They didn’t believe me. “Emma, I don’t know what your angle is, but I’m not enjoying it,” Mrs. Walker said, grimacing. She stacked her plate on top of her husband’s and gathered up the silverware.

“I know it sounds crazy. I didn’t want to believe it either, but it’s true. Right, Lucas?” I cast a look toward Lucas who was slowly chewing his liver sausage sandwich, no reaction at all. “Haven’t you noticed how different he is? Almost like he’s another person?”

Mrs. Walker got up from the table and put a loving hand on her son’s shoulder. “Now you’re just being cruel. Lucas has been working so hard to recover. I don’t think he deserves this nonsense.”

“I can prove it! I’ll show you the pod-thing. Lucas, go out to the barn and get it from Eric.”

Lucas stopped eating and said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“The round, shiny thing. Your pod. Where is it?”

He turned to Mr. Walker. “Emma is joking, I think.”

“Jokes are usually funny,” Mrs. Walker said with disdain, leaving the room with her pile of dishes.

Mr. Walker said, “This isn’t a good day for kidding around, Emma. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“I’ll show you,” I said, pushing my chair back. I left the house, the screen door slamming behind me, and ran all the way to Eric’s barn, where I found him crouched in front of the Pontiac Grand Prix, wiping one of the headlights with a cloth diaper. I rushed in and asked, “Where’s Scout’s pod?”

“Hidden where you won’t find it,” he said, not even looking up.

“Seriously, I need it to show to your parents.”

“Seriously, I’m not giving it to you.”

“Why not?” I glared at him, ready to pound it out of him if I had to. Without the pod as proof, his parents would think I was lying, or else that I had the most horrible sense of humor ever.

“Because it doesn’t belong to you. It’s Scout’s and he doesn’t want other people to see it. He took some kind of oath not to disclose his existence to the people of the planets they were visiting. He was supposed to kamikaze himself when the ship got hit, but he chickened out and now he feels like crap. So don’t make it worse, Emma.”

“Kamikaze himself?”

Eric’s shoulders lifted into a shrug. “Yeah, they had some self-destruct thing they’re supposed to do in emergencies.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I didn’t want to say it in front of him. He feels bad enough already. The only reason he confided in us at all is that he was desperate. We have to respect what he’s going through.”

“I respect what he’s going through. I’m trying to help!” I said, exasperated.

“I know,” he said, finally standing up. “But you’re going about it the wrong way. Telling more people is not going to solve this.”

“You don’t know that. It might.”

“I do know that. It’s not going to help, Emma. It will just make things worse.” He said the words with such conviction that suddenly I believed it.

“But I don’t know what else to do,” I said softly.

“Man up, Emma. You’re not a little kid. You don’t have to go running to the grownups to solve your problems. You can do this.” He came over and gave my shoulder an affectionate squeeze, something he’d never done before. I was struck by how mature he suddenly sounded—how mature he’d been about this whole thing. “I’ll write out directions and program the GPS for you. I’ll even write out some ideas for what you should tell the Erickson Ryder people.”

“You’re not coming with us?” Somehow, I’d pictured this as a group trip, which had been reassuring. Safety in numbers and all that.

“Are you kidding? I’m fourteen. There’s no way my parents would be cool with that. They’d have an Amber Alert out before we barely made it down the road. But you two are a different story. They’ll be pissed off, but there’s not too much they can do about it. Lucas is eighteen, so legally he can do what he wants. We’ll have him leave a note and I’ll try to smooth things over with them after you go. And your mom is used to you being here all day and night, so this won’t be any different.” I must have looked doubtful because he added, “You can call me from the road anytime. It’s just one day, Emma. A five-hour car ride each way. If you leave early in the morning, you guys will be home by nightfall.”

“But what if the Erickson Ryder people can’t help? Or what if they
won’t
help or they don’t believe us or they call the police on us? We aren’t even sure they’re the ones who sent the signal. Maybe we should call first.” Despite my attempts to stay calm, my voice became shriller with every word.

“You’re not going to call first,” he said shaking his head. “No one is going to tell you anything over the phone.”

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my fears at bay. “It’s a long way to go when it might be for nothing. And what if—”

“And what if the whole world explodes before you even get there?” Eric said sarcastically, his fingers widening to act out an explosion.

“That might almost be a relief,” I said.

“Man, you worry a lot,” he said. “It’s either going to be fine or it’s not. Stressing about it is not gonna help. We’ll hope for the best, and if the worst happens, you can just come home. But nothing is going to change unless we try.”

I stood there looking at Eric, who seemed so sure of what to do. Easy for him to say since he’d be safe at home. Meanwhile I’d
be the one driving all the way to Lake Superior and back in a day to try to talk to strange scientists about my possessed boyfriend. And yet, what choice did I have? If we did nothing, I would never get Lucas back. I took a deep breath, ready to dive in and commit.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll do it.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The next day at four in the morning, we left on what I started thinking of as our trip to the unknown. Unknown for a lot of reasons. It was unknown if we’d make it all the way to Ashland in an old car. Unknown if we’d find the Erickson Ryder research facility once we got there. And the biggest unknown yet? If the Erickson Ryder people would have a clue what I was talking about and be willing and able to help us. I couldn’t stop thinking that I might be driving ten hours today for absolutely nothing.