“Mommy.”
Laura rubbed her face and jerked her head to the side. Prying open tired eyes, she looked into an unfamiliar space. Shocked awake, her now conscious brain struggled to move into this new place. She was not home. She was lying on an overstuffed sofa, covered with an afghan blanket. The room was a cliché 1960s theme—pastel walls, shag carpet, a wood-paneled console television along a wall, playing a black-and-white image with a looped broadcast. There were family photos on the wall, filled with people that she didn’t recognize.
“Mommy,” Katy said, shaking her arm.
Laura pulled her in, suddenly remembering her last thoughts when she was hiding in the woods, trying to keep Katy safe. But now Katy was here and she was clean, wearing a yellow cotton gown. Her hair was soft, washed and tied back, a concave bowl attached to the top of her head. Remembering, Laura’s hand swung up, checking her own head; she wore the same device. She noticed she was also dressed in the same yellow clothing. “Katy… where—?”
“You were sleeping, Momma. The people gave us food,” she said.
Laura pushed herself up, feeling disoriented and struggling to recall the gaps in her memory. In the corner of the room was a small dining table; on the top was a brown tray with cut sandwiches and stainless steel cups. “Did you eat it?” she said, tension building in her voice. “Who put it there?”
A hissing sound, the clunk of a lock, and the door swung in. A backlit figure stood in the opening and lurched a cautious step forward. “The consumables are safe; we have no reason to poison you.”
The voice was soft and familiar; it appeared in her thoughts rather than her ears. Katy was on her feet before Laura could stop her. She moved past the being and climbed to the table, grabbing a sandwich. She took a bite and looked back at her mother, smiling.
Dressed head to toe in baby-blue linens that reminded Laura of hospital smocks, the creature slid another step toward her, and the heavy door swung closed behind it. Feminine features, tanned skin, petite and slender, it was smaller than any woman Laura had ever met. The thing’s head was free of hair, its face perfectly shaped like a store mannequin. Its lips moved when it spoke in a foreign tongue, but Laura was somehow able to comprehend the words. “Are you comfortable?”
With graceful movements, the creature moved closer. It looked at Laura and blinked its piercing blue eyes. Passing through the room, it sat gently on a chair across from her and smiled with perfect rose-tinted lips.
Laura looked away, repulsed; her head spinning.
“Don’t be alarmed; it’s your knowledge plate. The discomfort will soon pass as your system adjusts,” the alien said.
Laura’s eyes focused on Katy at the table. Again she went to speak, but the creature stopped her with an uplifted six-fingered hand. Laura’s gaze found the table where a notepad and pen lay just in front of her.
“The food is safe. It meets all of your nutritional needs,” the alien said.
“Why am I here? What do you want with us?” Laura sat up. Leaning forward, she let her hand pass over the notepad and palmed the pen. She pulled it into her grip and slipped her hand to her thigh.
“Why are you here?” the thing responded in turn.
“I don’t understand; you brought me here.”
“Then you concede that we were here first?” The thing nodded and crossed its hands into its lap. “Understanding will be the key to our partnership.”
Laura shifted in position. Sitting up further, she looked the alien in the eye, squeezing the pen in her grip, emboldened by the firmness of it. “Partnership? Who are you?”
“I am Thera, your guide.”
“What do you want?”
“I am but one of many. I don’t want anything.”
Laura, not waiting any longer, lunged at the creature, arms outstretched, stabbing down with the tip of the pen. It did no good. Before she cleared half the distance, the alien shifted to the side smoothly and opened its hand, freezing her. She fell back into the cushions. Her legs still bent, she tilted to the side awkwardly, her eyes now fixed on the ceiling.
“Your knowledge plate gives away your intentions. You have shown strong restraint characteristics, Mrs. Laura Anderson; your peers were not so cordial in our first meeting.” The alien paced across the room to the exit and turned the knob. The creature looked back to Laura and flashed six fingers. Laura felt immediate relief, the feeling returning to her muscles, her heart rapidly beating in her chest.
“When you have rested, we will have more to discuss.”
Laura’s head panned to Katy, who was still sitting at the table, unaware of the tension in the room. The door opened and two men entered, both dressed in dark-blue coveralls. The taller of the two carried a clipboard and a bundle of folded, yellow clothing. The shorter man stepped forward, smiling. He wore a close-cropped beard, the rest of his head nearly bald. She noticed that both men were wearing the gold discs on their heads. The tall man waved to Katy as he passed the alien that was leaving the room, the door closing behind it.
“Mrs. Anderson?” the short man said in a thick French accent. “It is good to see you awake. Are you finding everything you need?”
Laura stretched her back, numbness fading as blood rushed to her muscles. Her hand moved up to squeeze the pained muscles in her neck. She pushed forward and quickly got to her feet, edging away from the visitors and standing between them and Katy. “Who are you?”
The shorter man smiled and dropped his hands, showing palms in a submissive stance. “My name is Francis; this is Ernesto.
