Carmen waved her hand where the cone of light had just been. “Hello? Hello?”
The door shifted and the mom-creature appeared. But she was having difficulty moving and it quickly became apparent why.
The robot with Peter’s face clung to her partially severed arm. The mom-creature dragged him into the room as if she were chained to a fallen tree branch. His legs dangled limp and one of them was half-missing.
The mom-creature considered them both. “Jennacarmen…Jennacarmen…you’re here…you’re here. We were in trouble…but now we’re safe.”
Carmen tried to pull Jenna away as the mom-creature limped towards them, but her sister wasn’t moving. So Carmen stepped forward to shield Jenna.
“Stay back. Mom, if you’re in there somewhere, you need to listen to me. Something’s wrong with you. You’re frightening us.”
“Don’t be frightened, my sweet girl.”
“Then answer my questions. Tell us what you did to bring us here inside…these machines.”
“Jennacarmen, I need you. But you’ll have to be strong.”
The mom-creature paused at the center of the light display. With her free hand she began making rapid gestures in the air. The lights and symbols responded and new symbols appeared, shifted, and vanished in rapid succession.
Peter hadn’t released the mom-creature’s arm. The fingers of his other hand were dug into the gray material of the mom-creature’s chest and shoulder and had left gashes. His own body had similar wounds, with long scratches rent down his back. His face screen was partially crushed, distorting the image of his face.
He was murmuring the whole time. “Lord, save me because of your kindness. Lord, save me. Save me, save me, save me…”
The mom-creature ignored him as she worked. “Jennacarmen, we’ll be together soon.”
Jenna allowed Carmen to lead her away towards the back of the room. “Car, why does she keep calling us that?”
“I don’t know. She’s confused. She doesn’t seem to know we’re both here.”
The mom-creature spoke without shifting her attention from her work. “There’s so much to show you. Once we fix…once we fix…we’ll have the best reunion, you and I. It will be like our Sunday breakfasts, mom and daughter time. You’ll have the pancakes with all the syrups mixed together. You’ll have all the time you ever wanted to practice and play your instruments.”
Carmen realized she was only partially correct. The mom-creature spoke of them as if they were one person. Jenna had gone with her mother on their weekend outings and to breakfasts at the Bumbleberry. But Carmen was the one who’d played music.
Mom had pressured her to take band. It would look good on her college transcript for a well-rounded student, she insisted. Carmen had chosen trombone and then had proceeded to almost fail the class. So much for the easy A to bump up her grade point average.
It hadn’t helped that her hearing had been on the way out. But she loved playing, had taken to the instrument, had even gotten a couple of other girls to try to start their own Specials cover band. She had learned enough guitar and piano to stand in for most of the other parts, but the band flopped before it had even begun. But making band class on time and completing assignments and turning in practice sheets?
Not while the Vincent family imploded.
“Mom, if you can hear me, stop whatever you’re doing and talk to us. We’re right here. If you’re in trouble, we want to help, both Jenna and I. But right now we’re both scared. If we’re really on board a spaceship, then take us home. Fix whatever you did to us. Mom?”
“Oh, Jennacarmen, there isn’t time for that. If only there were. If we don’t hurry, it will be too late for all of us. But if we act quickly, we might survive. Somewhere out there, we’ll make it. And it will be together.”
“Where’s our real bodies?”
“Flesh and blood won’t inherit the stars.”
“Explain that to me. What do you mean?”
She didn’t answer. Her free hand continued to manipulate the virtual controls. Carmen edged closer. Tried to understand what any of the symbols meant. The surrounding spaceship made no sounds and she felt no sense of motion. If they were taking off from Earth, wouldn’t they be pulled down to the floor?
Meanwhile Peter had stopped praying. He hung limp, still attached to the mom-creature by one hand. But then his head turned. He locked eyes with Carmen. The madness from earlier was there in full force.
“Mom, look out—”
Peter swung his free hand up. His fingers hacked into the base of the mom-creature’s neck. He then pulled his other arm away before leaping up to slash at her a second time. The mom-creature’s head tumbled as the body collapsed.
“Peter, what did you do?”
He spun on her. Took a step forward. Then the screen with his face went dark. His body froze in place. Carmen watched him for a moment and waved a hand before his eyes.
No response.
“What happened to him?” Jenna asked.
“I don’t know. Let’s not wait for him to wake up again.”
When she headed for the exit, Jenna followed. But even as the doorway reappeared, the walls, the ship, and the room around them became hazy. It felt as if her head was stuffed with cotton. The hot itchy feeling returned for a moment before she went numb. She thrust out a hand and leaned on the wall.
Her sister ran to her side. She was saying something, but once again Carmen couldn’t hear her.
Carmen tried to speak. Her voice wouldn’t work.
The encroaching haze became blackness.
Chapter Ten
Someone wearing a bright yellow space suit pointed a gun at her.
All Carmen could register was the barrel of a black pistol waving in her face. Shouting, too, but the words were a blur and she couldn’t see
