One-Way

Ben had slumped as low as his desk would allow him. It wasn’t that he was afraid of being called on, or that he was trying to convey an air of teenage indifference—he was simply more comfortable this way. His torso was long and thin, almost freakishly so, and it was only by sitting in such a slump that he could rest his upper back. He let his chin fall to his chest, his bangs sliding in front of his eyes. A huff of impatience made them flutter. He was dying to check the time again, but he knew it would only make the period go by slower.

Suddenly, he sat up. Mr. Martin had spoken the one word that could make him pay attention.
“…test on Tuesday. Obviously, you should have been studying the First Galactic War for the past two weeks, but since I’m an incredibly thoughtful and generous person, I’ll hold an afterschool review on Monday. Yes, Ben?”
“I won’t be here on Tuesday. My family’s going on vacation.”
“Well, isn’t that unfortunate. You’ll make it up on Wednesday, then.” Ben inwardly smirked. He would have plenty of time to study on the plane. Though he would probably end up falling sleep, he allowed himself to believe that he would be productive.
Finally, the day came to a close. Ben ran down the steps, impatiently weaving in and out of the large groups of kids that clustered around the school, obnoxious and seemingly ever-present. He spotted the family car, and made a beeline for it. Opening the back door, he clunked down heavily in the seat next to his sister. The inside of the car held a chaos almost as great as the one he had just left behind. His parents were arguing about how much fuel supplement they would need to get to the airport, while his sister whined for apple juice. The radio was blaring the government-run news station, as was always the case when his father drove. Since the Kii had taken over after the Third Galactic War, all news came from the government. Ben’s dad and Mr. Martin were always complaining about it. Well, Ben’s dad complained about it. Mr. Martin could technically lose his job if he spoke out against the Kii, but he found ways to make his opinions known. Ben didn’t really care where the news came from. He wished his mother was driving. Then they could listen to classic rock.
He shoved on his ear buds, hoping to drown out some of the noise. Of course, this seemed to be the signal for everyone to notice he had arrived. His sister pulled an ear bud from his ear. “Cara! Don’t do that!”
“Mommy said we can get Lunchables, Ben!” she crowed, oblivious to his annoyance. “I can get the pizza one!”
“Yeah, sure you can. Hey Mom, I’m going to get McDonald’s once we’re there. “His mother, a heavy-set woman with flowing red hair, turned awkwardly in her seat to face him. “That’s not going to last very long on the plane, you know.” Ben rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously I’m going to eat before we get on the plane.” His mom gave him a skeptical look. “Okay, honey. Just don’t come crying to me when we’re a thousand feet up in the air and you want a snack.” Ben rolled his eyes once more, and resumed his natural slump. His dad shouted to him over the radio, not thinking to turn down the volume. “How was school?” Ben shrugged. “Fine. Normal.”
“Did you talk to Ms. Rodriguez?” He hadn’t. “Umm… she was out sick today.” Even without the ability to see him, Ben could tell what face his father was making. “Ben, you’d better talk to her soon. Learning Spanish will take the whole year, and if you don’t start now—“
“Dad, I don’t want to learn Spanish. Barely anyone speaks these weird languages. I already know Kiishem—“
“I won’t hear this, Ben. You’ll talk to Ms. Rodriguez when we get back.” And just like that, the matter was settled. Cara took out a Barbie doll and began carefully dressing it in something sparkly. “You shouldn’t play with those things,” said Ben. “They’re freaky.” Cara clutched the doll to her chest protectively. “She is not! She’s pretty and nice and beautiful and caring and—“
“Okay, okay!” Ben snorted. Cara pouted. The family drove onto the highway, leaving the trees of Brooklyn for glass high-rises, ki-cops on scooters, and a few old cars like their own. Ben put on his dangling ear bud and zoned out for the rest of the car ride, forehead mushed against the window. The sun was already low in the sky, an effect of winter that he still hadn’t adjusted to. By the time they had reached the airport, Cara had to shake him awake. The family clambered out of the car and proceeded to divide up the luggage. Of course, Ben had to drag around Cara’s suitcase. He envied her freedom from carrying things.
They split Ben and his dad up from the girls once they had retrieved their boarding passes. The line for security would take about an hour, thankfully. On weekends it could be horrendous. They stripped to their underwear, and the line began to shuffle forward. Ben really wanted to listen to his music, but he knew it would annoy his dad. Besides, his dad already seemed to be in a bit of a mood.
“Ben, do you know why I read so much?” Ben shrugged. “It’s fun for you?” Dad almost smiled at that. “No, although it can be fun. I read because they don’t want us to.” Dad glanced at the Kii checking boarding passes at the front of the line. Ben frowned. “But isn’t President Lkra always talking about education?” His dad grimaced. “Sure. Their education. How humans were helpless until the Kii showed up. How they’ve protected us from ourselves. All that crap they teach you in school. That’s not education, son. That’s propaganda. No, you won’t get an education from school. That’s why I read, Ben. If you don’t read, you won’t know your history. Not this bullshit they feed to you. Your real history. The old wars, the things that happened when there were only us humans here on Earth. Ben—“
Thankfully, the line sped up before his dad could continue his lecture. Ben suspected it would have culminated in another “project,” researching some old dead guy. But even his dad wouldn’t be bold enough to talk this way in front of a Kii. She held out her hand, which would have looked human if it had had fingernails. That’s what always made it uncomfortable to look at the Kii—they were so human, yet so not. Same bodies, but slightly too tall. Same heads, same faces, but no eyes. Tiny black eyes sprung up in the oddest places on a Kii—on the backs of their hands and necks, on the tops of their feet (also nail-less), on their stomachs. And they were bald, completely smooth and hairless. No matter how many times he saw them, they gave Ben little shivers in his spine.
After checking their boarding passes, she directed them towards a security room, where a slender male Kii scanned them for weapons and drugs. Not that anyone would be stupid enough to try bringing a weapon on board. Then they were shepherded to a sterile room, where a doctor gave them anti-viral injections. Finally, they were deposited in a changing room with their clothes. Ben smiled at a nervous young boy who was clearly flying for the first time.
By the time they had woven their way through the airport, gotten food at the various shops, dealt with a mini Cara-tantrum and finally boarded, the sky was completely dark. They squeezed onto the cramped plane and collapsed into their seats. Ben nabbed the window seat before anyone else could. He knew it was childish, but he loved watching the faraway world shrink and disappear. He felt drowsy—a side effect of the anti-viral and a large order of fries, no doubt. He shoved in his ear buds and let himself fall asleep.
He awoke to a bouncy Cara poking him in the shoulder. “Ben, we’re here, stop sleeping!” He blinked, wondering how she could be so peppy at this ungodly hour. His mom leaned over and smiled at his sleep-enamored face. “How was your nap?”
“Great, until it ended,” he muttered. “How long will it take us to get to Gram’s?”
“Only an hour or so. They’re picking us up in their car.” Cara beamed. She loved car rides, and two in one day was beyond awesome. They stretched and got up, shuffling off the plane like tired cows. His dad’s hair was insanely messy. It took all of Ben’s willpower not to laugh at him. The airport was suddenly bright after the stale darkness of the plane. Dad thrust some luggage at him, which Ben took, too tired to even think of objecting. With only two arguments, they found their way out of the airport. Warm Florida air greeted Ben like a hug, smelling so sweet after the artificial air of the past five hours. A vintage minivan was waiting right outside. Ben grinned as Grandpa got out of the car. He had once had red hair like his daughter, but it was now a blinding white. He was the sort of man who is perpetually smiling, and who claims they are in better health now than they were in their twenties. He grabbed Ben in a manly sort of hug, twirled around a giggling Cara, shook Dad’s hand, and kissed Mom, all the while throwing greetings at all of them simultaneously. “Ben! Cara! How’ve you been? Honey, great to see you. Ben, you’re a man now! Jack, how’re you doing? Cara, you’re so tall!” He helped them shoved the luggage into the car. After some negotiation over who got to sit with Grandpa in the front, they piled in and drove off along the highway. As they drove, Grandpa chattered with Mom. Ben tuned out, and eventually dosed off.
He’s on the plane. Cara’s sitting next to him. She’s asleep. He is too. Well, his body is. But he can hear. He hears two flight attendants talking, a few rows back from where they’re sitting. They’re both Kii, he can tell. Kii have low voices, as though they’ve all been smoking since birth. He strains to hear what they’re saying.
“As soon as they’re all under, I’m headed out. Je-kel’s fertile this month.”
“Oh, good luck! I wish I had a mate. Anyway, we should be good to go in a few. 12B and 31D are the only ones awake, and they won’t be for much longer.” Ben tries to hear more, but they’re walking further away.
Ben woke with a start as the car lurched forward, his seatbelt catching him unnecessarily. Grandpa cussed, setting Cara off in a fit of giggles. Shaking off the weirdness of the dream, Ben got out of the car and helped unload the luggage. The sound of the ocean hit him, and he turned to look at the dark waves. It smelled like it always did, of salt and cold rock. Gram and Grandpa lived in a tiny beachfront town, in a small house with a vegetable garden. Ben loved it here, as much as he had when he was little. They went inside quietly, trying not to wake Gram. Grandpa saw Ben’s sleepy eyes. “Well, I’m sure these kids could stay up for hours, but I’m tuckered out. How about we finish catching up in the morning?” Ben nodded gratefully. He found the air mattress, and after watching it sadly squish under his touch, he decided he would generously give it to Cara. Ignoring the fact that he was still wearing jeans, he dove onto the couch and immediately fell asleep.
He’s on the plane. Cara’s next to him. They’re still asleep. He can’t hear anything. He wants to open his eyes, but it feels as though they are weighed down with stones. He tries again. When he realizes he can’t, it suddenly becomes imperative that he do so. He tries to move an arm, shift a knee. Nothing will move. His heart is pounding; he feels like he has a fever. Something is wrong. Something is wrong. Something is wrong.
When he woke, his heart was still pounding. He breathed deeply, reminding himself that it was stupid to be scared of a dream. The light was streaming in through the windows, beautiful and annoyingly bright. He slowly sat up, limbs stiff and sore. Like a dog whistle, the smell of bacon called him to the kitchen. The house was waking up. Gram was curled up in her chair, tiny and frail. “Hello Benjamin,” she said with a soft smile. Everything about Gram was soft, like she had been draped in fleece all her life. “I’m sorry I wasn’t awake when you got in.”
“Aw, don’t worry about it.” He bent over to give her a gentle hug, and cringed slightly when an exuberant Cara nearly bounced into her lap. “Grammy!”
“Hi, sweetie! Look at you, so big. How old are you now, twenty-five?” Cara giggled and blushed. Ben decided his morning would be better occupied with the bacon. Moving over to where Grandpa was stationed at the stove, he snagged a piece from the greasy pile on the counter. “Hey, I saw that!” Grandpa flashed Ben his famous smile. “Why don’t you put out the juice and the plates?”
“Sure.” He chewed the bacon thoughtfully as he set the table, wondering what pig-bacon had tasted like. Apparently his dad had eaten it when he was a little kid. He always complained about it now, saying that tofu and mushrooms could never compare. Whatever. Ben thought he could certainly live off of the stuff. As his parents made their way into the kitchen, he sat down at the table.
He’s on the plane. Cara’s sleeping next to him. Her head is resting on his shoulder. He can open his eyes, but only just. And he can hear the Kii, who seem to be sitting right in front of him, in the seats that were unoccupied when they boarded.
“What do they tell them it is?”
“Some sort of anti-viral injection, I think. It’s plausible enough. Their kind are so suspicious of us, and so susceptible to diseases.”
“And ideas,” says the other. They laugh. Something is wrong. But why can’t he move?
“Ben?” His mother was looking at him strangely. “Did you hear me?”
“What… I wasn’t sleeping….”
Mom laughed. “You must still be tired. I swear, he could sleep for days,” she confided to her mother. They chuckled conspiratorially. Ben looked around him in confusion. Could he have blacked out? What had just happened? No one seemed to be very concerned. So that couldn’t have been very long. But it had felt so real, almost clearer than the dreams had been. Had he imagined it? Cara reached over him for the butter. He couldn’t shake that feeling, the feeling that something was wrong, and he had to fix it.
It was tradition at Gram’s house for everyone to go to the beach together on the first day of vacation. After breakfast, the family took a while to get ready. Swimsuits had to be put on, toys had to be packed, and sunscreen had to be meticulously applied to their pale skin. The latter was supervised by their father, who was ever concerned for their dermatological well-being. At long last, they made the five-minute trek to the oceanfront. Grandpa raced Cara to the water, shortly followed by Mom. Dad helped prop Gram up in a chair, then settled down with his book. Ben was about to go to the water, but as he kicked his shoes off, he watched Gram. She was pretty old, and not a wealth of information like Dad, but she had good instincts. She knew things. Maybe she would know what was happening. He pulled up a chair.
“Ben, you should go join your sister in the water! It’s such a beautiful day.” He smiled. “Maybe later, Gram. I wanted to ask you about this dream I keep having.” Gram looked at him. “Go on, Ben.”
He told her of the plane, of the Kii. He told her of the conversations he had heard. He told her about how it had happened while he was awake, too. “And every time it happens, I just… I get this sense, that something’s off. That I have to fix. Is that weird?” She smiled. “No, I don’t think so.” She looked at her family, playing in the water. “I don’t know what it means, Ben. But it’s happened three times now. I think that means you’re supposed to pay attention.”
Ben nodded.
He’s on the plane. Cara is resting on his shoulder. The Kii are still in front of him. This time, he isn’t confused. He immediately begins to listen to their conversation.

“I wonder what Florida was like.”
“Oh, you didn’t visit before Z-12?”
“No, I was working on Demolition Site 1346 at the time.”
“Oh, I know someone who worked on that site. What was it called, again?”
“Edinburgh. Nice place. Pity, really.”
“I know. So many lovely places, destroyed. I don’t know why they chose Site 987 for the lab.”
“Well, I think it’s because of the diversity. New York had one of the highest cultural and socioeconomic diversity rates at the time of Z-12. They wanted a random sample; I guess this was as close as they could get.”
“That makes sense. But still, I wish they could have found a reason to keep the rest of the humans intact. They’re not all bad.”
“You know they would have destroyed Earth if we hadn’t gotten here in time. What do you think all this is for? The simulated travel, the fabricated history, the virtual cities? One day, they might be able to get it all back, but they can’t know the extent to which we interfered. We have to keep studying the population’s behavior. Then we might have a new ‘Florida’ some day.”
Ben opens his eyes. An alarm goes off over his seat.