Chapter 1
WILLOW
I should have been grateful to survive the apocalypse.
People had speculated how the world would end since the dawn of civilization. Theories of floods and asteroids gave way to talk of alien invasions, mutated monsters and solar wipeouts. Movies were filmed, books were written, and over time the matter alternated from seriousness to a trivial entertainment trope. What no one had considered was the after part of the end of the world, the subsequent chaos and rebuilding without an end in sight.
The room I waited in now was a tall, open hangar operating as a base for the United States Navy. It was the hottest day so far in the year, mid-June, and a large fan nearby tuned out the crickets chirping outside and the murmurs and typing of the overworked pencil pushers within. Near the entry I’d just come in through, one flap of the tent kept blowing outward and admitting more of the hot air in. My eyes landed on a plaque naming the location, its position in the navy, and its commanding officers.
“Are you here for a job?” The man who asked me stood in full navy uniform, a tall figure with blue eyes and a name tag that read Wang.
“Yes,” I said, fingers curling around my leatherette purse strap. A housefly buzzed around me and landed on my arm, and I swatted it away.
“Have a seat.” He pointed to a small metal chair on one side of a folding table.
It had been three months since “normal,” since before the aliens, but already my old life felt like a distant dream. Before the insanity started, I had spent my days working as an usher for Minnow Cinema and a substitute teacher at the local middle school. My nights I had spent with boxed wine and a rotation of TV subscriptions in a state of unending spinsterhood, doomed to an apartment that didn’t even allow cats. Both jobs had gone down the drain after the government announced the existence of intelligent alien life.
No one knew what to think of the news at first. The statement was issued by joint world leaders and broadcast everywhere simultaneously. We were told to remain calm, that we were working peacefully with the aliens who wished to bring us into their age of star-struck luxuries. To the relief of some and the disappointment of others, this didn’t lead to an end of war or a unified world government, but instead to anarchy and mob rule. The cities tumbled first in their riots. Then came the shortages, the backups and blackouts, the hysterical sensation that we were nothing but a blip on the screen of a fascinating and gigantic universe brimming with intelligent life. Whether the aliens were friendly or not didn’t matter. The one thing that mattered was that our old position at the top of the food chain was gone forever. Humanity was only a small piece of the puzzle that spanned the universe.
“Canary?” asked Wang as I slipped my paperwork before him.
“That’s right.” The fly landed again on my arm, in the same spot as before. I pretended not to notice it.
Human canaries were test subjects, explorers. The galaxy was opened to intelligent life, but none of its venues had been tested yet for human consumption. Was the atmosphere breathable? Was the floor stable, the sounds within an acceptable range and the colors visible? Canaries were the ones who answered those questions through experience.
“Your contract will last for three months,” said Wang. “You’ll have ninety days stationed in space before returning here to the base. You brought your luggage along, right?”
“I left it outside on the platform.”
He nodded. “Good. On your return, we’ll pay five hundred thousand dollars to your account and give you your certificate.”
“That sounds like more money than it is,” I observed.
“Would your old job pay better?”
I smiled at him and shook my head.
“I didn’t think so. Let’s get on with your physical. Can you read the sign back there?” asked Wang. He shifted back in his chair and pointed to a vision chart pinned to the wall behind him.
I recited the letters.
“Now stand up and touch your toes.”
I stood, and I touched them.
Wang passed me three sheets of paper to sign. “One for you, one for us, and one for your employer,” he said.
I read the terms carefully. No one had died yet as a canary, but the program was constantly changing and in its current state had only been in place for two weeks. I was signing my life to this project. I wouldn’t be able to come back if I changed my mind. I wouldn’t take anything on the trip. Everything I had more than the clothes on my back and an old book had to stay here at the base, where they’d mail it to my sister and next of kin.
Then I signed. Willow Rivera for me, Willow Rivera for the navy, and Willow Rivera for whoever took me from here. “How long will I need to wait?” I asked as I slid the papers back.
“We can’t afford to wait. We’ll take you this minute.” Wang signed his own name under mine and added a time and date. Then he stood, paced around the table to my side, and extended a hand. “Welcome to the US Navy, Miss Rivera,” he said.
I stood and shook it.
“If you place your phone in the basket here, we’ll send it back to your contact. No digital technology is allowed.”
I nodded.
Wang continued. “We have your placement already, and they should be ready to go immediately. Do you see that ship right there?”
He pointed to something I would have assumed to be an elaborate tourist grab if it weren’t for the seriousness of the situation. The underside of the vessel was silver and glimmered hotly in the sunlight. The topside was more of a matte slate gray, forming an elongated disk that took an entire runway.
I stepped forward. I knew that leaving immediately was a possibility, but I wished I could have at least a day or two to mentally prepare. “It looks like you could fit a full shopping mall in there.”
Wang nodded. “If you say so. It belongs to a traveling Chromian band, the Cosmic Craze. They’re on tour and want their venues acceptable to humans. Their previous arrangement didn’t work, so we promised them someone else.”
“On tour?” I echoed the word dumbly. To me, aliens were formal and official, not meddling with our private lives but in constant and unending talks with our rulers and legislation. I didn’t know what that term meant, on tour.
Wang shrugged. “They’re a rock band. Or the space age equivalent, at least. Their tour will last all of your three months, so it should be an easy gig. Come out with me and I’ll introduce you to the manager.”
I followed him, fanning myself semi-consciously in the late spring heat. It still didn’t feel real, not any of it. I was standing here in a navy base walking out to a starship, and a part of me still thought I was dreaming, sleeping in on a weekday morning.
Nearby was a parking lot, fenced off with bold orange cones and a warning that we were in a classified region and that no photos or unqualified personnel were allowed. I felt like I was breaking a dozen regulations by walking back here. I hardly knew what I was doing.
A breeze washed over me the moment I stepped into the sunlight. The sky was blue, and I guessed it was a beautiful day to leave the planet. I’d left my apartment a month ago and moved in with my sister Emma and her new husband. I’d been living on a couch since then, battling a looming mental breakdown and wondering if I even had a place in the chaotic new world disorder.
Emma was the one who linked me to the canary program last week. I laughed when I first saw the brochure, but she said that with the money they offered, she’d take the job herself if she wasn’t tied down via marriage. She had a point. Stable jobs didn’t exist anymore, so why not join the navy and travel the stars? It could be a lot of fun. The web page featured interviews with people talking about the wonders of alien cultures and star travel and fine dining. Canaries got to live the best life in order to prove that life in deep space was safe for celebrities and presidents.
We stood near a narrow metal staircase that led to the main door of the ship. “They’ll take care of languages and translation, food, water, and a place to stay should you need it,” said Wang, resting his hand on the railing and then removing it as it touched his skin. “At the end of your three months, we’ll send a shuttle out to take you back home, where you’ll find your payment waiting in the bank. Thanks again for your service.”
A door slid open, and a round man in a striped gray and brown suit disembarked. I noticed a pair of tiny tusks poking over his bottom lip as he descended. An alien. This was my first sighting in real life. Other than the tusks, he appeared mostly human, with a bald brown head and a couple of warts dotting his face. Behind him came a second figure, someone tall and angelic and whom I suddenly couldn’t look at because of the way the sun illuminated him from behind. I held my hand up as a visor. This second person had feathery white hair, a shiny red jacket and lips drawn in a narrow pout as he paused a moment on the top of the stairs.
“Alizar, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Wang, shaking one of the round man’s hands in both of his heartily. “This is Willow Rivera, the new canary you asked for.”
“Wang, Willow,” Alizar said with a hint of a lisp. “Your language lends itself well to alliteration.”
I blushed, but I had hardly heard Alizar’s greeting. Right now I couldn’t look away from the second figure, and for a moment the man in the jacket glanced at me as well. But the look he gave me wasn’t one of wonder. It was disdain, and only disdain that someone who was that impossibly glamorous could show. “Are you really the best the human navy has to offer?” he asked, lips pulling up in a sneer.
Alizar pulled him to the side with a word in an alien language and then turned to us. “My apologies. Zylon Mars, our featured vocalist. Zylon, this is Willow Rivera.”
Zylon half-worded my name but refused to shake my hand. “Alizar. A word. Now,” he said.
“Of course.” Alizar began to follow his charge and turned back. “Feel free to get settled on our ship, Willow. Your room is all ready for you. It’s the first door on the left. It is an honor for you to work with Zylon and the Craze.”
Wang nodded lightly as he looked at me. “This is where we’ll part ways. The ship is cooling from its descent now, but they expect to take off by the end of the day. It’s a big trip. Is there anyone you wish to say goodbye to before you leave?”
I swallowed. The immensity of what I was about to do hit me with a new force. “If I say goodbye, I might not come back,” I said. “Is there any guarantee that if I pass through that door, I’ll come out in one piece?”
“If we could guarantee that, we wouldn’t be hiring,” said Wang.
I’d read that many alien ships didn’t land on the surface of the planet itself because of the dangers of atmospheric entry. This craft had been designed for it, and I’d have to trust that my new colleagues knew what they were doing. When I took another step forward, I turned around and glanced again at Zylon Mars. Despite not being human, he looked so real that I could forget that I had never before seen one of these creatures before, and so dazzling that I knew I’d never rid my brain of his silhouette cut against the dry midwestern landscape.
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