Akureyri gateway, p.22
Akureyri Gateway, page 22
part #2 of Apocalypse Series
Aleria is here, now, and there’s no denying that there’s something between them—but Erik’s memories of Kristin run deep.
“Is everything okay?” Aleria asks softly, pulling Erik out of his thoughts.
He looks over to see her studying him with a sad smile on her face. He doesn’t want Aleria to ever feel sad. He wants to be the person who makes her happiest.
Of course, that’s how he felt about Kristin, too. “I’m great,” Erik says. When the song “Come and Get Your Love” starts to play through the hidden speakers, he jumps to his feet. “Dance with me.”
Aleria stares at his extended hand. “I don’t dance.”
“Come on… There might be dancing at the celebration. It’ll be good practice.” He grabs her hand and pulls her off the couch.
She heaves a sigh and throws back her head. “You’re ridiculous,” she says, but soon she is giggling uncontrollably as he twirls her in wild loops around the room. As the song ends, Erik supports her lower back and tries to dip her for a big finish, but she is caught unaware and her feet tangle in his, sending them both tumbling onto the couch.
Erik lands half on top of Aleria. For a moment, they stare into each other’s eyes, both of them holding their breath. Erik feels like he can feel Aleria’s heartbeat, a wild hummingbird beating against his chest. Then, abruptly, she squirms out from underneath him, clearing her throat. Her pale cheeks are flushed.
“Let’s finish the movie,” she says, voice husky.
He nods, not trusting himself to speak.
They both silently watch the film. Although Aleria doesn’t look over at Erik after their dance, she drifts closer and closer to his side.
Chapter 30
April 22nd, 2019
Erik swipes two fingers across the brain scan he’s studying, rotating the image approximately twenty-five degrees to the left. He zooms in, staring at a particular neural synapse that is highly active in Subject 2757, whom the Sjelians describe as a skilled musician. This pathway isn’t present in every test subject from Earth, which leads Erik to theorize that it has something to do with the creative process. He wants to cross-reference it with other subjects who are known to have artistic abilities.
This is how he spends his days: reading brain maps so much more detailed than anything his Human Connectome Project could hope to achieve. With every new data point he records, he feels one step closer to, well… bringing Earth one step closer to Sjel.
He looks up at a knock at his door. It’s Aleria. His smile bursts across his face, wide and welcoming, and Aleria mirrors it with a warm smile of her own. Erik wonders if “Come and Get Your Love” is playing in her head, too. “I talked to Theran this morning, about the costumes,” she says. “He actually agreed. I didn’t think he would.”
“That’s great! I have the perfect playlist.” He makes a mental note to add “Come and Get Your Love” to the lineup. “What day is the party?” he asks, his voice cracking, making him cough into a fist.
Aleria looks at her PAD. “It’ll be in two days.”
Erik nods. “I can’t wait.” He pauses. “About last night—”
“About your blood test,” Aleria blurts, at the same time.
And there it is. The elephant in the room. Or rather, the other elephant in the room, aside from their mutual attraction. They’ve avoided talking about Erik’s half-Sjelian status for months, ever since an argument back in November threatened to destroy the easy peace they’d worked so hard to cultivate.
“What about my blood test?” Erik asks, wary. “Did you talk to Theran about it?”
“No.” Aleria winces slightly as she says the word, as if anticipating Erik’s frustration. “I would like to wait until we arrive at the planet’s solar system, in fourteen months. That’s what I wanted to tell you.”
Erik’s brows rise. “Fourteen months? You’ve already waited more than a year.” He struggles to keep the accusatory tone from his voice. “Don’t you think this is something Theran should be made aware of?”
Aleria looks down at the ground and takes a deep breath. “I broke a rule… by having duplicate tests run without permission. Theran’s going to be upset, so… I thought I would wait until after we arrive at the planet’s solar system. When we reach our destination, I know he’s going to be distracted… and also a little excited and happy… and hopefully more forgiving.”
Erik tilts his head toward one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I suppose that makes sense. If you’re going to deliver bad news, might as well do it when the person is in a good mood.” He hesitates, nervous to press too hard, but continues, “You’re telling me that there haven’t been—and won’t be—any other occasions for Theran to be in a good mood, other than fourteen months from now?”
Aleria looks chastened, but confirms, “Our arrival will be the best time.”
“But he’s your—”
Aleria retreats from Erik’s office before he can finish his statement: that Theran is Aleria’s father, and she should be able to talk to him. He watches her shut her own office door, thinking again about the moment the two of them shared last night. He can’t help but feel disappointed that, as close as they’ve become, she still won’t prioritize his needs. It’s almost as big a barrier between them as his memories of Kristin.
Erik sneaks over to Lina’s office. “Can I talk with you?” he asks from the doorway.
She looks up from her computer screen. “Sure, what is it?”
“I didn’t want to ask Aleria,” he says as he takes a seat. “I wasn’t sure if she would be upset if I asked… but is it possible to find out who my biological father is?”
Lina shakes her head. “The medical files of the crew are confidential. We don’t have access.”
Erik sinks back in his chair. “I know my mom must have entered the Akureyri portal thirty-four years ago. She and my dad were living in Iceland at the time. She was forty-seven years old. They had tried for years and couldn’t get pregnant.” Erik grew up knowing he was his parents’ personal miracle. It was a blessing and a burden, trying to live up to that kind of standard. “Surely you can narrow down a list of Sjelians who had access to the portal, even if you can’t confirm paternity.”
Lina purses her lips but doesn’t answer.
Erik nods as he figures out what’s going on. “You’re protecting the person by not investigating. Whoever impregnated my mother, broke a fundamental tenet.”
Lina folds her hands on her desk. “Yes.”
“But why would someone do that?”
She shrugs. “We have no idea, Erik.”
“Well… hopefully we’ll find out when Aleria talks to Theran…” Erik massages his temple with his thumb and forefinger. “In fourteen months.”
Erik still feels pensive as he and Aleria head out of the evaluation center later that day. He has so many questions to ask her, and he doubts she’ll answer them to his satisfaction. So, he tries to focus on the positive: the celebration. “I’m surprised Theran agreed to let us go through his relic room.”
“Me too.” Aleria stops in front of the access panel and waves her PAD. As the door slides open to admit them into the hall, Erik spies Akril walking in their direction. She turns her nose up at him, and he rolls his eyes. If the woman hasn’t warmed to him yet, he doubts she ever will.
Erik enters the storage room and walks among the clothes—some displayed on manikins, others tucked away in trunks. “There are plenty of costumes for everyone. How many outfits are there?”
Aleria turns in a circle. “I’m not sure. Hundreds…”
Erik looks over his left shoulder and sees the door slide open. Akril crosses the threshold, flattening a single stray hair at the top of her blonde bob back into its proper place. She surveys the room with a sneer. Erik whispers to Aleria, “I wonder why she’s here.”
“Whatever it is, it won’t be—”
“What you’re doing is an abomination!” Akril shouts.
Aleria whirls around and glares into Akril’s fierce, beady eyes. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
Akril draws herself to her full height as she stalks toward Aleria, but the top of her head still only reaches Aleria’s shoulder. “This is a Sjelian celebration. We shouldn’t be glorifying violence.”
“How are we glorifying violence?” Erik asks, standing at Aleria’s side to back her up.
Akril jabs a perfectly manicured finger at one of the ornate gowns. “This represents death. The people of Earth are killers, and you want to dress up like them? It’s sickening!”
Erik looks at the ceiling, practicing patience. “You’re being ridiculous. We’re not glorifying violence. I know you would like to think that everyone on Earth is violent, but that’s not the case. Most people never commit an act of violence in their life. Yet you’re going to classify everyone as violent. There’s a word for people like you: bigot.”
Aleria steps in between Erik and Akril, a hand on Erik’s chest but her eyes on Akril. “Just leave.”
Akril’s jaw works as she narrows her eyes to slits. “I plan to inform the General Council of this celebration!”
Aleria crosses her arms. “You go right ahead… and tell your mother.”
Akril lets out a sound like a yowling cat and turns on her heel. When the door closes behind her, Erik shakes his head. “Does she ever smile?”
“Don’t let her bother you.”
“I won’t.” Erik looks over at the Venus De Milo statue recreation. His mind returns to the complex relationship between Aleria and Theran—a relationship she rarely brings up. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that these things were made for your mother?”
Aleria startles. “How did you know these things were made for my mother?”
“I was here with Theran, some time ago. He said that he’d had them made for his wife. And then when you spoke with Emeran, on your birthday last year, the baby’s name, for her great-grandmother, was the same as the name Theran mentioned as his wife’s…” Erik lifts his hands as if to say, I put two and two together.
Aleria’s face is painted with discomfort. “I wasn’t ready to share something so… personal.”
Erik thinks, we’ve known each other for almost two years. But aloud, he says, “Theran said that your mother loved Earth.”
“She did.” Aleria stares off into a far corner, lost in her memories. “I don’t know much about my mother’s home planet. She never really talked about it. Instead, she would talk about her mom’s… my grandmother’s home planet. She said they lacked creativity and imagination. There was no diversity at all.” Aleria trails her fingers along the keys of the Steinway Upright and chuckles. “They thought my grandmother was strange because she liked to sing and dance.”
“I don’t understand. Your mom and grandmother are not from the same planet? How is that possible?”
Aleria shrugs. “I don’t know.”
Erik can’t tell if Aleria truly doesn’t know, or if she’s simply ready for the conversation to end. He throws her a lifeline by changing the subject. “If everyone thinks like Akril, then no one will show up at the celebration.”
Aleria smiles with relief. “No one else thinks like her. Everyone is excited for the celebration. Some people have already picked out costumes.”
“Sjelians seem so introverted. Why is this bringing everyone out of their shells?”
“Our evolution has been beneficial. We have eliminated violence and are no longer driven by power and greed. But… we have lost something along the way.”
“What’s that?”
Aleria’s eyes find Erik’s. “Our creativity. Our courage to risk failure. Sjelians are afraid to take a chance.”
“Really?” He thinks of all of the brain scans he’s been studying. Sure, Sjelians have three times as many neural pathways as present-day Earth inhabitants… but are there synapses representing positive traits—creativity, daring—that Sjelians have lost?
“The people of Earth risk failure all the time.” Aleria tilts her head. “I’m sure you have risked failure with your HCP study.”
Erik nods vehemently. “Not long ago, I gave a presentation to two hundred of the most accomplished neuroscientists on Earth. I was scared to death.”
“You were scared, but you still gave the presentation.”
“True.”
“Most Sjelians wouldn’t have been able to give that presentation. The fear of failure is just too overwhelming. That is partly why we have stopped creating art… movies, music, paintings, and literature. The fear of rejection is a strong deterrent.”
“Wow, I had no idea.” Erik studies her face, not far from his. “You said partly?”
“We have also lost artistic creativity over the years.”
Erik’s brows narrow as his suspicion is confirmed. “But… what about the murals and sculptures in the Setustofa room?”
“They were created by Sjelians long ago.”
Erik sighs. “That’s kind of sad.”
Aleria nods, breaking eye contact. “Everyone on this vessel worked on the space station. Their job was to evaluate the people from Earth, so they are familiar with your movies and music. Most people enjoy them. I have no doubt that everyone, except of course Akril, will dress up in costumes and enjoy listening to the music. In fact, I think they will actually dance at the celebration.”
Erik’s eyes light up. “If it’s something that people would enjoy doing, then why haven’t they done this in the past? Kralo said that you have never done this before.”
“No one has had the courage to suggest something so different and unusual… until you.”
“It’s funny how alike we are… and yet so different at the same time.”
“My mom was much different than Sjelians. She had this way about her that was so similar to the people from Earth. She was a lot like you. In fact, she knew things about Earth that…” Aleria stops herself, looking at her shoes.
“What?”
Aleria shakes her head. “Nothing.” She sucks in a breath and raises her head, an overly sunny smile on her face. “I bet you can’t guess what her favorite thing in this room is?”
Erik shrugs and points to the wall. “Those paintings?”
“No.” She taps one of the piano’s black keys.
Erik tilts his head. “This piano?”
“Yes… That’s a Steinway Upright. It’s an exact replica of the piano that John Lennon used to write the song ‘Imagine’.”
Erik’s forehead creases as his eyebrows leap. “Really? Wow.”
“That was my mom’s favorite song. She loved the lyrics.” Aleria smiles wistfully, and Erik has a sudden, irrational desire to sit down and hammer out the tune, despite the fact that he never mastered the instrument. Unfortunately, his childish efforts would probably ruin the sweet memory for Aleria, so he restraints himself.
They spend the next hour gathering supplies, working in a companionable silence, before walking back to their rooms. “No time for a movie tonight,” Aleria says gently when they stop halfway between their two doors. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good night,” Erik says, waiting for her to let herself into her room before he enters his own. As he gets ready for bed, his mind returns to what Aleria said about Sjelians’ risk-aversion. Is that why she’s so reluctant to tell Theran about his test results? Or is there some other reason he’s being kept in the dark?
He shakes off the suspicion almost immediately. He may not know exactly what to do about Aleria, in an… interpersonal sense. But he trusts her. All the more so because he’s seen what happens when a Sjelian feels that a trust has been broken. Erik trusts Aleria, and he would rather spend time with her than anyone else on board, and he wants to be close to her, and he hopes she feels the same.
He can’t wait to see her tomorrow. He falls asleep picturing her smile.
Chapter 31
April 24th, 2019
Erik looks at his PAD. It’s 6:30 p.m.
The party starts in thirty minutes. I’d better get ready.
His PAD flashes, and he answers the call. “Hi, Aleria. Is the Setustofa room decorated?”
Aleria appears, still in her uniform. “Yes. Do you have your playlist ready?”
“I do. It’s on my computer. I labeled it…” He pauses, drawing out the drama. “‘Earth playlist’.”
Aleria lets out a soft laugh. “Great, I’ll access it now. See you at seven.”
Erik opens up a dresser drawer and finds his blue jeans and polo shirt. He hasn’t touched the garments, other than to transport them from his room on the space station to this room on the exploration vessel, since the day he came through the portal. The sight of Earth clothes starts to bring back memories of Kristin and Eria. The faint scents of dirt and grass still cling to the fabric, barely hanging on, but he presses the articles to his nose, relishing the nostalgia.
A memory bubbles up out of the recesses of his mind: Eria was with him when he bought this shirt. She’d taken her job as shopping helper so seriously, making him hold up a full spectrum of colors until she was satisfied. He’d let her help pay, too, handing her his wallet so she could count out the correct change.
Eria would be almost nine now. How tall would she be? Would she still crave his hugs the way she did when she was little?
His eyes water, and he tries to shake himself out of it. Not tonight.
He gets dressed and checks his hair in the mirror. With a few minutes to spare, he walks toward the Setustofa room, wondering how many people will actually show up. He envisions himself, Aleria, Theran, Lina, Mandal, and Kralo staring at each other awkwardly in an echoey room. He’s become friendly enough with most of his crew-mates over the past year and a half, but he still often feels like an outsider. What if everyone has been waiting for this precise moment to show Erik how far from fitting in he still is?
