Solitude

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Aleksi didn’t know who “they” were, but even if he did, he wouldn’t know what the “vacuum of space” was, so he screamed anyway. Plucked from the dense cover of his hut in the forest of what used to be Alaska, he was in a strange world he never could have dreamed existed, so he screamed quite a lot in the first days.

Aleksi didn’t know proper English anymore. The words had faded over time, and his thoughts had become more and more animalistic as he scraped out a solitary life in the trees. Now he growled at his keepers and howled at the small porthole window that showed him only blackness and stars.

The stars, he knew well. Everything else was foreign. The trays of lumpy grayish food, the shiny metal of the ship around him, the unsettlingly-hued and too-bright lights, and the constant smell of burned… metallic something. Even the people made no sense; their eyes had a shimmer to them in the dark he thought only belonged to the animals around his hut, and they spoke strange words he didn’t understand. They had changed. Human language and interaction slowly started to float back to him after a month of overhearing conversations from his “room” that was more like a jail cell, but he could tell the speech style was different since he had last heard it over 40 years ago.

He hadn’t been much more than a child when he ran into the woods to escape the rabid victims of Earth’s last plague, and he had never come out. Then one day, when he heard clumsy steps in the timber surrounding the walls of his home, he stepped out prepared to take on a pack of wolves. He was met with far worse; though “wolves” seemed an apt description now.

“Nee-ame?” a sharp voice came from outside the door. Aleksi hesitated. They hadn’t spoken directly to him since he’d been here.

“Nee-ame?” the voice asked again. “Nombre? Naam? Nome? Prénom?” The voice kept going with the strange words.

It dawned on Aleksi that “nee-ame” was probably “name.” “Uh,” he grunted, unused to the sound of his own voice, and his voice unused to being used. “Aleksi,” he managed.

The sound of a sliding bolt rang out, and the door swung open. Through the small window that looked into the plain hallway, Aleksi had watched the strange new people, but hadn’t been able to see one so clearly and up close. The man stepped into the room, unnaturally tall and rigid, and repeated “Uh-lek-si.”

Aleksi nodded slowly, looking the man over from head to toe. His face was pale, almost the color of moonlight, and his eyes a light shade of green that reminded Aleksi of fresh new grass shoots in spring. Over his white hair he wore a hat, and in the shadow of the brim, Aleksi could see the same glint in those eyes he had seen in the others. He was dressed in solid black, with leather boots up to his knees and what seemed to be an absurd and unnecessary number of pockets, straps and buckles all over his pants and jacket. They all appeared empty.

“Come.” The man turned.

Silently, Aleksi crept out into the hallway behind him. The man’s steps were like a soldier’s, stiff and perfectly on beat. His long legs moved too fast, walking at a clip most would consider a jog.

They reached an arched doorway, and the man held his wrist to a small square on the wall. The heavy metal slid to the side with a hiss, revealing a large atrium littered with angular couches, trees that seemed fake, and gurgling water fountains. Other strange humans lounged around the room, but Aleksi noticed a few that reminded him of him scattered here and there. All of them were unnervingly still. “Library,” the man said curtly.

The man kept his pace straight through, not acknowledging anyone around him. They didn’t seem to notice him, either; they all just kept reading or staring at nothing. The next hissing door led to a cafeteria that contained metal picnic-style tables and automated dispensers of the lumpy gray food. The place was white and sterile and spotless, and Aleksi couldn’t believe anyone ever ate in there.

They didn’t slow down until they went through the next door, down another curved hallway, rounded the corner, and stopped at a door. The man’s stoic exterior faltered slightly. He drew in a deep breath before tapping three short knocks on the door.

“Entre.”

The man stepped aside and held an arm out into what appeared to be an office, motioning for Aleksi to step in. Aleksi did so tentatively, and as he did, two wall panels started rolling back to reveal an enormous window. The office held a massive observation deck; from here, the stars outside were limitless.

“How haz your stee been, Aleksi?” A voice asked from behind him. He jumped and whipped around, prey caught in a trap. He was of the “fight” breed rather than “flight,” so he stared down the voice’s owner, squaring his shoulders and trying to make himself look taller. The man he now looked at was seated behind a glass desk, and was unnatural like the guard that brought him here; pale, white hair despite appearing young, creepy green eyes, and too still, but at least his face cracked into a smile. Aleksi glowered back.

“Why-” his unused voice broke, so he tried again. “Why am I here?”

“I can answer that question for you,” a smooth female voice that spoke what Aleksi remembered to be real English drifted to him from the side. He turned and took in a stunning brunette wearing navy blue heels and a matching sleeved, skintight dress that stopped just above her knees. She stalked toward him, and aside from the surprising smoothness in her gait, she seemed quite normal.

“You, Aleksi, have been isolated for most of your life. You were not exposed to the disease. Your genes still carry the old codes – the ones before the rest of us evolved.”

Aleksi looked back at the man behind the desk, taking in his pastel skin and piercing eyes, before meeting the woman’s brown-eyed stare again. “But you, you-” he stammered. “You look… like me.”

She smiled warmly. “Yes. I was isolated, like you. They saved me, and have been very kind to me here.” She took his hand softly and held it between both of hers, making eye contact with him. It was impossible to look away. “We are the key, Aleksi. The key to ending the virus that still consumes Earth.”

She blinked, and the brown of her eye moved slightly. Aleksi stared harder at it, and when she blinked again, the disc of brown slid down to reveal a sliver of the same bright green he had seen on the others. He yanked his hand free and jumped back, realizing he had nowhere to go; the guard still blocked the door.

A tortured feminine scream echoed from down the hallway. The smiles of the woman and the man behind the desk vanished, and the guard moved to slam the door shut as Aleksi bolted through it. He had almost made it when his hand was slammed in the threshold-”

Aleksi slammed to the dirt floor, the breath whooshing out of his lungs. He gasped for air and rolled, running into a wall that was decidedly not metal. He could feel his fingers throbbing from being slammed in the door, but the pitch black didn’t allow him to see the damage. His panting subsided, and he recognized the musty smell of his hut. He silenced his breathing, and was relieved to hear the night sounds of the forest around him; the chirping of crickets, and rustling of the pines, and the occasional hoot of the Great Horned Owl that frequented the tree above.

He groped for his bed and climbed back up on it, startled at how his thoughts were so… loud. Words that had long abandoned him were swirling in his head, and he felt more alive than he had in years.

A twig snapped outside. Aleksi froze. Silence descended; the forest stopped making all of its beautiful noises. He quietly pulled on his deer hide trousers and an old shirt, lacing up the tattered boots and preparing to face whatever was out there, should it come in. After a tense minute, lumbering footsteps approached, followed by sniffing at the base of the back wall. He sighed with relief – just a bear.

He growled at the animal through the wood, and the steps retreated. Once fully dressed, he walked out with his rock-tipped spear, ready to chase the animal out of his food stores. But when he sidled around the side of the structure, he saw them – several pairs of reflective eyes, above the height of his, staring back.