Malinda Lo - Inheritance

Reese , David thought.

Hearing him think her name jolted her back into the present. The reporters were waiting for an answer. She glanced at David, and he gave her a tiny smile. She felt it inside him like the flicker of a flame in the dark. She wasn’t in this alone.

“Is that the ship in the video?” the reporter asked again.

“We don’t know,” Reese and David said together.

“Where did it come from? Why is it over your house?”

“We don’t know,” they said again.

“Was that girl one of the aliens? Why does she look human?”

David didn’t speak this time. “Yes, she’s one of the aliens,” Reese said. “I don’t know why she looks human.”

“Why are they here? Are they experimenting on humans?”

“Why did the president think they were gone? Did you see the press conference she gave an hour ago? She said the aliens had left our planet.”

“How are you connected to the aliens?”

Reese took a deep breath and interrupted the stream of questions. “We can’t answer you all at once, and we don’t know much more than you. We only know what happened to us.”

“What did happen to you?”

“We were taken by government agents to a secret military base in Nevada,” David said.

“Why?”

“They wanted to figure out what kind of medical procedure had been done on us earlier this summer,” Reese said, and then realized that none of this would make sense to the assembled reporters because they didn’t know about that.

“It’s a long story,” David said.

“Start from the beginning. What medical procedure?”

Reese glanced sideways at David, who nodded at her. Go ahead. “We had a car accident on the edge of Area 51 right after the June Disaster,” Reese said. “David and I were in Phoenix, Arizona, for a debate tournament. We were with our coach. When all flights were grounded after those planes crashes, we decided to rent a car to drive home. Our coach died in Las Vegas during a carjacking at a gas station—”

A murmur of surprise went through the reporters, and one interrupted to ask, “What was the name of your coach?”

“Joe Chapman,” David said. “We left the gas station because the gunman was shooting at us, but we couldn’t go back because of the roadblocks. So we kept driving.”

“That’s when we had the car accident,” Reese continued. “We didn’t know we had crashed on the edge of a military base.”

“We were treated at the hospital there,” David said, “with Imrian science.”

“You mean alien technology?”

“You could call it that,” David said. “They’ve told us that we went through an adaptation procedure. They said it was to save our lives. It combined our human DNA with their Imrian DNA.”

“How were the aliens able to do this to you on a US military base?” one of the reporters asked, sounding skeptical.

“We don’t think the government authorized this,” Reese said. “In fact, we don’t think the government knew what really happened to us at all. That’s why we were kidnapped and taken back to Area 51 two weeks ago. Our government wanted to figure out what had been done to us.”

“You say they kidnapped you, but it sounds like they were making an effort to get to the bottom of something done to you by aliens. Shouldn’t you be grateful for the government’s help?”

“Government agents broke into my house and drugged me,” Reese objected. “They took us against our will, and then they held us in an underground bunker and didn’t allow us to contact anyone, not even our parents. We’re not happy that the aliens did whatever they did to us, but that doesn’t make what our government did right.”

Her outburst had startled the gathered reporters. One called out, “Has the government apologized for what they did to you?”

“Senator Michaelson apologized,” Reese said. Senator Joyce Michaelson had helped get her and David out of the military facility after the video had leaked.

“We’re grateful to Senator Michaelson and our families,” David added.

“And my friend Julian Arens for getting that video up,” Reese said.

“You say alien DNA was added to yours? How does the alien DNA affect you?”

Someone began to push his way through the crowd, and several reporters made irritated noises.

“We’re able to heal more rapidly than normal,” Reese answered. An excited murmur traveled through the reporters.

“And we can communicate without speaking,” David said. “Sort of like telepathy.”

Reese felt an outburst of emotion like a puff of wind in her face: shock mingled with skepticism.

“Are you able to read minds now?” a reporter shouted.

“No,” Reese said. “It’s more limited than that.”

She was struggling to find the words to explain her and David’s new abilities when a man in a black suit broke free from the crowd and barreled up the steps. It was Agent Forrestal, one of the men in black who had taken them to Area 51 and brought them home earlier that day. Reese was beginning to think of Forrestal as her personal government bully.

“This press conference is over,” Agent Forrestal announced.

“What do you mean?” Reese said. “We’re just getting started.”

He ignored her and spoke loudly over the angry questions from the crowd. “We need you to disperse right now and leave this vicinity.”

Amid shouted comments about the freedom of the press and the right to assemble, David thought to Reese: He’s shutting us down.

“Please disperse right now,” Agent Forrestal ordered. Across the street, National Guard soldiers stood ready to move in.

“Who are you?” the reporters yelled.

Police officers began to enter the crowd, herding people away from the house, and Agent Forrestal didn’t answer the question. He turned to face Reese and David. “Let’s go. Back inside,” he said grimly, and tried to push them up the stairs.

They both recoiled. “You can’t do this,” Reese protested.

“You don’t understand what’s going on,” Agent Forrestal said. “This is for your own protection. Go inside right now.”

A few steps above them, Reese’s parents stood in the open front doorway, David’s parents right behind them. Reese saw Julian peering around her dad’s arm. Agent Forrestal grasped Reese’s shoulder and she jerked away.

“Don’t touch my daughter,” Reese’s mom snapped at the agent.

“Let’s go inside, ma’am, and we can discuss this properly,” Agent Forrestal said.

Reese’s mom ushered Reese and David inside, but she turned back to Agent Forrestal with an angry expression. “No. You’re not invited in.”

She slammed the door in his face and locked it.

Reese entered her bedroom and flicked the light switch that turned on her bedside lamp. Her mom paused in the doorway behind her. “You’re sure you’re all right, honey? Do you want a glass of water or something before you go to bed?”

“No, I’m fine, just tired,” Reese answered, walking over to the windows to peek through the blinds. Many of the reporters had left after Agent Forrestal ended the press conference, but they had been replaced by other onlookers who gazed up at the black triangle as if they were waiting for a divine message. She could see some of them now in the light of the streetlamp, their camera lenses pointed at the night sky.

“Okay,” her mom said. “You know where to find me if you need anything.” She came into the room and kissed Reese on the forehead, her hand sweeping gently over Reese’s hair. “I love you.”

After her mom left, closing the door behind her, Reese sat on the edge of her bed and pulled off the shoes that the government had given her that morning. Ugly white sneakers, already scuffed along the toes. A surge of fury swept through her and she kicked them across the room. They bounced against her laundry basket. She sighed and took off the government-issue khaki pants and long-sleeved T-shirt, shoving them into her trash bin. Then she got dressed in her oldest, most comfortable pair of pajama bottoms—red-and-white plaid—and a roomy, faded Cal T-shirt and climbed into bed.