Malinda Lo: Natural Selection

“How did Zach know?” she asked.

I thought about it. Josh told me about you , Zach had said. “I guess Josh told Zach that I didn’t want to make out with him when we went to the movies.”

“But not wanting to make out with Josh Taylor doesn’t make you gay,” Morgan said. “Are you sure?”

She wanted so badly for it to be a lie that I was tempted to give in to her.

“Maybe we just need to find you someone else,” Morgan said. “What about Matt Steiger? Don’t you think he’s so cute?”

“Yeah, he’s cute,” I agreed.

This seemed to encourage her. “That’s great! Maybe you’re beyond the boys at school. I mean, other than Zach, they are kind of annoying. Maybe you’ll find a guy you like in high school.”

I laughed in a half-choked kind of way. “Maybe.”

“You don’t think so?” she said, sounding unexpectedly fierce. “How can you know for sure that you’re—that you don’t like boys? You’ve never gone out with anyone except Josh. Have you?”

“No,” I admitted.

“So you don’t know!”

Her denial made me cringe. “But I do know,” I said.

“How?” she demanded.

“How do you know you’re straight?”

She thought about that for a moment but shook her head. “You’re so pretty. All the boys like you. Why would you—? It doesn’t make any sense.”

My heart seemed to stop. I knew that she was basically insulting me. She thought I was too pretty to be gay—as if all gay people were ugly. But the only thing I could feel was a thick, sad wonder at the fact that she thought I was pretty at all. She thought I was pretty. “Morgan,” I whispered. I took a deep breath, preparing myself. “I like girls. I know you don’t, but this doesn’t change anything. We’re both the same people we were yesterday. Are we okay? Are we still friends?” I reached for her, wanting to touch her the way I would touch an Imrian. I knew I shouldn’t do it, but I couldn’t help it at that moment. I had to know how she felt.

She pulled away from me, leaving my hand hanging in the air. She crossed her arms. I drew my hand back, and my heart sank.

“I don’t know,” she said softly.

My eyes were hot. I was glad she couldn’t see my face.

“I better go,” she whispered, and before I could stop her, she left my tent and zipped it shut.

Kurra

I wake up to the sound of bells chiming in the vaulted ceiling of the shelter. When I open my eyes, it’s still dark, but as I shift in my hammock the lights come on. I climb out of my hammock and see Nasha do the same. I didn’t think I would be able to sleep at all, and now my head feels muddy—half-awake, half-asleep.

Nasha looks tired too, but she shoots me a smile as she pulls on her pack. “Did you dream?”

I shake my head. “No. I didn’t even realize I was asleep until the bells rang.” I sling my pack over my shoulder and we head toward the exit. “What about you?”

“I don’t remember anything. Some people say that dreams during kibila are prophetic, but I’m not sure if I believe that.”

The air is cool and smells like early morning, fresh and sharp. I take a deep breath as we strike out on the steep trail, and the oxygen and movement begin to shake away my drowsiness. “I bet humans would think we’re crazy to believe in things like that,” I say. “They think aliens are either super high-tech and emotionless, or scary insectlike monsters.”

“I’ve heard about that,” she says. “But why? I don’t get it.”

“I think it’s a projection of their own fantasies. Or nightmares, I guess. A fear of difference?”

“So we’re either robots or monsters?”

“Well, there are also the grays. Those are my favorite.”

She’s ahead of me, and she glances back over her shoulder as she says, “I’ve never heard of the grays. What are they?”

“They’re these aliens with gray skin and giant, bulbous heads and huge eyes.”

She laughs, the sound of it tinkling brightly down the trail. “That’s funny. Where do they come up with this stuff?”

“The grays are the smartest of the aliens. They’re like all brain, and they do experiments on humans too. Sometimes they have telepathic powers.”

“Hmm. Why do you like them?” She sounds amused.

“Well, they’re not giant ugly insects bent on destroying all of humanity,” I point out. “And… they’re mysterious.”

“You like mysterious things?”

“Yeah.” I slow down as we negotiate a rocky portion of the trail in the near dark. “You’re mysterious.”

I can tell she’s smiling as she says, “You think so?”

“Sure. I’ve been here for more than eight months, but you’ve never really talked to me until last night. Why?”

“Why didn’t you talk to me?” she counters.

“I thought… I guess I didn’t think you were interested in knowing me. I mean, you never touched me. I thought you were trying to hide that.”

She pauses and turns to face me. Behind her, the sky is beginning to lighten. “I’ve been interested in you since I was born,” she says.

This startles me. “Why?”

She takes a step closer. “All my life, I’ve known that you would be my kibila partner. That assignment was made at birth. And every time I thought about this night, I thought about you. Who you were; what you were doing; where you were. But when you came back eight months ago, you had changed so much from when we were little. I didn’t know how to talk to you. If I was trying to hide anything, it was only that.”

“Oh. I’m… sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. We have plenty of time to know each other. You and I will always be bound together, even after you go back to Earth. Even after we have lovers, and real responsibilities, and children, if we have children.”

She’s right. Every fifteen years, I will spend one night with her. The weight of that future suddenly impresses itself on me, and I reach for her without thinking, catching her hand in mine.

She’s closed to me, of course, as kibila demands. Her fingers squeeze mine, and she is like an anchor. On this mountain, we are anchored together. She will witness my transformations every time.

I wonder what it was like for earlier generations of Imria, who undertook their kibila in larger groups. That shelter could hold a dozen or more at a time. What would it be like to go through life with that group of people anchoring you throughout every transformation? I feel a sharp ache for a time long past, when this planet was alive with so many more of us. Now it is an isolated, lonesome place. Earth, in comparison, is a hive of bright, vibrant life. Earth is our future.

And I know, finally, that what everyone has told me is true. After today, I will be a new person. Ready to do what I was born to do.

Earth

We left Coconino National Forest the morning after my talk with Morgan. At breakfast, Morgan ignored me, but she looked sad while she sat with Zach. Part of me always knew she would react this way. She had never had gay friends or family before, and the few times the topic of gay people came up she always made a face as if they were gross. I felt stupid for ignoring that part of her for so long.

On the bus, I was stuck sitting with Ryan Walker. His parents had forced him to join Nature Club because they thought he needed outdoor exercise, but he never seemed to enjoy it. His nose was already deep in a book when I sat next to him in the only empty seat. He didn’t even look at me until the bus pulled to a stop at the visitors’ center on the way out of the forest. Ms. Lucas told us we had half an hour to pick out a souvenir, and Ryan’s hand shot up.