Free Beyond Our Stars by Marie Langager

talking, searching for the words.
Let us come out? Let us live?
I didn’t know how to finish it.
    Chief knew, and he didn’t push me. He sighed, rubbing his wedding ring. Even in his sixties, he was still a handsome man. Chief Up had no wife, not anymore. She’d died back on Earth. People knew not to ask about her. There were those that wanted to commemorate things, but Chief Up was so devastated by her loss that he found it impossibly painful to even have her mentioned.
    He was saying, “Hope, they’ve made no attempt at direct contact. Those things ignore us. If they even
tried
to communicate…”
    I stopped him. I was over-stepping but he always forgave me for that.
    â€œThe Stacks
are
communication. I think,” I said.
    Chief sat back in his chair, shaking his head. “But we don’t know. How many times do those creatures have to hurt you for you to doubt them?”
    I looked away. How could I still say the Locals meant us anything other than harm? After everything they’d done to us? I wasn’t sure I could. Especially because the sessions only seemed to be getting worse, more cruel, more dangerous. When
was
the last “easy” session? I couldn’t remember.
    â€œHope,” he said in a low voice, running a hand through his hair. “I know some sessions have seemed like they were trying to understand what we are, or see what we’re like. But, also,” he shook his head once, “some of the sessions are…look at it this way. They’re testing our bodies. How fast we are, how we react. Psychological fears. That’s how you might prepare for battle, Hope.”
    I had no answer. We weren’t their enemy. Each session seemed so different, I couldn’t explain it.
    My faith that the Locals meant well was dwindling fast, but I clung to remnants of it to keep me going. Because despite the sessions, despite having to admit to myself that at the very least the Locals weren’t exactly friendly, we needed to find a way. We had to make this home.
    Chief always calling the Locals ‘creatures’, and saying, ‘it’, and ‘those things’ wasn’t helping. We were never going to make any headway if we kept thinking of the Locals as completely unknowable entities. There had to be something we had in common.
    It had been a week and a half since the last session. We never knew when they’d come for us again. Days, weeks, hours…But I didn’t want to give up.
    I was scared, but
I
was the one going into sessions, so
I
should have a say in what we do next. Even if I wasn’t sure what that was yet. Chief Up was my best shot at that.
    The door to Chief’s office slid open and Chance came in. His face was grave.
    â€œThey’re back,” was all he said.
Oh, man
. For all my talk about how the sessions were for a purpose, I wasn’t ready.
    I didn’t let Chief see that, though. I got up and followed Chance.
    â€œGet back here as soon as it’s over,” Chief called behind us as the door closed. I heard the restrained anxiousness in his voice.
    â€œYou think we should keep going into these, no fight?” Chance asked me, without any emotion I could read.
We can’t fight them
, I thought.
    â€œYes. For now.”
    Chance shook his head at me.
    I wished for the millionth time since sessions started that he hadn’t been chosen as one of the Specs. It was so hard, enduring the sessions together but then being alone again afterwards. I needed my best friend back.
    We walked in silence to join our group at the entrance to the Stacks. I hated this part, before we went in. I hated to see the children who were Specimens at the tunnel to my left. The groups got different sessions, they didn’t match very often. And they did seem to be targeted specifically. The kid’s sessions were always easier to get through than ours, thank goodness. The adults often got some of our