Free Beyond Our Stars by Marie Langager Page A

scenarios, and always at the same time, so no one got any warning. The elderly weren’t put in as many extreme physical situations, but they had their own torments to deal with. And some of them had ‘died’ as I had.
    One Local waited inside each tunnel, as usual.
    Some people just called them the Locals, others used the name of the planet that was supposed to have been our salvation. CR-3ans. COMPATIBLE: Riggs-3. Riggs was the supposed genius that found the galaxy, and this was the third planet from their sun.
    The soft sound told us that the field that covered entry to the tunnels was gone. And like the good soldiers we’d become we marched inside our entrances in an orderly fashion. I watched the last child’s head disappear into their tunnel, her blond wispy hair floating on her head like a feather.
    We followed our Local.
    I picked up my pace so I could get closer to watch him. I always had to look up because of their height. Their heads are misshapen, long and slightly narrowed at the center, but with a wide, angular jaw. No hair, only a protrusion shaped like a half-moon growing from the top of their skull. Their skin is a mixture of light gray that blends with rounded blue markings unique to each of them along their throats and jaw. They wear long, loose dark blue tunics and billowing robes of the same color. Their large eyes were usually lowered but I’d seen that their irises were blue and the pupils were an even deeper sapphire color. I thought I was noticing that some of their mannerisms were like ours. It was hard to tell. They never made eye contact or touched us.
    He led us back toward the Stacks but this time he walked to an elevator. The Local stayed outside, a few feet away from us and we got in and were taken up several stories.
    We’d gone to the upper levels of the Stacks before, but it didn’t mean anything. We’d had good and bad sessions up here. The doors of the large elevator opened up to an identical stark white hallway.
    Like always, I kept to the back of the group and paused when we got to the door of the Stack at the end, only two feet between me and the Local waiting there. It kept its head down, not moving.
    I waited.
Please, look up at me. Show me what you’re thinking.
I’d started trying to memorize their subtle differences. Some seemed younger. They had slightly darker, smoother grey skin. The young ones, if I was right that they were younger, had fewer markings along their throat and jaw. Because the markings were different for each Local, I tried to see if I could remember who was who.
    This one looked older. The Local moved its arm swiftly to the side. One small jerk, without raising its head. Its blue robe hung from its arm and revealed the wide silver bracelet each of them wore as their only form of ornamentation. Then it made a sound, the first I’d heard from them, like a low vibration. One deep, tremulous grunt that echoed in the tunnel and made me take a frightened step back. It was such a strange sound, so unlike anything human.
    But I’d gotten a reaction. I walked inside the Stack, as I thought he was ordering me to do. I looked behind me as the doors slid shut but he remained as motionless as before, head down.
Another time then
.
    The Stack lights began to brighten and I started to count down in my head. Three, two, one… and my eyes searched for the black half-moon window. Someone, maybe, was watching. I closed my eyes this time so my vision wouldn’t do that refocusing thing when the session started.
    I heard Weeks let out a low whistle followed by a weighted breath. I opened my eyes. We were standing on a metal floor that rose up and down, reminding me of sand dunes. I examined it more closely and it seemed like it was comprised of squares that bent and molded into small hills. It was really dim, I couldn’t see the far sides of the dunes.
    I looked at the others in the dark. Chance was watching for any