Free Dark Energy by Robison Wells

few days we’ve had many diplomatic talks about how to integrate these men and women—and yes, I’m calling them men and women. They are people. They may come from another world, but we believe that they are deserving of the same inalienable rights that are granted to everyone.”
    Brynne shot a look at me.
    I looked back, worry on my face.
    â€œWe believe that it would be a sign of goodwill—a sign of the best of mankind’s intentions—to try to integrate a few of the Guides into our society.”
    The murmuring in the crowd was getting loud now, but Senator Staheli’s smile never wavered. “It is my privilege to bring you two additional students to join the Minnetonka student body. Let me present to you, Suski and Coya.”
    The murmurs dropped to utter silence as two people stepped slowly out of the wings and onto the stage. They were the aliens I’d seen on TV—the first two out of the ship after Mai and the woman.
    They seemed puzzled by the bright lights in their eyes, and only walked to the senator after much coaxing from the headmistress.
    They both wore the school uniform, although neither wore shoes, which seemed totally out of place. Each had on a small headset, and they wore big round buttons on their sweaters, which I assumed were the speakers for their translators.
    â€œThe dude’s hot,” Brynne whispered, breaking the silence, and a few of the girls around us giggled. “Seriously, I think he could bench-press me.”
    I groaned. “Please don’t say—”
    â€œIf you know what I mean,” Brynne said.
    â€œThat.”
    â€œSuccubus,” she reminded me.
    The senator stepped back to the microphone. “We will have security on-site. FBI agents inside the building and the National Guard outside. We trust that you will treat these students as you would any other student—any other foreign dignitary,” she corrected.
    â€œFreaks!”
    The voice came from the male side of the room—one of those insults half-disguised as a sneeze. The senator looked into the crowd, shielding her eyes from the stage lights.
    Murmurs ran through the auditorium, but if anyone knew who had said it, no one was letting on. The senator took her place at the microphone again, her voice stern and challenging. “Minnetonka was chosen because its student body can be trusted to be respectful. I know many of you are well connected and may think you’re beyond reproach. But I’ll have you know that none of you is as well connected as these Guides are now. They’re here under the diplomatic wishes of the president. Please keep that in mind.”
    I tried to read the faces of the two Guide students, but they seemed like they weren’t entirely sure what was going on—like they hadn’t caught the insult or known what to make of it. “These are not simply two of the Guide children,” the senator went on. “These are the son and daughter of Mai. We don’t have a full grasp on Guide societal structure, but fornow you should consider them royalty.”
    A girl behind me whispered a few words under her breath. “The hell we will.”
    â€œWhat about all the people who died?” Rachel asked me, her voice not angry, but uncertain. “What about them? Are we just supposed to forget?”
    The room was getting loud, and the senator spoke again. “You will have a hundred questions, but I urge you to save them for your school leadership and not to let speculation run rampant. For now, we thank you in advance for your help in this matter. And know that we will be watching. Thank you.”
    The senator shook the hands of the two Guides and then left the stage, only to be replaced by the headmistress of the school.
    We will be watching. Was that a threat? An admonition? It didn’t sound warm and cuddly.
    The headmistress started addressing the room again, but none of us were paying attention to