Terrance blanches. “A house of horrors, Summer. No, don’t look away. You need to see me. You need to understand. They experiment on us. They inject us with chemicals. They bake us in the hot sun and freeze us in meat lockers—it’s different every day, they’re endlessly imaginative, and it’s all just to see what might happen. They cut us open, take what they want, and put us back together again.”
He lifts his shirt, revealing a jagged scar that runs all the way up his abdomen nearly to his collarbone. It seems to radiate agony, and the simple act of showing us unlocks memories that cause his whole body to shake.
“They let me out so I could help them communicate with the Alpha,” he says, his voice growing with intensity and pain. “I’ve done my best, but when I’m no longer useful, they will send us back. Samuel, Rochelle—yes, they experiment on her, too, Summer. They are just as fascinated with the people we love. But I won’t go back. I’ll die first. So, Summer, please, take Lyric and Leonard, take Doyle’s help, leave this place and never look back while you still can.”
He pulls his shirt down, then stares at each one of us, like he’s a lost dog hoping one of us will show him some kindness.
“I have to go,” he continues. “The incident with the Ceto girl requires a response from the prime, and I need to write one that will dull his unique sense of antagonism.”
And then Terrance is gone, and my mother weeps. All through the night the tears come in painful jerks, as if they are stealing some vital organ from her as they escape her eyes. My father and I share a mutual helplessness, watching over her while she mourns her lost family.
When she finally falls asleep, my father and I turn on the television to watch Terrance’s press conference. It’s on every channel. The camera lights are white hot, and he’s sweating so much, he has to use a handkerchief to wipe his face.
“My name is Terrance Lir. I am a Son of Sirena and a member of the Alpha Nation. I’m also one of the original Alpha sent here years ago. I speak to you on behalf of my people as the voice of His Majesty the prime. He hoped that by living side by side, our two peoples could experience fruitful lives of mutual respect and cooperation.
“This hope has faced many obstacles in the last three years, but none so great as the events of today. A Daughter of Ceto, known by the human name of Bumper, was arrested by military and police officials today at Hylan High School. Bumper is part of a pilot program of Alpha children attending a human school in Coney Island, New York. She is also the daughter of what humans might consider our secretary of education. Despite her lofty position in our world, Bumper, like all the Alpha children, has faced endless bullying, threats, and physical assaults. We were told when we agreed to take part in this program that our children would be treated as diplomats, protected by law enforcement, and shielded from violence. Those promises were never honored. Humanity may turn a blind eye to bullying, but an Alpha cannot. It is our custom to answer challenges with battle, yet Bumper did her best to weather the abuse. Today the attacks went from verbal to physical, and sadly a human child was killed. Our nation respects your justice system, but our efforts to speak with Bumper have been stymied, and we have recently discovered that she was removed from the Zone. She has, as one official put it, simply disappeared. We cannot tolerate kidnappings and disappearances. It is just those kinds of actions that led to the killing of nine Americans soldiers on our beach three years ago.
“Thus, our council, made up of representatives of all the nation’s clans, has issued this demand: Bumper must be returned to us by tomorrow morning at eight, safe and unharmed, after which conversations can begin about a proper punishment for her actions. If, however, she is not returned by this deadline, our people will consider her a prisoner of war and will also consider ourselves at war with you. We will, as our people always have, respond to this challenge, as all challenges are answered. This is our way.”
“So he was right,” I say.
My father nods.
“That’s insane. There’re only thirty thousand of them,” I say.
My father’s phone rings. “Looks like I’m going back to work.”
I watch Terrance set his paper down, then look to the crowd of reporters.
“I will take a few questions, but please know that I speak on the orders of the prime and the Alpha council. I can only tell you what I have been told.”
A reporter mumbles something his microphone does not broadcast on TV.
“Are we declaring war? Bumper is fifteen years of age, a sensitive girl, and the child of an important member of our society. Bringing her back to her family and our community will be our nation’s only concern. If that doesn’t occur, there will be consequences.”
Another reporter raises his hands. “Are you telling us that the Alpha are going to go to war with America using spears and tridents?”