The Deathless Trilogy

3.32. Robert's Crew

Roberts' crew lands today. More precisely, it lands within a few minutes. The spacecraft lights the sky as it re-enters our atmosphere.

Our armies stand in a half circle around the tree line behind where all the leaders—Mom, Jacob, Raviv, Declan, a Nomad taking Carmine's place as leader, and I—stand with white flags. If the crew doesn't accept our show of peace, they will be met with the force of our armies, including Dad, Daniel, Ava, and Celia who wait slightly closer to us than the rest of our soldiers. Just in case.

As the craft nears earth, it appears more and more like a star, glowing and growing as it tumbles toward us, and finally, the light breaks and I can see the white nose of the spacecraft. Parachutes spring out behind it, slowing its descent.

This is it: the moment everyone from Deathless to Original to Roberts and Cooper to the Middle Eastern Alliance has been waiting for. The spacecraft touches down, sending a wave of air and heat over the yard. It nearly knocks me over, but I catch my balance. I hold the white flag steady.

With a loud whoosh, the spacecraft comes to a stop. It's a lot smaller than I imagined it would be, but then again, I have also been living on a massive tank and in a giant estate for the past few months. As the craft stops, smoke rises from its sides. I can't imagine how hot it must be from re-entry.

I press my fingers to the voice box at my throat. "Hold steady," I say to our soldiers behind me.

We wait. For a full minute, nothing happens, and a creeping fear snakes through my veins. What if they're preparing for an attack? After all we've survived, what if this is the end?

Then the spacecraft door opens with a hiss as the pressure lock is unsealed. "Steady," I remind our soldiers. From out of the smoke, a figure emerges and stands still in the doorway. Then another, and another. They begin to spill out of the spacecraft, and I realize: They are all teenagers like me, and they all look confused as hell.

They examine the entire yard and step cautiously, like the ground may collapse beneath them. I step forward, my brows furrowed, reflecting their confusion.

"Hello," I call to them, and they turn toward us, holding their hands to their eyes to block the sun.

"Hello," one of them, a girl with braided hair, replies.

"My name is Isla Blume," I say.

The teenagers' confusion turns to panic. A tall boy with pale skin says, "I don't think I have a name. I don't know where I am."

"Me either."

"Me either," the responses echo through their crowd.

What the hell? "We would like to approach you in peace," I say. "Please reveal all weapons you may be carrying."

The boy pulls a pen from his pocket, but the others pat themselves down, finding nothing. "Are we supposed to have weapons?" the braided-haired girl asks.

"I don't have anything," another girl tells her.

"Hands in the air," Raviv orders them. He isn't convinced, and honestly, after all the games Gunther played, I'm not either.

They hold their arms into the sky.

"Lie down face forward on the ground," Raviv orders, and once again, they do without question.

We approach them, and pat them down ourselves. Nothing. They weren't lying.

"You have no idea what your name is?" I ask the boy I pat down, a boy with glasses and long hair.

"I don't think I have one," he replies.

I lift his sleeves to check for hidden knives, when I see the glowing blue panel on his arm. I let out a sigh of frustration.