Hope

A distant train whistle blows, causing me to jump, my hand clutching tighter to Miss Hallow’s. She laughs as she pulls me closer as we walk along the station’s platform, her skirt swishing softly.

“Come now, Emery. It’s just the train whistle. It’s to let everyone know to get on board.”

I look up at her, bottom lip between my teeth as I trot alongside, my legs struggling with the fast pace. “Are we going to catch this train?” I ask.

She smiles down at me, curly hair bouncing. “No. Remember? Mrs. Colt said the family would meet us here at the train station, and if you turn out to be a good fit for their family, they’ll take you back to their home in the city.”

I nod, a small frown forming on my face. I really hope this family will take me. I’d very much like to take a trip on the train, but I’d be sad having to leave Miss Hallow and all my friends behind. Maybe I could come back and visit? Surely Mrs Colt would let me come back for a sleepover.

~~~

I never did get to catch a train, but now that I’m stuck inside this glowing shoebox, I’m glad I missed the opportunity. Trains had windows, from what I remember, but maybe they were just as horrible to ride in as a voomer.

My stomach twists once again as the vehicle moves. I’m guessing it’s picking up speed. I shudder as I’m overwhelmed with the feeling of falling, my hands bracing against the hard plastic seat. I hunch over as the voomer causes another wave of sickness to pass over me, a ball of spit lodging itself in my throat.

I suppose when you’re travelling to places in only minutes, there’s bound to be some side effects.

Swallowing, I watch as the voomer door hisses open once again, finally allowing me to exit. I stand, hands grasping the walls as I make my way to the door on wobbly feet, praying that I somehow don’t miss the tiny floating step. Making sure I still have my backpack, I can’t help it as I blink at the loss of light once I’m plunged into a dark tunnel yet again. Dull violet lights run along the sides towards the exit, and another officer stands at the already open gate.

“Uh-”

“Emery Lowence?” The officer booms, hands folded behind his back.

“Yes?” I shuffle towards him, eyeing the hulk of a man.

He’s dressed in a dark green uniform and a slouched hat. Badges adorn both his jacket sleeves and chest, and there’s something far more intimidating about him that the last officer. He stands at a few heads taller than myself, broad shoulders causing his uniform to strain at his shoulders.

“I will escort you to your host.” He turns swiftly on his heel, walking away without waiting to see if I’m following.

I guess I don’t have a choice, unless I want to be stuck in this tunnel all alone.

The lights slowly begin to get brighter, the purple hue turning white as we get closer to the exit. Noise from the building ahead echoes down the hallway and I can’t help it as my nerves once again begin to spike.

The man before me doesn’t change his pace, but as the tunnel begins to lighten, I notice something a little different about him. His spine juts out in his uniform jacket, making it look as if small spikes run down the length of his back. Now that I can have a proper look at him, his frame does look a little too broad for a human. Peering a little closer, I swear I can see small red scales poking out from the top of his uniform collar.

Feeling myself sweat a little with this newfound discovery, I decide to catch up to him, keeping in time with his long strides.

“Um, e-excuse me, but would you perhaps know if my, uh, host, is here yet?” I ask.

He glances down at me from the corner of his eye, his irises reflecting green like a cat’s. “Yes. I have been informed that a representative of Mr. Mirker has come to collect you.”

I nod, letting myself fall back a little as we finally make it into the main building.

It looks similar in structure to the one back in my city, the ceiling sitting high above us. It’s bigger, I think, and instead of white the place is decked out in tones of beige and cream. What looks like the colour of sand ripples through the marbled floors, climbing up pillars that extend up into the roof.

All the officers or officials appear to be wearing various degrees of smiles on their faces, chatting happily with the aliens and humans walking freely throughout the Department. At least everyone seems to be happy here.

“This way.” The man gestures to the right, leading me away from the area littered with desks, television screens, and lines of people waiting to be served.

Instead of leading me to one of the lineups, he takes me towards the front of the building that’s roped off by a fence of light. A large crowd stands behind it, mainly a mix of alien species. All of them don’t look very happy to be here.

The officer with me holds a hand before me, causing me to stop short. He steps forward, leaning his wrist against one of the poles that projects the fence, causing the pole to beep and cut off the stream of iridescent light acting as a barrier.

“Emery Lowence, Mirker family,” he booms.

All the creatures begin to whisper and groan, muttering under their breathes in what I think is disappointment. Hundreds of eyes peer at me from the other side of the fence, glaring. Sweat begins to run down my back once again as the aliens of all sizes stare me down.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many aliens all in one place. They all look different. Some have big eyes, three eyes, or six eyes. Some are covered in feathers, spines, and other various appendages.

Before long, a hand shoots up in the air from amongst the crowd and a small person pushes their way through the dense crowd. Small chirps leave their mouth in what I think is a way of apologising, but I can’t be sure. The closer they get to the front, the more I can see that this person is definitely not human.

Their skin is on the yellow side and small pixie ears poke out from a mop of curls. For a moment I think that I’m mistaken, that maybe my eyes were deceiving me and it is a human. Only, I startle in shock as the small person’s face scrunches into a horrendous expression, showing off a pair of very sharp looking fangs to one of the aliens who doesn’t move out of the way.

Finally, they manage to shove their way through the crowd, stumbling over their own two feet as they stand before the officer, hand still raised in the air.

“Yes! I am Caster. I will take charge!” They squeak.

They’re dressed head to toe in a beige and gold robe and their feet are covered in a pair of what appears to be silk slippers. The biggest blue eyes I have ever seen peer up at the officer, a fierce stare on their small face.

They look a little like a male, but I can’t be too sure. Sharp cheek bones and an angular face are not particularly telling of a gender. Aliens seem to differentiate themselves differently than humans.

The guard bows his head at the little figure, before marching away, letting the light stream back in place once Caster as stepped over to stand next to me. They smile up at me, hands clasped in front of them as they inspect my face. Their eyes run down my body, a small worried frown working its way onto their face.

“You are not female, by any chance?” they ask, beginning to bounce nervously on their toes.

I blink down at them. Have they never seen a human before? “Uh, no. I’m not. Are you?”

“Oh.” Caster stares up at me for a moment more, big eyes blinking owlishly, “I am male too. Mr. Mirker wanted a female. Can you, maybe, change to female? That would be big help to Caster.”

Should I be insulted?

“I’m sorry, but I can’t, uh, I’m kind of stuck with what I’ve got.”

His whole body seems to slump at my news, a finger coming up to poke at his chin in thought.

“Mr. Mirker didn’t tell me what to do if you are male,” he says to himself, muttering in another language under his breath.

His mannerisms seem strange. The way he moves is disjointed and a little clumsy, his speech reminding me of a child’s.

He hums. “I will take you to register. Maybe Caster can exchange.”

Exchange? Like an unwanted present?

He glides over to an alien at a smaller desk, multiple screens hanging around her. Caster tugs me with him by my sleeve until we’re leaning up against the desk.

The alien seated there makes my eyes widen.

She’s obviously female, her skin a blush pink and her chest rounded like that of a woman. Small horns run down her head like a Mohawk, disappearing beneath her shirt. Six boney digits type away on her keyboard, and her face is long and plated with thick scales. She kind of looks like a spiky lizard, and the temptation to check if she has a tail to match is almost overwhelming.

Caster begins chatting to her with a series of fast clicks and hums, his eyes switching from me and back to the alien. I’m not really sure what he’s saying, but I hope that this conversation doesn’t lead to me being back inside a voomer.

Caster tugs on my wrist, pulling me even closer to the pink alien. She grins a mouth full of pointy teeth, handing Caster a small handheld device.

“Place finger on here.” Caster guides my hand over the device.

I do as he says, placing my finger into a small indent. We wait for a minute, the pink alien typing something on her screen before looking back down at me as I stand...waiting.

“Is it supposed to do someth- Ah!” I yelp, yanking my finger away.

The little device beeps, a bead of my blood sitting on the deceivingly smooth surface. The noise causes the alien lady to smile, taking back the device and saying something to Caster. He grins in response, waiting as the alien hand him a receipt from whatever transaction just happened. He tucks it away in his robes, chirping happily to the lady before pulling me away.

“What was that for?” I ask, gingerly sucking the blood left on my finger.

Caster continues to pull me out of the building and out into the sunshine, a smile pulling at his cheeks. “Register Emery. See?”

He takes a moment to pull out the piece of paper he had just tucked away, unfolding it to hold it up to my face. I gently move his hand so it’s not so close, but I can’t seem to be able to make out the words typed up anyway. They don’t seem to be in English, but even if they were, I doubt I would understand what they spelt out very well.

Frustrated, I sigh, letting Caster fold the receipt back up for safe keeping. I’m not sure what any of this means. Registration? What did that have to do with anything? Why did I need to be registered? Nothing makes any sense, and I still don’t know where I’m going, or what’s going to happen to me. Or who the heck this Mr. Mirker is.