Snake Keeper by Alexandra Norton
CHAPTER TWO
MY FATHER WASimportant, but not important enough to stop the machine once world leaders decided to comply with the Federation’s demands.
They might have held out, if not for the virus spreading across the globe. People were dying by the hundreds of thousands with no vaccine or reliable cure in sight. The aliens claimed to have both. That was enough for the old men of the world to gather their people to offer up.
Not that there was a shortage of volunteers, at least not in America. There were plenty of crazies who wanted to go to space, but not all of them were deemed appropriate representatives of humanity. Very Important Committees were tasked with picking a suitable selection from various countries, after much negotiation. There had even been proposals to host a live competition show, with judges, on TV. They shut that one down quickly. This was to be a somber event; not to mention they didn’t exactly have time to put on a production.
In some locations, people were more wary of what they were being asked to do. African nations revolted: this would just be more of their people sent for experimentation and certain doom, they said. Who could blame them?
But the governments found a way. Nobody said the “delegates” had to be volunteers.
The age distribution of the delegates was fairly even between twenties and fifties. The Federation cared not about the age or physical state of the human delegates. Human committees chose 55 as the cap, as the people had to be in good health. As representatives, they needed to be capable and survive the ordeal for long enough to make a good impression.
“Thank you for your sacrifice,” the director of the World Health Organization said in a live televised address to the human offerings. “You will not be forgotten. You will not only help us enter a new intergalactic age, but also cure the pandemic ravaging our planet. Songs will be sung and statues built in your honor. Godspeed, and we will see you all in five years.”
My ice cream melted on my tongue as I stared at the TV on the couch in leggings and a hoodie. A significant part of me still couldn’t believe this was happening.
And all this time, none of us had seen a single alien. What were these people being signed up for? Would their “Keepers” (as the aliens called them) be little green men? Tentacled monsters?
“If they’re going to offer us on a platter, they could at least show us the damn things,” I complained to Dad one evening when he finally emerged from his office.
“The representatives will see them. An introduction event is scheduled in each region with a representative the night before they leave: in three days, in our case.”
Dad looked like he had aged twenty years in the past few months. He hated this whole thing, but grew to understand the necessity of it.
“Well, can I see them?” I asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not letting you anywhere near those things.”
His tune changed two days later, when he sat me down at the kitchen table after leaving his office for the day.
“The Federation has agreed to prove their commitment to providing us with a cure for the virus by inoculating attendees at the introduction events,” he said.
“Holy shit. So you’ll get the vaccine?!” The death toll from the spreading virus had been on the up and up and the media was frankly growing concerned with whether the aliens would even follow through with their promise after we handed over our sons and daughters (and even wives and husbands apparently, in some cases). The virus had mutated into various deadly strains, now with a death rate of 50% in those infected. How could they possibly have had time to develop both a vaccine and a cure so quickly?
“Yes. And so will you. As much as I hate the thought of you being anywhere near them, this might be a risk worth taking. Everything we’ve seen so far suggests they do can deliver on this promise. The sooner I know you’re safe…” He trailed off, staring stared at his coffee.
I expected to feel more excitement. Not only would I get to see the aliens, I’d also be safe from a very serious disease. I couldn’t remember the last time I left the house. Lately I hadn’t even been going outside for walks, since the virus was now extensively airborne, and long-lived even in the open air. I longed to go out for a run, or even just a stroll through the neighborhood, or something.
It still frightened me: what if it didn’t work? What if it killed us? But if Dad trusted this thing, I had no reason not to.
***
THE “INTRODUCTION EVENT” (seemed more like a goodbye event to me) was held in the East Wing of the White House. I had been a few times with Dad, but never for an occasion like this. To stand out as little as possible, I put on a simple black dress, black heels, and Mom’s silver bracelet (for courage). I felt so apocalyptic, in a somewhat fancy dress with a utilitarian looking N95 to top off the look. Officials in hazmat suits took our temperature at the entrance.
We went through an interim room where I stopped dead in my tracks: there were nurses here, and none of them were wearing masks. They instructed us to remove our own respirators. I glanced at Dad. He nodded, and I hesitantly squirted a serving of disinfectant into my palm before removing my mask and letting it fall into the provided sanitary bin.
Are we the lab rats here? How safe is this?
A nurse took me aside, sat me in a white plastic chair and instructed me to tilt back my head.
“The inoculation is delivered through the tear ducts. I will apply three drops to each eye. You may feel a slight burning sensation, but it should go away in a few seconds. If it does not go away, you need to tell me immediately. If you feel any other pain, you need to tell me immediately. If you feel any dizziness or discomfort, tell me immediately. Do you understand?”
“I feel dizziness and discomfort now,” I said, clenching my thumbs to try to get my nerves under control.
“Don’t worry,” the nurse smiled. “It works.”
“You know that for sure?”
She nodded. “Yes. We’ve run tests.”
I held my breath, tilting my head back as told. I did not see the dropper in her hand. All I saw was a purple haze coating my vision in one eye, then the other as she applied the drops.
The burning sensation lasted for only a moment before everything felt normal again.
“That’s it? I’m safe?” I wasn’t entirely convinced that I wasn’t dreaming.
“That’s it!” the nurse patted my shoulder.
And then I started crying. Fuck. I fought to keep the tears from spilling down my cheeks. But the joy of being at the beginning of the end, of being able to maybe see my friends again soon, was too much to handle.
The nurse was prepared with a box of tissues. I spotted Dad across the room, having just received his dose. I ran towards him, hugging him tight, no doubt smearing makeup on his military dress suit. But this was bigger than appearances. It was over.
***
WHEN WE LEFTthe interim inoculation area to enter the actual party, the mood was… complicated. I saw a mixture of relief and strained somberness on the unmasked faces in the room. The President himself had a bounce in his step, but carefully maintained a straight face as he talked with what must have been relatives of the woman being offered to the Federation.
The aliens, on the other hand, were all smiles. I watched them mingle with a few Cabinet officials. There were no tentacles or claws in sight, but they certainly stood out. I immediately picked a few different species in attendance. They were all humanoid, but presented differently. A tall, older female had ram-like horns curling up from her forehead and to the back of her skull. Two males who appeared to be about her age laughed at something the Vice President was saying, flashing a row of sharp teeth filling their mouths.
The Keeper at the center of the ordeal was easy to spot. Surely he was the one standing next to a chattering, infatuated girl amid the throng. I stepped a little closer to get a better view between the shifting bodies around him. The girl seemed to be a little younger than I was, a pretty black-haired elf who was all smiles. She craned her neck to look up at the towering alien, who held a glass in his hand and nodded along with whatever she was saying mechanically.
He could have passed for a very tall human if not for a pair of crimson eyes with vertical black slits for pupils, hooded by a strong brow; a predator’s eyes.
“A snake’s eyes,” I thought as I watched him bend down to mutter something to the girl.
A strange black line ran down the center his neck, disappearing under the parted collar of his black shirt. I wondered if the aliens donned human clothes just for the occasion, or if our styles really were so similar.
He moved with a serpentine slowness and deliberation; a coiled cobra, one that could strike at any moment before his prey could even begin to react. The sight unnerved me; I looked away and snatched a glass of something from a passing tray to distract myself from the chill that ran up my spine.
“Chill, Emily,” I muttered under my breath. The girl being given to this creature did not seem to sense or be repelled by any of this. On the contrary, she seemed… smitten. I watched as she tossed her glossy black hair over her shoulder and leaned toward the Keeper, resting a delicate pale palm on his chest.
An older couple standing behind her exchanged distraught looks.
They must be the parents.
At least they found someone willing. I sipped whatever drink was in the glass I’d grabbed and suppressed a cough. Martini. Strong.
My father approached the group with a couple of other military officials. I smiled a little, seeing the obvious distaste in his body language. Did he sense the repellant vibe coming from the alien as well? The Keeper turned away from his willing prey (was that an almost-human look of relief I saw?) to greet Dad with a smile. They’d clearly met before. The alien held out his arm, palm down. Did aliens shake hands?
Dad offered his own arm underneath the alien’s, palm up, and they grasped each other at the elbow for a moment. The Keeper repeated the same greeting with the men accompanying Dad. It reminded me of a variation of a Roman handshake we’d studied in my social norms module in university. The alien’s arm was always on top; was that part of the custom?
I realized I’d been observing the aliens with the obsessive focus of a wildlife photographer. I tore my gaze away and roamed the room for a few minutes, exchanging tense small talk with some people I knew through Dad. Nobody was really in much of a talking mood. Even the music from the live string band seemed somber. The only happy one seemed to be the girl being offered up to the frightening creature.
I had distracted myself with the canapes and with wondering if I could manage to snap a photo of the aliens (a fantasy, of course. The entire event was confidential and teeming with secret service agents). The mood seemed to lighten as the humans ingested more alcohol; plus, it was fine to be jovial if the woman you’re boosting off the face of the Earth is happy about it.
A little too happy, if you asked me. She looked like a bit of a goth girl, one of those who’d likely, at some point in her life, fantasized about becoming a vampire or something. It was purely a vibe I got from her… black… fashion choice and studded Hot Topic-esque necklace. I guess you had to be a little “off” to volunteer to get handed over to an alien.
“Is she going to… have to do stuff with that thing?” I wondered as I finished my martini.
Anyway, the mood got lighter, and the aliens dispersed through the room to mingle with us puny humans. I stayed out of the main perimeter. I was curious to learn more about each species represented here, but had no intention of actually talking to the things.
I had been scouting for a server to grab my second martini when I spotted a sight that showed even aliens were not immune from awkward encounters. Scene: the Keeper, walking across the room from my left; his bride to be on the other side of the room, her head swiveling this way and that as she searches for him in the crowd. She spots her target. Their eyes lock. A fleeting but definitely present look of irritation on the alien’s face as he spins on his heel and makes a sharp right, pretending not to see her.
I couldn’t help but snort out a laugh as he strutted quickly past me in his getaway.
And then, a few steps away, he stopped. He had his back to me. I froze as he turned his head to look over his shoulder in my direction.
Shit.
Amusement was quickly replaced by dread as he retraced his steps and came to stand before me in two long strides. I was scared for a moment, sure, but soon I just grew annoyed. He annoyed me. Who was this Snake to come into my space and try to intimidate me? Who was he to scare me? He was on my planet, making demands of my people. I met his gaze through narrowed eyes, fighting the clenching ball in my stomach as his reptilian eyes trained on mine.
I would not look away. I straightened my shoulders and held out my arm, palm down, towards the creature.
He looked at my arm, a small smile playing on his lips. Then the stony gaze moved back to mine as he returned the greeting, palm up under mine. Our limbs hovered there, an inch away, close enough for the peach fuzz on the back of my arm to rise and goosebumps to form on my skin. He was waiting.
I clasped his elbow with a firm grip, and he did the same. His skin was warm; warmer than a human. But what made me take a tiny step back was the electric buzz, almost a shock, that shot from his skin to mine. It flowed through my arm like a current. Painless, faint, but like nothing I had ever felt before. What was the aliens’ skin made of?
“Emily Robinson,” I said, my voice not cracking, thank God.
“Xioumar,” the alien’s low voice seemed to resonate richly from deep inside his chest, as though he was producing sound not from his larynx but from somewhere inside his very core.
“Is it common for humans to mock representatives of extraterrestrial delegations?” The alien frowned.
“Only when they’re funny,” I shot back.
We glared at each other and I was fully prepared to win this staring contest, but then I felt my hand being twisted as the Keeper applied firm pressure on my elbow, rotating my arm to put his on top.
The fucker is making a power move.
I clenched my jaw and resisted the push, fighting to keep myself the dominant orientation. I sensed eyes on us as others noticed the scene. Did they see what was happening, or did this just look like a friendly alien handshake to them? I had my answer when I glanced behind Xioumar and spotted the terrified expression on the face of the contact specialist standing there.
The alien bared his teeth in a smile that wasn’t a smile and leaned forward to mutter low, so only I could hear: “This game bores me.”
I balked at the forked tongue I noticed in his mouth. He really was a snake.
In the next moment, my arm was underneath his, twisted into submission as he clasped my elbow in an iron grip, just as I’d witnessed him do when greeting other humans through the night. Pain and electric shock shot up to my shoulder, which had begun to shake uncontrollably.
My cheeks burned with anger, not shame, when he eventually released me. I opened my mouth, but the insult caught in my throat when his pupils contracted into needle-thin slits, turning his eyes into nearly solid crimson pools. My confidence faltered.
Dad rushed up to us just as we released our respective holds. He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me towards him.
“I see you’ve met my daughter,” he said to Xioumar, no pleasantry in his voice.
“Charmed.” The alien nodded, pupils expanding to a slightly less terrifying size.
“I’m afraid we have to go.” Dad excused us and practically dragged me towards the exit, pausing only to say a quick goodbye to the Vice President who happened to be in our way.
We walked out into the street and I sucked in crisp night air, rubbing my aching arm when Dad wasn’t looking. We waited in silence while the valet brought Dad’s Jeep around. My breath puffed into the cold air as I chuckled at the memory of being taken to my fancy private school in that Jeep, climbing out among a carpool of black Bentleys. Daddy never was one for appearances: “You never know when you have to go off-road,” he’d say.
“Are you alright?” he asked once we were in the car.
“Yeah,” I said, hugging my arms to my chest. I could still feel the discomforting heat of the alien’s skin, and the unnerving flow of buzzing electricity into my arm. “I’m fine.”