Page 8 of Homebound
Aunt Herise looked stricken - obviously, the thought hadn’t occurred to her. “Gosh, I sure hope not. Do you know, Gemma? Did they train you at the prison not to touch them?”
“Ah, well, I don’t know anything about the diseases. We don’t touch the inmates, not really.”
“Good,” Herise looked vastly relieved. “Make sure you stay away from them. God forbid you bring home parasites.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gemma said meekly, uncomfortable with the topic for some reason.
Her mind conjured the image of the white skeletal creature in the cell with the boarded-up window. It would be dark there now, the lights out for the night with only the feeble emergency bulb flickering by the door that led to the stairs. A woman prisoner had once confessed to Gemma that the nights were the worst, dark and cold in winter, with the sounds augmented by the still air and echoing walls.
Was the alien suffering now, alone in the cold cell, in the dark? Did it even matter to him, blind and deaf? Did he dream of home?
Gemma had no idea what species he belonged to or what his home planet was.
After helping Aunt Herise clean up and wash dishes, Gemma retreated to her room armed with a study book on aliens and the Universe. Her eyes felt gritty and her eyelids heavy after a long day, but she wanted to know.
The study book, intended for children, yielded only the basic information about well-known alien groups, like Perali, Tana-Tana, and Sakka. A few others were briefly described to a lesser detail, and Gemma absorbed the tidbits of knowledge motivated to learn as much as possible to be better prepared for her new assignment.
After perusing all the available information for a short time, she closed the book. White skeletal creatures with long hair and overly large milky eyes didn’t feature in the contents, and the mystery of it nagged at Gemma’s mind.
Before turning in for the night, Gemma got up and took out a stubby pencil. On a small wall calendar that she’d fashioned out of recycled sheets of paper, she crossed out today’s date with a neat diagonal line. Just as she’d done 782 times in the two years, one month, and three weeks that went by since she’d waved Zeke off on a cool windy morning.
Chapter 3
“Hey, Gemma, come quick! Didn’t you hear the summons?”
Gemma hurried over to Ruby holding a stack of dirty aluminum cups against her chest.
“No. What happened?”
“A dirty protest went off on the fifth floor during the night. It’s contained now, but the mess is epic. We are to help clean up.”
“A dirty protest?”
“You know, when inmates piss and shit everywhere except in the toilet. They smear the stuff on the walls, throw it around.”
“Eww.” She couldn’t even imagine. “Why would they do that?”
“In protest. Because of the conditions, the overcrowding.”
“How is this going to help?”
“It ain’t. But they try anyway.”
Gemma was having a hard time picturing the deed. Defecating on the floor and smearing excrement on the walls? Picking up and throwing feces by the handful into the corridor?
“I can’t believe anyone would do that. How disgusting.”
“Human males for you - shit’s everywhere. Piss is dripping from the ceiling. You know, aliens don’t really do that. Well, except for…” Ruby threw a pointed look toward Little Green Man, who, Gemma had learned from the study book, belonged to a Weerstra dwarf race. The Weerstra were not a real developed nation, but they adapted well except for their poor appropriation of social norms, which made it a challenge to interact with them long-term. And their limited self-control was a known problem, so much so that some alien groups considered them parasitic and killed on sight.
Gemma didn’t want anyone killed, but if their prisoner was a representative example of his people, she could see why Weerstra failed to endear the Universe.
She adjusted her stack of cups. “Let me take them downstairs. Do I need to get a bucket?”
“No, someone else is bringing supplies. Just show up and quick. The OO will be doing the inspection hisself.”
“Say no more.”
She hurried on down.
