—…

—What do you think?

—That’s a really…sad story?

—It is, isn’t it? Maybe it should have a happier ending. Maybe the seagulls are angry for being shot at and they start dropping things, little rocks, bombing the hell out of everyone. Then one of the baby seagulls can’t find a small enough rock so he drops the pearl, right in the fisherman’s hand. Is that better?

—I’m not sure…Is that all the help you’re willing to give me?

—Help? I just thought you might like a story! You seemed a little on edge.

—I’m horrible with metaphors. I’m guessing we’re the seagulls. Do the aliens think we stole Themis from them?

—Oh, I see. The pearl would be a metaphor for Themis. That’s cute.

—Do they think we stole anything from them?

—No. They don’t fish either, in case you were about to ask. I’m sure they’d like crab if they ever tried it, though.

—So we have alien beings who really don’t like to interfere, but think they need to…somehow. The only thing I can get from your story is that they might be doing it for the wrong reason. Unless we’re the crabs, and they’re not trying to kill us at all. But who are the seagulls?

—Wow. I hope you realize you’re talking to yourself now. I’ve already done a lot more than I should, so you’ll have to go the rest of the way on your own. On the upside, you should find comfort in the fact that you’ll “deserve” what success you may have. Ah! Our food’s coming!

—Can I ask one more question?

—Is it a funny question?

—Are we…family?

—That is funny. Do we look like we’re family?

—I mean, am I an alien? Part alien?

—What does that even mean?

—Am I like you? Your ancestors, a long, long time ago, they weren’t from this planet, were they?

—And if they weren’t, what would that make me? Better, or worse?

—I…I don’t know how to answer that.

—You should. You really should.

FILE NO. 1600

PERSONAL LOG—VINCENT COUTURE, CONSULTANT, EDC AND EVA REYES

Location: Shadow Government Bunker, Lenexa, KS

—That’s really nice, Eva. Did you draw that today?

—Last night. I couldn’t sleep.

—Is that…?

—Yes. That’s you.

—That’s me? When did my nose get so big?

—It’s just a drawing.

—It’s nice, Eva. You’re really good, you know. And who’s that one by your bed?

—That’s my mom.

—Your—

—My Puerto Rican mom. Not—

—Her name’s Kara.

—I know that.

—…You said you couldn’t sleep. Nightmares?

—Mm-hmm.

—Me too.

—And I hate it here. This bed sucks, and—

—And what?

—Nothing. It’s silly.

—You can tell me.

—…

—Come on!

—I had this—

—Yes…

—I had a plush turtle. I told you it was stupid.

—And it helped you sleep, and now it’s gone.

—They wouldn’t let me take anything. The people who—

—Would a beat-up gopher do the trick?

—What?

—It’s a plush…gopher, about this big.

—No! My mom gave me that turtle!

—That one’s also…It belonged to Kara. I don’t know the story behind it, but she kept it in a box with some other stuff. It’s missing an eye and it’s ripped in a few places, but it’s…Well, it’s a gopher. It’s yours if you want it.

—…

—Well, think about it. Can I ask how? Inside Themis…How did you know Kara was your…biological mother?

—I wasn’t sure. I thought she might be. She looked like…like I imagined my mother would.

—How did you know the people who raised you in Puerto Rico weren’t your real parents?

—They were my real parents!

—I’m sorry. Your biological parents.

—My mother was Puerto Rican. My father was from Belize. I’m…superwhite. But I didn’t know. When I was seven, I broke my best friend’s arm for saying bad things about my mother. It wasn’t just her. All the kids, they kept saying my mom was sleeping around. I even believed them for a while. My parents explained it to me after I sent my friend to the hospital. I didn’t understand. I’d seen pictures of my mom pregnant, pictures of my birth. I didn’t know you could make babies that way.

—…

—What are you looking at?

—You have her eyes. Kara’s.

—…

—I’m sorry Eva. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.

—Can I ask you something?

—Anything.

—What do you want?

—I just came to see how you were doing.

—I mean what do you want with me? You’re not my “real” dad. You don’t have to take care of me just because you gave a sample of your—

—Eva, I know you’re upset. You have every right to be. You lost your parents. Then you met Kara, and she died too, but—

—I still have one left.

—One what?

—A mother. I still have one left.

—One mother? Who?

—Alyssa.

—Wh…Alyssa’s not your mother. Who told you that?

—She made me, didn’t she?

—I don’t believe this. Who told you that?

—She did!

—When did you speak to Alyssa?

—She came to see me while you were away. She said she made me in a lab, so that I could pilot Themis if one of you died. She said you tried to stop her.

—Let me get this straight. Alyssa came to see you and she told you that she made you?

—Yes.

—…

—It’s true, isn’t it?

—It’s…It’s more complicated than that.

—Would you have told me?

—Would I have told you? Not now! Someday, maybe. I’m so sorry you had to hear any of this.