I look up at the darkened sky.
I don't feel tired at all.
I don't have a set bed time, though people generally go to bed in shifts here.
Technically, I can go outside and wander all I want, but thoughts of those predators, of the acid rain, and of the aliens flash through my mind any time I try to walk any distance alone even in the daylight.
So instead...
I'm sitting on the roof of the factory we all inhabit.
The view is actually pretty beautiful.
And it makes me realize just how far we are from any other signs of life, or of civilization.
The stars and the moons are bright enough tonight that I can see quite a long distance - to the horizon, I think.
Yet in every direction, it might as well be us living alone on this planet. It's...oddly peaceful and serene. Like there are no monsters lingering in the dark, like there's not an army of cruel captors somewhere out there, continuing to abuse more humans every day.
...It's a scary thought.
When we get home, this place won't have changed. The people who don't escape with us will still be here, still be processed. And those tall grey aliens that captured us to begin with...thye'll still be out there, doing their thing.
What if we get captured again?
Realistically, that won't happen.
I think.
It's just that nobody has witnessed these kinds of abductions before - except maybe Mia's parents now, apparently - and I haven't ever known anyone who disappeared forever.
So.
If it's a random lottery, like I thought of it once...then there's even less chance we'll 'win' a second time.
...Unless the lottery system is rigged, and they have...some kind of method for choosing abductees.
But even if they did...
Well.
We'd register as already caught, right? No one would think to go looking for us again.
Of course, if we steal the ship, then they'll know we have come back to Earth. But Earth could be warned, too...!
I...
I shouldn't be thinking about this.
Not obsessing over it, at least. It's not healthy. I shouldn't fear what happens when we get home, because I still need to be focused on getting there in the first place.
...Still, I think I won't be able to go anywhere alone for a long time after we get back. It'll be a long time before I feel safe again.
Maybe I'll always feel unsafe, like my captors could return at any moment.
But...
I'd rather that fear than be here. Any day, any second.
I'm startled from my reverie by someone settling beside me. I startle and turn to them, and...
Ivan smiles at me.
"Ah, you found a nice spot to stargaze, Sarah." He nods toward the sky. "I can't blame you, the stars are beautiful tonight."
"...I guess."
I didn't really come here to stare at them or anything. But...well, now that I am, it's true.
The stars are really, really beautiful.
"...What brings you to the roof, Ivan?" I glance at him, but he seems content to simply sit here. He doesn't seem to be looking to me at all, his eyes fixed on the sky.
"...I suppose it's the stars."
"...The stars."
I glance at the sky.
"...They are beautiful. And...there's a lot of them."
He nods, smiling. "...It's a sight only few humans have seen, and one we'll never see again once we're home." His smile is soft and warm. His eyes sparkle a little. "...But I'm not too torn up about it. I've had the privilege of enjoying the sight for a very long time now."
"...How long have you been here, Ivan?"
His eyes flick over to me.
"...I'm afraid I can't quite answer that." He smiles, shrugging slightly. "I lost count a long time ago, you see." He pauses. "...A lot of years. A long, long time." His eyes turn sad. "A very long time. Time enough to devour the person I once was."
His voice sounds melancholic.
"...You never gave up hope?"
"...No. Never. Never that. I've come very close many times, but I always remembered my purpose and came back to it." He smiles at me. It's sad, and almost...wistful. "...A lot of my life was spent on the mission. And...it's not the kind of thing you give up on. Even when you've been here a long, long time, you still remember your mission."
"...Mission?"
He chuckles, and his smile widens. "To bring these people home. Even if it costs me my life, if these people get home...I'll succeed."
"...And what if they can't? What if we can't? What if the plan fails, what if something goes wrong?"
He hums, thoughtful. "It will. I'm not a fool, Sarah. Something will go wrong, whether we fail or succeed." His eyes are fixed on the stars. "...What matters is if we can adapt to it when it goes wrong. What we can salvage."
"...You think the mission will fail...?"
His lips quirk into a wry smile and he shakes his head. "If I thought that, I wouldn't allow anyone to take on the risk."
"....So...you think we can do it." I squint at him.
His smile fades into something softer. "...Yes, I believe we can do this."
"Even if something goes wrong."
"Yes, even if." His smile broadens and he meets my eyes. "...What matters isn't the plan, but the ability to adapt when that plan fails. To save who can be saved, even when there is loss."
I...
"...Do you think someone will...?" The thought is chilling, and I'm scared to even ask it, to voice my fears.
He reaches over and pats my shoulder.
"We can do only what we can." He smiles. "...And I believe you can do a lot."
"...I don't know about that. Honestly, I don't have a lot of skills." I shake my head, sighing. "...I'm not really...special at anything, I don't think."
"This world doesn't care about special. It doesn't care about the ordinary, either. It only cares if you have a purpose. It only cares if you get back up when it tears you down." Ivan is staring up into the stars. "...Just don't give up. Every morning. Tell yourself that." He glances to me. "The only special people are those that don't give up."
That sounds like a lot of effort. And a lot of emotional baggage I'm not ready for. Not now. Maybe not ever.
He watches me in silence for a long moment.
Then he stands, and stares up at the stars again.
"They're a beautiful sight. You should enjoy them while you still can."
And with those cryptic words, he turns and leaves.
I watch his back as he walks away.
...Nothing he said has made me feel even a little bit better.
But he has a point, doesn't he?
The stars won't be like this back home, not like they are now. I won't be able to look at a sky completely clear of light pollution, or see multiple moons in the sky, or witness constellations no one has named.
...No human has named, anyway.
So. I guess I should enjoy it.
...Even if it is hard to appreciate when I know it comes from this horrible place.