Entry 19

Ven directed me through the maze of ductwork. Eventually we came to a vent that he skillfully opened, and we slipped into an empty room. It looked like a conference room, with a large round table and many chairs of different varieties. If saving John had not been so important to me, I could have spent forever studying all the different chairs. Some were short, practically on the ground. Others had holes in the back of them that could have been for tails. Some were more of stools than chairs, and still others had layers of arm rests as is for aliens with multiple arms. It was as if a chair designer had gone insane.

“How do we know where to find John?” I asked Ven, tearing my attention away from the chairs.

“There should be a directory somewhere around here,” Ven answered. “Anthropologists aren’t exactly a secretive bunch. Most of the time they like to boast about their accomplishments, thinking their area of study is better than their colleagues. If we can’t find your android in the directory, we should be able to ask.”

“Ask?” I repeated. It could not be so easy. I thought breaking my brother out would be much more difficult. I had expected it would take the skills of James Bond. Simply asking seemed far too simple and too easy.

“This isn’t a high security place, Carlee,” Ven said. “Anthropologists aren’t that worried about people breaking in to steal their books and artifacts.” He paused. “Though of course the more valuable artifacts are kept in a more secure location. Your android just isn’t considered that valuable.”

“He’s valuable to me,” I responded. Ven simply leveled me with a much too patient look.

“Follow me, Carlee,” he said. “We will find your android.”

Ven walked out of the conference room without so much as scoping out the hall first. He held his head high with confidence, as if he belonged. I darted out of the room not quite as at ease.

Aliens strolled through the halls. Aliens that towered ten or eleven feet high sauntered by me. Aliens that were barely bigger than mice raced past. Some aliens were rounder than they were tall. Other aliens were skinny like sticks. Some aliens were furry, other scaly, and still others had feathers. I saw colors I had never imagined, and my ears ached from frequencies it could barely hear. I felt quite small and insignificant as I followed Ven through the halls of the headquarters of the Society of Anthropologists. It took all of my self control not to grab his hand in fear. Ven was not my brother, and I would not seek comfort from him.

“So how does being a third generation non-Earthling work?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the sights and sounds that were assaulting me.

“We count from our most recent Earth direct ancestor,” he answered, not at all phased by the aliens strolling about us. “On my mom’s side my family has been non-Earth for many more generations. But my dad’s grandmother, my great grandmother, left Earth in what you would consider the 1940s.”

“How does a person just leave Earth?” I asked. I was not the brightest student, but even I knew Earth had not had space access until the Cold War and the Space Race.

“Same way you did,” Ven said. “There was a contamination issue. In my great grandmother’s case, she became a nurse in World War II and her android was an officer in the military. The android was shot. The Society of Anthropologists could not let Earth discover android technology so they pulled the android out of the war. They could not pull the android out without taking my grandmother as well. So she became an Earth liberated human, like you.”

“Earth liberated,” I repeated. “You make it sound as if living on Earth is living in bondage.”

“In many ways it is,” he answered. “Once you know the universe, Carlee, you’ll never want to go back. You have been freed from the confines of Earth. You have been liberated.”