THE FRESH START

 I stumble onto a sunlit country road and fall to my knees. The dirt feels just like dirt from my home planet, but the farms that stretch to either side are full of growing things, not bomb craters. The sky is blue, not black with smoke. The soundscape is buzzing insects, not war.

My heart leaps. I’ve reached Newmerica.

I look back at the single-person space-to-surface vehicle I’d just exited. “Where’s my sister?”

A palm-sized tablet emerges from a slit near the hatch. A robotic voice says, “Welcome to Newmerica, Land of Empowerment. We hoped you enjoyed your stay in the N.A.S. Dilwit Trap Orbital Ship. Stand clear.” The vehicle glows.

“Wait! There’s supposed to be a liaison!”

“Departing.”

I snatch the tablet just as the ship rockets to the sky. I blink at my surroundings. The road is empty. The fields are filled with young plants, the robot tractors still. There are no humans in sight.

“Leila?” I call. “Are you here?”

Nothing.

I unclench my hand and contemplate the over-cooked meatball within it. I’d run to the cafeteria as soon as they’d announced the daily meal. Arriving late could mean missing it entirely, and a woman in Leila’s condition couldn’t risk that. Besides, my sister loves meatballs. When I’d returned a human guard waited. In a voice almost as robotic as the ship’s, he explained we’d been granted passage to the surface. My sister was already at the departure deck.

The shock of it, after months in the crowded ship, had brought me to tears. He didn’t let me keep the meal, but I’d palmed the meatball for Leila. She’d already left though.

The tablet beeps. A generic face beams from the screen. “Hello, I’m your AI Liaison! I’ll guide you through your integration into Newmerica!”

My heart sinks. “Isn’t there a human I could speak with?”

She smiles. “AI liaisons are safe and cost-effective! Name and home planet?”

“Gaia Mayjani, Earth.”

“Excellent!” A video replaces her face. It’s the Newmerican Premier, Dilwat Trap, shaking hands with the assassinated Earth president. Trap gives a thumbs-up to the camera.

I furrow my brow. “Trap never met President Hamilton in person, did he?”

“Hahaha, you are correct,” the AI says, returning to the screen. “But we feel it’s important to project the appearance of accord between our leaders.”

“But didn’t Trap call Hamilton a whiner when she pled for aid? Didn’t he say she’d have to suck his—”

“Hahaha. You may proceed to the Welcome Center.”

I look at the road. There are no signs and no buildings except a farmhouse in the distance. I clutch the meatball. “Is my sister at the Welcome Center?”

“Her name and home planet?”

“Leila Mayjani, Earth.”

“Processing your request. You may proceed.”

“Which way?”

“Focus the camera on the path, and I’ll guide you.”

The tablet enters camera mode. I lift it to the right.

 “That’s the way! A one-hour walk.”

“And Leila?”

“Still processing.”

I walk for twenty minutes before passing the farmhouse drive. Its locked gate is bracketed with signs: NO TRESPASSING. ALIENS SHOT ON SIGHT. My stomach clenches. “Did you find out about Leila?”

“I timed out. Silly me! Re-processing.”

Sighing, I continue on. The road climbs a hill and descends into another valley. The only water is in an irrigation ditch covered by slimy green film. My stomach aches with hunger, but I can’t eat Leila’s meatball. If she’s walking this same road, she’ll need it more than me.  

Another half-hour passes. “How long until I reach the Center?”

“Let me check that for you! Looks like…two hours!”

My stomach drops. “But you said it was an hour away.” I focus the camera on the road. “Am I still going the right direction?”

The screen flashes. “Absolutely.”

I make a one-eighty turn. “How about now?”

“Yup!”

“How is that possible? They’re opposites.”

“Hahaha, my bad!”

“Will the Welcome Center people come looking for me?”

“There’s an Escapee Recovery Team.”

“But I’m not an escapee. I’m a refugee. I’ve been granted asylum.”

“According to Premier Trap, all Earthlings are criminals and terrorists.”

“That’s not true! And why would we be allowed in if he thought we were criminals?”

“That’s a great question! The quick answer is interplanetary political pressure. If you specify your criminal-type, I can give you more details.”

“I’m not a criminal!” I clench Leila’s meatball so hard it cracks. I force myself to breathe. “Look, I just want to get to my sister. Is she at the Welcome Center? What’s the point of making us walk there?”

“That’s a great question! Processing.”

An armored hovercraft appears over the next rise. Relief floods me when I see a human through the windshield.

“This road is an evaluation zone for individuals seeking asylum.”

My jaw drops. “Evaluation zone? But I’ve already been granted asylum.”

The hovercraft arrives. The officer’s voice projects through an exterior speaker. “Gaia Mayjani, you are under arrest for failure to report. Please kneel.”

“I didn’t—"

“Suspect resisting arrest.” A gun emerges from the bottom of the craft.

“I’m not! Look, I just want to get to my sister. Do you—"

“Kneel and raise your hands, or we’ll be forced to take corrective action.” Her hand moves on her control panel. The gun swivels toward me.

I kneel. “Please! My sister’s name is Leila. Have you—"

The AI chirps from above my head, “Great news, I have information on Leila Mayjani!  She was caught smuggling an alien into Newmerica.”

I go cold. “Smuggl—you mean her fetus?”

“She resisted arrest and was killed. Did I answer your question to your satisfaction?”

The world turns white, then red.

“Empty your hands,” the officer demands.

I drop the tablet but cannot drop the meatball. I feel sick. This is the Land of Empowerment. Our fresh start. Leila is dead?

“Empty both hands. Now.”

“It said my sister was killed. Can’t you—"

“Now.”

 The gun glows. I meet the officer’s cold eyes.

I throw the meatball at her.