The more Cara thought about it, the more she realized the scholarship wasn’t the real prize here. This exchange could launch her career into the stratosphere. When she looked at it that way, putting up with a creepy houseguest was totally worth it.
“Buck up, Miss Sweeney.” Colonel Rutter’s firm voice brought her to attention, and she jerked upright like a soldier. He stood tall and lean behind the principal’s desk, narrowing his shrewd gray eyes as he spoke. “You look shell-shocked, and you should be. This program’s not for namby-pambies. I’m gonna lay it all out, and if you can’t handle this, you’d better say so. Understood?”
“Uh, yes.”
He glanced at his shoulder and smoothed a derelict wrinkle into submission before sitting down. This man didn’t take any crap, not even from his clothes. “The World Trade Organization chose me to head the LEAP: the L’eihr Exchange Ambassador Program. America, France, and China will each get a student ambassador. The goal is to help humans and L’eihrs understand each other better. Now let’s be frank. We want an alliance with L’eihr.”
Cara nodded. Unlike most of her classmates, she made it her business to know what went on in the world beyond the school’s graffiti-stained walls.
“Our polls show Americans don’t support it. Too many suspicions. But the LEAP’s gonna change all that.”
“Seriously? How?”
“Aelyx will be your shadow. Where you go, he goes. Do you work?”
“I waitress on the weeken—”
“Quit.”
She cleared her throat. “Just quit?”
“The LEAP pays a small stipend, so consider it your job. Full time. You’ll represent the whole country, so you gotta go all in.” He leaned forward and raised his brows as if expecting a reply.
“Understood.” That seemed fair. The higher the reward, the greater the responsibility. She’d rock this exchange like a hurricane. Besides, she wouldn’t exactly miss slinging foot-longs at the Dreamy Weenie. “I’ll give my two weeks’ notice after school.”
“Make it one week.” Then he added, “Every other Wednesday, a camera crew will come to your house to tape interviews. They’ll air Fridays at nineteen hundred hours.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Televised interviews? Cara wiped her palms on her skirt again, rethinking a career at the Dreamy Weenie. “We’ll be on TV?”
“You asked how we’re gonna ease suspicions. This is how. By bringing a harmless L’eihr into everyone’s living rooms. People fear what they don’t understand, so they’re gonna get to know Aelyx. More importantly, they’ll see you”—he pointed an index finger at her nose, just like the old Uncle Sam poster—“at ease beside Aelyx, showing the world there’s nothing to fear.”
“But—”
“Now back to your responsibilities. You need to help Aelyx collect water and soil samples. Their scientists want to analyze contaminants. And I’ll expect you in Manhattan for the LEAP gala in three weeks.”
“An excused absence, so don’t worry.” Principal Ferguson breezed back into the room, oblivious to the fact that Cara’s pulse was pounding at the base of her throat. Probably because he wasn’t the one going on camera in front of eleventy billion people. He handed her a stack of papers still warm from the copier. “Here’s the contract and the scholarship details. Read this over with your folks tonight, then sign it and bring it back in the morning.”
Colonel Rutter thrust a business card at her chest. “Call if you have any questions. See you in three weeks.” Then he stood, turned on his heel, and left the room before she could ask if skipping the interviews was a deal breaker.
This was happening so fast. She could barely catch her breath. Less than five minutes ago, her greatest dilemma had been which movie to see Saturday night with her boyfriend, Eric, and now . . .
Oh, no! Eric! She’d forgotten all about him. He and his friends hated L’eihrs—not just a pinch of ignorance and a dash of mistrust, but serious loathing. He’d go full-on banana sandwich when she told him.
“You look a little overwhelmed.” Principal Ferguson sat on the edge of his desk, smiling down at her with such tenderness it made her heart pinch. “But I know you’ll do great. I’m so proud of you.”
That nearly undid her. For some ass-backward reason, she could take any criticism, but kindness made her blubber like an infant. Digging a fingernail into her thigh to keep from crying, she whispered, “Thanks.”
“And this gives you a chance to thank the L’eihrs for what they’ve done.” He tilted his head, delivering a pointed look that shamed her. “I hope you don’t take that gift for granted.”
With flaming cheeks, Cara stared into her lap and brushed her thumb over the frayed hem of her jean skirt. The fact that she questioned this opportunity just proved she was the most unappreciative jerk on the planet. Her whole family owed an enormous debt to the scientists of L’eihr. Two years ago, as a gesture of goodwill, they introduced humans to the asheem—a potent medicinal root native to their planet, which could isolate and kill cancer cells. It had come just in time to save Mom’s life.
Standing, she summoned all her courage and extended her palm to shake the principal’s hand. It was time to woman up. This wasn’t the end of the world.
“This feels like the end of the world,” Syrine said, pressing her fingertips delicately against the spaceport window as if trying to capture the distant, backlit planet glowing in the darkness.
Aelyx glanced over the top of her head at Mother L’eihr. He’d never traveled off-terrain before, and he couldn’t deny the pang of longing that settled beneath his breastbone when he viewed their home from five hundred miles above the ground. Why the Elders had chosen to send them away—and to a primitive, foul planet such as Earth—was beyond him. Perhaps his leaders really had gone soft in the mind, as many of the other clones suspected.
“I wish they’d reconsider,” Eron whispered, glancing over his shoulder to ensure the ambassador hadn’t returned. “This alliance is madness.”
“Which is exactly why we need to go,” Aelyx told his friends. Unwilling to risk speaking aloud any longer, he locked eyes with Eron. Did you bring the sh’alear?
I sewed it into my tunic lining with a sprig of nilweed, Eron assured him. Just like you said. And I helped Syrine do the same. The canines at Earth’s customs checkpoint won’t smell a thing.
Good. Aelyx leaned against the cool metal wall, trying to look innocent. Just make sure you don’t launder your tunic while we’re aboard the ship.
Eron laughed. Like I’m that deficient. You’re the one who left a ration of l’ina under his bunk for a week.
A grin curved Aelyx’s mouth. Gods, that was awful. I’ll never forget the stench.
None of us will.
“Stepha’s coming,” Syrine warned them. “Guard your thoughts.”
Ignoring the urge to flinch and whirl around, Aelyx leisurely turned to face the ambassador, who crossed the steely corridor with exaggerated, slow steps.
Stepha smiled at them, but it didn’t reach his eyes, dulled by the malaise that plagued all the Elders. His ancient form stooped under the weight of lethargy, his words slow and deliberate when he droned, “I’ve had your luggage delivered to the main transport. Did you bring your student visas?”