As she pried open her eyes, she immediately realized how blurry the world around her was.

“Hey! Welcome!” came a small but warm voice.

“You’re probably still pretty foggy, huh? Do you remember who you are?” the voice asked.

“R- Riven Ryxling,” she stuttered, distracted by her surroundings which had almost come into complete focus. She was in a small and very fluorescently lit room that reminded her a lot of the hospital she had once spent the night in after getting her appendix out.

“Good,” said a different, deeper, but oddly hollow voice. “Now, do you have any idea where you are?”

“Hospital?” was the only word she could manage.

“Yeah, I figured you would say that,” the small voice chuckled. “They always do, don’t they?”

“Wha-? Who? Who are you? Where are you? I want to go home,” she whined, feeling more uneasy with every passing second.

As her vision was coming into focus, she glanced around what she had thought was a hospital room and noticed an abundance of items, seemingly medical technology, that she had never seen before. Where there should have been a blood pressure monitor, there was some weird metal stick, and instead of a scale, there was this strange, green spherical hologram that reflected off of the chrome walls. In fact, she had never seen anything that was in the room before.

“Where am I?!” she panicked.

In the adjacent room, behind a two-way mirror, a figure turned off the microphone, looked to its boss, and asked, “Can’t we just tell her?”

“No,” came the reply. “She is far too delicate. Look at her eyes — the pupils spell fear. You saw what happened to the last one we rushed the assimilation process with.”

“Hello?!” Riven said frantically. “Where did you go? Am I losing my mind?”

The microphone came back on. “No, Ms. Ryxling,” the smaller voice comforted, looking to its’ superior for some direction, before turning the microphone off once more.

“Why is this always so hard? It’s as if she is about to mourn the loss of a dear friend.”

“You can’t hold me hostage! My boyfriend will look for me. He’ll call the police! Just let me go, and I’ll never tell anyone anything, I promise,” Riven tried to rationalize with her captors.

The microphone was turned on again, and the deep voice laughed, “Hostage? Oh, no. No, no, no.”

“Riven Ryxling, from planet 34417, more commonly known as Earth, of the galaxy 382b6, we saved you. After the sanitization process is complete, you will be free to leave this laboratory and never return unless you feel the need,” the small voice said.

Riven didn’t understand. Of course she was from Earth — we all are.

“Where am I?” she demanded once again.

“In due time…” the deeper voice trailed off.

This process — asking questions and receiving only vague replies — continued for hours, until she grew tired. I’m never getting out of here, she lamented.

At the exact moment Riven had given up all hope, the stainless steel door opposite her bed slid open, and into the wall. She couldn’t see anything outside the door, because a large figure, unlike anything she had ever seen before, walked through the doorway, pushed a button, and the door closed once more.

Her — his? its? — skin was laurel green. Its eyes were enormous – huge, black almonds residing on a bald head that jutted outward, as if it were encasing a watermelon. Riven was at a loss for words. She simply couldn’t fathom what was standing before her.

“Hello, Ms. Ryxling.”

“Who? What? What are you?” she could hardly form a sentence.

“I am, well… an alien, as your people would call us. Doesn’t make much sense to me. By your logic, everyone in this universe is an alien — even you.”

“Wha?- there are more of you?!”

It laughed, “Oh, yes. Many, many more. As many grains of sand as there are on your Earth, maybe even more.” The alien smiled, and Riven noticed how beautiful it really was. Its skin sparkled like dew on the morning grass, and the eyes that had initially seemed empty, now looked full of compassion. Its’ cheekbones were perfectly sculpted. Truly, the alien would have made a very gorgeous human. Riven had considered asking if the alien was a man or woman, but settled on asking its’ name, finding it more polite.

“My name is Dinivian,” it paused, and let out a small laugh, “and I don’t have a gender, not in a sense that you would understand, anyway.”

“How did you -”

“It’s one of the first things humans seem to ask. I don’t get it. I mean, if I woke up in a strange place, I think I’d ask where I was,” Dinivian giggled.

“Where am I!?” Riven asked, coming to her senses.

“You are on Arcturus. We’re actually really close to your home. Only about thirty-seven light years from here to Earth.”

Thirty-seven light years was far from Riven’s idea of close. She wasn’t sure quite how far, but she knew that light traveled very fast, and there was no way that she was really ‘close’ to home.

“Arch-tur-ee-us,” she began slowly.

“No, no. Arc-tur-us. Shares its namesake with our star. You almost said the name of our people, though! We’re the Arcturians. And,” it paused, rolled its eyes, and continued “like I said, we don’t have gender. I know. I know. Shocking.”

Riven had learned about asexual organisms during middle school, but those were always microscopic. Her mind was swimming through a deep pool of confusion, and she couldn’t find the ladder to escape, no matter how hard or far she swam. How could an entire society be without gender?

“How do you -” Riven didn’t want to finish her question, finding it impolite.

Dinivian laughed, “Mate?”

Riven’s cheeks flushed red, and she ran a hand through her mousy brown hair. She was sitting here. Hundreds of thousands of miles away from Earth. Talking to an alien. About sex.

“It’s all really scientific. I think in English you call it a ‘test cube,’ or something like that.”

“Test tube?” Riven offered.

“Yeah, that’s it!” Dinivian smiled.

“So, you’re… it? Or just… she? Or? Uh…”

“Zhe,” Dinivian corrected. “There’s no translation. Here, it’ll be easier if I just show you.”

Zhe turned around, and grabbed a piece of paper and something that, once Dinivian began writing with it, Riven realized was a pen. Zhe drew out a chart, and explained the basics of Arcturian personal pronouns.

he/she him/her his/hers him/herself zhe (zay) zher (zer) zhers (zers) zhimself (zim-self)

Riven tried her hand at the pronunciation of the Arcturian language, “So, it’s zhe, zher, zhers, and zhimself?”

“Exactly!” Dinivian beamed.

Two years ago, when Riven was in college, her favorite classes were French and German. She loved the thought of conversing with people from around the world, and wanted nothing more from life than to escape the United States. She never would have guessed, though, that not too far down the line, she would be learning bits and pieces of an alien language. Suddenly, a thought struck Riven.

“You speak English fluently; I can’t even tell that you’re not a natural speaker.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, that’s because of this,” Dinivian laughed, pointing to zhers elf-like ear. Riven hadn’t noticed it before, but what looked like a small computer chip was mounted just behind Dinivian’s ear.

Riven shot a confused look at zher, not understanding why zhe had a chip implanted on zhers skull.

“Oh, I always forget you don’t have them on Earth. Benefits of being in the Federation, huh? Well anyway, it’s basically a universal translator. I can understand any known language in the universe, and anything I say will be translated into whatever language is being spoken around me,” Dinivian smiled.

Riven had too many questions to ask, so she settled on what seemed like the simplest, “Why am I here?”

“You know, I’ve worked with humans my whole life, and your sense of curiosity always astonishes me,” Dinivian remarked. “You’ll find out soon enough. I wish I could tell you more, I really do.”

Riven sighed. It seemed as if she would never truly know how she got here, or why they had abducted her, but she was very tired, and the weight of her eyelids were beckoning sleep.

“Can I go to sleep?” she asked defeatedly.

“Oh, yes! That’s the best thing you can do right now, Ms. Ryxling. Cognitive dissonance is quite hard on the brain.”

As Riven drifted off to sleep, she dreamed unlike she had ever before. She was actually quite sure she had stopped dreaming years ago. Maybe it was from being on a new planet, or in a different galaxy, or maybe it was just from the insanity of the last couple of hours, but for the first time in as long as she could remember, she was dreaming. The world around her was saturated with indescribable colors — color she had never seen before. Everything was so clear; it didn’t feel like a dream. She was zooming through time and space. Every flicker of light was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and every subsequent one was even more astounding. It was as if she was witnessing every miniscule moment that had shaped history, all at once. And then, suddenly, she woke up.

None of that happened, she thought, keeping her eyes firmly shut. It was all just a dream. Aliens don’t exist. I’m lying in my own bed, and I’m going to open my eyes, and there will be that god-awful Stucco ceiling of my shitty apartment that I pay way too much for.

What greeted her when she opened her eyes, however, made her heart drop down into the pit of her stomach: a shiny metal celing, reflecting the green glow of the hologram thingy in the corner.

“FUCK!” she shouted in frustration.

Moments after, the door opened once more. This time, it wasn’t Dinivian. A larger Arcturian walked in. Though zhe looked quite similar to the alien Riven had met previously, zhe was also very different. Zhers eyes felt cold, as though they were piercing through Riven’s every thought. Zhers skin didn’t sparkle like Dinivian’s; it was rough and calloused in many spots. Nonetheless, she felt comforted to be around it. Zhe felt almost like a father.

“Ah. Welcome back. Did you sleep well?”

Riven recognized the voice as the deep one that she had heard earlier. “Yeah, it was extraordinary. I’ve never had such a dream. I was flying! The colors, oh God, it was so beautiful. I wish I could go back to sleep,” she said, starting to feel much more at ease.

Before Riven had even had a chance to acknowledge the question in her brain, the alien answered, “I’m Dr. Ninav, head of the Department of Human Studies at the Intergalactic College.”

“Human studies? Are you -” she paused. “Are you studying me?”

“Oh, no,” zhe laughed. “The name is a bit of a misnomer anymore. We thought of renaming it the ‘Department of Human Liberation,’ but that seems a bit too radical, don’t you think?”

Riven’s mind, once clear from her slumber, was again trapped in a fog. “Earlier, you said you ‘saved’ me, and now you’re talking about liberation. What does that mean?”

Dr. Ninav sighed, but didn’t speak a word.

“Please? Why am I here?”

Zhe looked back at her, zhers enormous, black eyes locking with Riven’s tiny green ones, and instantaneously, she felt at peace.

Time seemed to stand still in her room. It felt like months, maybe even years had passed. Riven spent much of her free time sleeping.

“You can go now,” Dr. Ninav told her after one of her naps.

“Go? Where?” Riven asked, not understanding what zhe meant. “Back home?”

Ninav’s thin mouth pressed into a straight line. “No, Ms. Ryxling. That’s not really possible.”

Riven couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She couldn’t go home. She would never see her friends or family again. She’d never see Aaron again, and she loved Aaron. They’d been together since their freshman year of college. He wasn’t perfect, but he made her happy, and that was all that really mattered.

Before Riven could voice her protestations to the situation, Dinivian walked into the room, beaming from ear to ear, which seemed to take all of her worries completely from her mind.

“Ready to go?” Dinivian asked.

“Go where?!” Riven snapped back.

“Just follow me,” zhe said with a wink.

For the umpteenth time since she had been on Arcturus, and Riven didn’t understand why, she felt like she could trust Dinivian. Maybe it was the way the alien smiled at her, or zhers impeccable beauty, but Riven couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that Dinivian was simply good.

She couldn’t hide the smile on her face as she walked out of the small, 9’x9’ chamber she had been confined to. According to Dr. Ninav and Dinivian, it had only been two days, but it had felt like months to Riven.

Dinivian led her down a long hall that, much like her room, was made of shiny metal. Every ten feet or so was a pair of metal doors, one seemingly leading to the sanitization chambers, and one to the rooms that the doctors sat in. Riven knew she wasn’t the only Homo sapien in this building.

At the end of the hallway, she spotted a double door.

“Here we are!” Dinivian said with a smile. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?!” she retorted, quickly growing tired of the teasing questions.

Dinivian flashed that gorgeous grin once more, exclaiming, “your new life!” before opening the door.

What Riven saw when those shiny metal doors split apart was something unlike anything she could have ever imagined. She was in a city, but it was the very antithesis of a city on Earth. The sky was purple, and the sun was blood orange. She could also see three different, what she guessed were moons, above her. One of them looked quite like the sun, Arcturus — a giant, orange ball; one was bubblegum pink and had rings around it, much like Saturn; and the final one, looked desolate and bleak, and reminded her of Earth’s moon.

The buildings in the city stretched so high that Riven couldn’t see the tops of them, and their architecture was truly captivating. The traditional, rectangular skyscraper of humanity was replaced by nothing short of art. There were buildings that curved to the left or right, seemingly defying gravity; translucent spheres containing floors upon floors of what looked like office space; and skinny pyramids with acres of leisure area, where hundreds, maybe even thousands, of aliens were relaxing.

It was impossible to count the number of different types she saw. There were short, bald, grey-skinned aliens; tall ones that looked like Dinivian, but with flowing blonde hair; and aliens that looked like reptiles. She even saw humans scurrying about. She couldn’t believe how harmoniously the society seemed to work; so many different species and cultures co-existing.

Dinivian saw the look of amazement on Riven’s face and beamed, “Pretty cool, huh?”

“This is amazing,” Riven breathed.

“This, my friend, is Arcturtanis, a sub-city of Arcturus. The whole planet is one huge city, divided into smaller regions, and Arcturtanis is called the ‘Universal District.’ I’m sure you can see why,” Dinivian said.

“Who are they all?”

“So you’ve got the Pleiadians. They’re the ones that look like Arcturians, except they have blonde hair on their heads. We’re closely related. I’d bet you can guess who the Reptilians are?” Riven nodded, and Dinivian continued. “Then you’ve got the short and the tall Greys. They’re similar, but the short ones can be pretty nasty. Totally devoid of emotion. That’s why the tall ones came into existence – they’re hybrids. Part Grey, part something else – usually human or Pleiadian.”

At every nationality, Riven nodded her head, trying to show she was following, even though she really wasn’t.

“Then you’ve got the Atlanteans. They’re originally from Earth, you know? Left quite a while ago because of war; they just decided to up and leave rather than fight. Over there,” zhe pointed to a group of short, green-skinned aliens, “are some descendants of the last Martians. Don’t mention your cartoons to them unless you want to upset them. Those tall, blue aliens to the left are Sirians, from Sirius. They’re very good merchants, so be careful you’re not getting scammed if you buy anything from them. They could sell a spaceship to a spaceship salesman,” Dinivian laughed.

“So, are they all…” she began, not knowing how to word her question. “I guess, are all aliens asexual?”

“Oh no, it’s just a choice Arcturians make. Everyone else has genders. The Sirians actually have three genders. One makes eggs, one makes sperm, and one has the womb.”

Riven couldn’t believe how many different types of aliens there were. A few days ago, she hadn’t known that aliens existed at all, let alone such a huge population of completely different species.

She had been so caught up in the people around her that, until she had heard sounds coming from below her, Riven hadn’t realized she wasn’t standing on the ground. When she looked down, she realized she was on one of many levels of walkways that connected the buildings of the city, almost like roads. But further below, past another six levels of paths, was what really caught her eye. At the very bottom of the city sat pure, untouched nature.

“Can we go down there?” Riven asked. After two days of confinement, she missed the smell of grass and the feeling of wind blowing through her hair. As a kid, she had spent the majority of her time outside. Her love of nature was something unfounded by possibly only the Romantic poets.

“Uh…” Dinivian trailed off. “No. No, we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s against the law,” zhe stated.

“But why?” Riven couldn’t understand how being with nature could be illegal. The forest below her was beautiful. The soil — or grass, maybe, she couldn’t tell — was navy blue, and the trees were giant, red mushrooms, almost like that which you would see in a video game. She was quite certain that, although it was much too far to see, there were also animals frolicking in the woods below her.

“About two million years ago, the Terrans – ancestors of us Arcturians — destroyed Terra. That was our original home. Climate change, mass extinction, and the like. They didn’t do anything to stop it. They thought they could get by just fine without nature, but they were wrong. The entire population was almost decimated. Wild fires ravaged the planet, and food was scarce. So, they moved. The government built a huge spaceship, and all five thousand Terrans left alive boarded the ship, and set out to find a new home.

“When they found Arcturus, they knew it was perfect. Not only was it in the relative center of the universe, making it an ideal trading hub, it was also a fully developed, self-sustaining ecological system that lacked only an intelligent species. So, they settled down, and the Terrans became the Arcturians. But before they began to build society up once more, they had to make sure that no one would ever let what happened to Terra, happen to Arcturus. If they were settling, they wanted it to be permanent.

“City planners from across the universe were brought in. While the citizens stayed aboard the ship, decades of debates about how to preserve nature occurred. Finally, it was agreed that the city should be built above the planet, so that no one would disturb nature, and the planet could keep on doing its own thing.”

“That’s incredible,” Riven exhaled in disbelief. “If only humans had such respect for nature.”

“And you do,” zhe said. “That’s why you’re here, Riven.”

“No more of that ‘Ms. Ryxling’ stuff now that we’re away from the doctor now, huh?” she winked.

Dinivian smiled coyly, “No, I guess not.”

Zhe spent hours showing Riven around the city, and explaining what the different buildings were, and how things in their society functioned.

“That’s the Civic building. The Federation of Intergalactic Nations lives there,” zhe said, pointing to a building made of many spheres, decorated with cathedral-like spires along the top.

“How many nations are there in the universe?” Riven wondered aloud.

“There are twenty-two members right now,” Dinivian answered. “But there’s something like three- or four-thousand in consideration for membership. There’s not really an accurate way to count, you know?”

“No?” Riven asked, unsure. “Why can’t you just count?”

“Count them?” Dinivian gave zhers biggest laugh yet. “No, it’s not really such a simple process. I mean, sure, we can ‘count’ the number of societies in the universe, but joining the Federation has all these stipulations and requirements. For example, before an invitation of membership, the society has to reach the capability of intergalactic travel.”

“So, how does the Federation know when a civilization is advanced enough?

“Well,” zhe said with a pause. “I mean, they watch. Everything.”

“That’s not creepy at all,” Riven said with disgust. The whole reason she had disliked the United States was because of its blatant disregard for privacy.

“You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for that, you know,” zhe seemed to be getting angry. “You’d still be on Earth!”

Riven’s face felt hot, and she could feel a tear in her left eye.

“I don’t even want to be here!” she shouted, finally letting loose all of the emotions she had so neatly kept in a bottle since waking up in that horrid, cramped room. “I want to go home. I didn’t ask to come here!”

“Come,” was all zhe said, but Riven could tell from zhers voice, that she had hurt Dinivian, and that hurt her.

Zhe led Riven along what seemed like miles of walkways; through six different buildings and down too many staircases to count, all the while, never speaking a word. Before she knew it, they were on the bottom-most walkway of the city, which was transparent, allowing her to almost be with nature. It wasn’t the same, but it was close enough.

Riven looked up, and noticed how different the city looked from that angle. It didn’t look quite as beautiful as it had earlier. It felt cold and empty, despite the herds of aliens she could see. As Riven opened her mouth to speak, Dinivian raised a finger to zhers, then grabbed Riven’s hand.

As soon as they touched, Riven’s world stopped. Where their hands met, electricity felt as if it was through Riven. It was the most wonderful things she had ever felt; she never wanted to let go. Images began rushing through her mind at hyper-speed. Two children, playing at a park. The brown-haired girl pushing the blonde boy on a swing. The blonde boy chasing the brown haired girl in a field. The blonde boy saying he would see her tomorrow, and never returning.

Just as quickly as the pictures and sensation had started, they ceased, when Dinivian took zhers hand away.

“Do you understand?” zhe asked.

“That was you?” Riven gasped. “You were my best friend for almost a year. Where did you go?”

“Home. I couldn’t stay. It was just part of the job,” zhe sighed.

“I don’t understand. You were human.”

Dinivian laughed, “No, I’ve always been Arcturian.” Zhe pressed a button on zhers belt, and morphed into the blonde boy from Riven’s childhood. Almost at once, zhe clicked it again, and changed back into zhers beautiful, green self.

“The Department for Human Studies works very closely with the Federation, and has one goal: liberation. Since 1932, we have been observing your Earth. Twenty years ago, we realized the time for intervention had come. We began selecting those we saw fit for the next stage. Your Earth is dying. Your species is dying. But you,” zhe paused, “are not dying.”

Riven sat down, trying to comprehend what she had just heard.

“You know how I said there were thousands of civilizations awaiting membership to the Federation?”

“Yeah,” Riven replied.

“Well, there’s a reason Earth and humanity aren’t a part of it, right? I mean, your government met one of the Pleiadians in the 1940s when those drunk idiots crashed their vehicle on Earth.”

“Wait,” Riven interrupted. “You’re saying that Roswell was an honest to God UFO?”

“Ugh,” zhe shuddered. “I hate human terminology. But yeah, it was. Anyway, some drunk Pleiadian decided it’d be a smart idea to take a tour of Earth, and crashed outside of Roswell, New Mexico. We figured it would be a matter of months before the truth was revealed. But your government wasn’t honest. They covered it up with a pathetic lie. We didn’t understand why.

“Usually, or at least up to that point, when a civilization discovers that they aren’t alone in the universe, they celebrate. Their government tells its’ citizens, and steps are made to make a name in the universal community. But this time, it was different.

“So, we had to ask ourselves why? What motivation did the humans in control have for keeping their people in the dark? You see, an honest and transparent government is one of the key facets of membership to the Federation of Intergalactic Nations.

“No one could piece it together. Years and years passed. Some argued that humanity should be let in regardless — your rate of technological advancement was astronomical compared to what was typical. But many, Dr. Ninav included, believed that there was something sinister going on behind the scenes.”

Dinivian paused, almost as if zhe knew that Riven needed a moment to digest. The last few days had been filled with so much information that contradicted what she knew, it was becoming difficult to differentiate between reality and the imaginary.

“And? Was there?” Riven asked after a few seconds, breaking the silence.

“Uranium is one of the most valuable elements in this universe. It’s very hard to find, other than on Earth, but just a little bit – just one, tiny speck — is needed to get from here to the other side of the universe. It’s immensely powerful, and,” zhe sighed, “extremely dangerous, as humanity would find out after the invention of the atomic bomb in 1932.”

Riven had followed nearly every last bit of information that had been thrown at her recently, but she could not, for the life of her, figure out what the atomic bomb had to do with any of this.

“When the atomic bombs were tested and then subsequently dropped on Japan, we were watching. We knew there would be death. We had seen war before, but never like this. Never at this scale. Hundreds of thousands of your own people were killed by your own people. Do you see what I’m saying?” zhe took a deep breath before continuing, “Humans are a danger to humanity in and of itself.”

Riven didn’t understand why Dinivian was so upset. This was common knowledge, and it had happened so long ago, did it really matter anymore?

“Don’t you get it, Riven?” zhe begged.

Riven shook her head from side to side quickly, making her brown hair slap her shoulders.

“The universe, as a whole, is scared of humanity. Your people are blood-thirsty. No planet has ever seen the amount of violence yours has. Not only do you slaughter your own people, you have no respect for nature, much like the Terrans of old.”

“That isn’t me,” Riven said defiantly.

“And that’s why you are here! The people that we select, the people that we bring here are those that meet the ideals of the Intergalactic Federation. No society is perfect, but we seek to rescue those trapped by their own people. That’s why there are some Greys here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the Greys aren’t really nice. As a whole, they’re feared just as much as humanity. They’re ruthless. They’re the ones that humans envision when they think ‘alien.’ They possess extraordinarily powerful psychic powers that they use for evil. Mind control, and the such.

“At some point in time after the atom bomb, the Greys realized the immense warmongering powers humanity possessed, and decided to make contact. They made a deal with the government of the United States of America. The Greys would be allowed a set number of abductions each year, which the government would deny, in exchange for technology. And thus, the rapid technological advancement of post-1940 Earth began.”

“How do you know this?” Riven asked.

“We don’t. Not definitely, anyway. No one really knows what the Greys are up to, we can only guess. What we do know, is that some alien species made contact with humanity. It’s against the bylaws of the Federation to interfere with a developing society, so we know it wasn’t one of the members. Plus, the Federation of Intergalactic Nations was formed in part to combat the Greys. That’s why it’s located here on Arcturus.”

“What do you mean?” Riven asked.

“Well, Arcturians have the most developed psychic powers in the Universe. It’s called zhyseil. So, it’s only natural that we can more successfully block interference from the Greys where there is a large number of us,” Dinivian commented, as if it was the most obvious thing.

“I didn’t know you had psychic powers,” Riven commented.

“Oh, come on. You did too!” Dinivian teased. “How do you think we kept you so calm?”

Suddenly, as if a light clicked on in her brain, Riven’s own behavior made sense.

“You’ve been mind controlling me!” she shouted.

Dinivian sighed, “Mind control and zhyseil are not the same thing.”

“Entering my mind, and controlling my emotions sounds a lot like mind control to me,” she coldly.

“Zhyseil is not mind control, Riven. If one is not receptive, it won’t work. But you were receptive — you chose to accept the state of calm we inflicted upon you. If we hadn’t used zhyseil, you would still be in the lab, but in the mental ward instead of sanitization. The sanitization process only takes two days, but usually, humans especially, take much longer, because they feel as if they are literally losing their minds. Your people have great difficulty with information that contradicts what you think you know. So, you were a test subject, of sorts, to see if zhyseil would work, and it did! You’ve entered the Intergalactic world in record time!”

“You lied to me,” Riven said, raising her voice. “I thought I could trust you!”

“It wasn’t my idea…” Dinivian trailed off.

Riven wanted to believe zher, she really did, but the one person who had been a guiding light for her, had been a ruse. She didn’t know if she could trust her feelings about Dinivian. Did she really like zher, or had that been implanted in her brain, too?

“I didn’t,” zhe said.

“You didn’t, what?” Riven snapped.

“I didn’t put anything into your brain. I just calmed you,” zhe sighed. “I haven’t done it since we’ve been on our own. I wouldn’t do it again, not now that I know you.”

The pain in Dinivian’s voice brought Riven back down. She calmed so quickly, she almost thought that zhe was using zhyseil again, but, as she remembered, when that happened, it was instantaneous; in this moment, she felt her anger slipping away slowly, ounce by ounce.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled quietly. Riven didn’t want to admit it, but she was sorry for losing her temper with Dinivian, when zhe had only been honest with her since they had left the laboratory. Dinivian had told her much more than zhe was at license to, at zhers own personal risk. “I know it wasn’t your choice. You wouldn’t do that. I know you.”

At that comment, the smile which she had grown so fond of returned to Dinivian’s face. “Come on, I have to take you home now,” zhe said.

“To Earth?” she asked, disheartened.

Hours ago, returning to Earth was all that Riven could have dreamed of. She would have loved to kiss Aaron and tell him of all the wondrous things she had seen in space. But she had changed. Nothing was as it used to be. Aaron seemed so irrelevant — a speck of dust in the wind. She couldn’t possibly imagine returning to the mundanity of humanity, not when there was an entire universe full of possibility… A universe with Dinivian. Above all else, she couldn’t imagine being one of the only people on Earth who knew the truth. If she spoke out, she would be labelled as crazy by the propaganda machine, because only crazy people think aliens exist. And if she kept quiet, she might actually go crazy.

“I think I’d rather stay here,” Riven remarked suddenly.

“No, not to Earth,” Dinivian grinned. “I’ll take you to the dorms. It’s just a temporary thing, until you find your own place.”

They walked quietly, side by side, up the many staircases, Riven sneaking glances at Dinivian every five hundred feet or so. Eventually, they came face to face with what had to be the tallest, but most boring-looking building in Arcturtanis. It was the only building she had seen so far that resembled anything on Earth. A square base and walls that stretched straight up, with windows placed uniformly on each level.

“Well, this is it. This is your new home, at least for now,” Dinivian said, smiling.

“Thank you,” she sighed.

“What’s wrong? I know it’s not the prettiest building, but you won’t be there long.”

“This is it, isn’t it? This is goodbye. You finished your job!” she said, her anger returning. “I’m assimilated, and now it’s on to the next one.”

For the first time since they had met, Dinivian actually frowned. It wasn’t a look that fit zher at all.

“I’m sorry,” Riven said, immediately regretting what she had said.

“No, it’s okay. You’re right,” zhe sighed. “Or at least, you’re supposed to be right.”

In an instant, Dinivian walked towards Riven, and threw zhers arms around her. The touch of zhers thin, alien lips on Riven’s human lips created electricity. Colors swirled past her closed eyes, and she felt like she was dreaming like she had on that first night she spent on Arcturus. She never wanted to let go of Dinivian.

“I’m sorry,” zhe said, backing away. “This isn’t right. I have to go.”

“It felt right,” Riven yelled after him. “It felt right, and you know it did.”

Dinivian stopped walking, and turned around, speaking rapidly, “I can’t. We haven’t in years. It’s against our ways. It clouds the mind. We have to stay clear. I can’t.”

“You asked me to question my people, my ways. You told me things I never would have imagined could be true. So why can’t you question your ways for me?”

Riven wanted nothing more than for Dinivian to embrace her again. She wanted to feel the electricity rushing through her veins. She wanted to see the colors again. She wanted to dream again.

“I…” zhe trailed off.

“Please,” Riven whined.

“I need time, Riven.”

“Two days!” she shouted. “Everything I knew changed in two days! Haven’t you thought about it?”

“Of course I’ve thought about it. All Arcturians have questioned their asexuality. But our brains don’t work right. It keeps us clear, receptive, and in-tune with the universe.”

“What if it’s a lie?” Riven asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Humans think aliens are all evil, but you showed me a whole new world,” she said. When Dinivian didn’t reply, she asked, “How does it work? You said I wouldn’t understand your gender. Try me.”

Dinivian showed a faint smile and said, “Arcturians are not inherently without gender. The difference between an Arcturian and a Pleiadian is in fact nothing more than the rejection of sex. Arcturians choose to cast aside their gender at age one hundred, and focus on improving their mind in some way. Pleiadians are Arcturians who keep gender. Their children can choose to become either or. An Arcturian child, however, must become Arcturian,” zhe sighed.

“Were you an Arcturian child?” Riven asked gently. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she could see tears forming in Dinivian’s huge, black eyes.

“I am an Arcturian child,” zhe said quietly. “That’s why I’m studying under Dr. Ninav. In two years, on my one-hundredth birthday, I’ll become a fully-fledged Arcturian.”

“And you don’t want to,” Riven guessed.

“There’s nothing I can do, Riven.”

“Fight it!” she shouted. “You can’t be the only one who feels like this. I’m sure there are others.”

“It doesn’t matter, Riven. Don’t you get it? There are bigger things, more important things to worry about.”

“Like what?!” Riven screamed. She didn’t understand why she was so upset. She had known Dinivian for only two days, but she felt more with zher than she had ever felt with Aaron, or any human. She felt whole.

“I’m in training to become head of the Department of Human Studies,” zhe said.

“Oh,” Riven said. Suddenly, everything made sense. The reason Dinivian knew so much about humans and the Greys, why zhe felt so guilty for thinking of abandoning the Arcturian way. The weight of the future of the Universe was in some way on zhers shoulders.

The two of them stood in the hallway of Riven’s dorm for quite some time, before Dinivian finally broke the silence and began, “What if…”

“What if, what?” Riven asked immediately.

“What if no one ever knew? And what if you’re right? I mean…” zhe trailed off.

“What?!” Riven exclaimed.

“It can’t really affect my brain that much, can it? The Pleiadians still have zhyseil, and they say that it’s just as powerful. Maybe Arcturians have been lying all these years. Maybe there’s no difference,” zhe rationalized.

“You’ll never know the truth if you don’t try,” Riven smiled.