Child

The End

Your headache gets worse.

The other primateoids stare at you. Their Mama clicks her massive tongue: long, short, long, short. C. She does four shorts. H. You figure out what she saying at this point. Two shorts. Short, long, short, short for L. And then D, long, short, short.

"Mama." you breath.

Mama knows Morse code and she shares your alien powers. She made the ants tell you home is near. All your life, you've thought you were a strange human nobody could ever really love. But you weren't a human at all. You were the larvae stage of a space alien race. That's why you can bend sound. Why you don't have any hair. Why you could never relate to your human peers. Your knees buckle. "Mama."

You cry. "Siblings." They nod. You stand up. Try to wipe your eyes, but you're wearing a space helmet. "I have to go back." you tell them. "I'll be with you soon."

You run down the space ramp and into the General's office, ripping off your helmet as you go. You have nothing left to lose. Everyone is gone. It's just you, your alien family, a horrible war and a drunk drag queen in a hotel. When you think about it, it's actually quite a lot. You burst into the office, panting. The General points her gun at you.

"Go ahead, shoot me." you say, "I am the enemy in this war. I'm an alien. That alien is my Mama. I am her Child. You want to kill her, you can kill me too."

"Wait, let me get this straight. You, Child Vein, are an alien?"

"Well, duh-doy. Don't I seem like an alien to you? I'm surprised I didn't notice it before." The General puts her gun down and stands up. She looks dazed and overwhelmed. You wait for her to think about what you've said.

"And she doesn't want to hurt anyone." you tell her. "She only wants to save me."

"Save you? That's what all of this has been for?"

"Apparently."

"Go." she says.

"What?"

"Go see your mother. I'll end this war."

"Really?"

"Of course."

You walk out of her office. Nothing feels real. But how could it? You run up the ramp, weightless before you even reach literal weightlessness. Then you do and it's strange. You never needed a spacesuit in the first place.

It makes sense in its own strange way. You start as a human, but that's not even half of what you get to be. One day, you'll be as big and wise as Mama. You've never felt so much like you have time. You have time to develop your powers. You have time to discover who you are. You have time to think about what happened to your friends. And a life spent in recovery is not a life wasted.

You think to go and say goodbye. But who would you say goodbye to? They're all gone. But this isn't an end. It's only a beginning.