I’m Not My Fathers Son

Hello. My name is Alaric. It’s an old name that means leader. I guess that my parents had high hopes for me.

I was always the weird kid. My siblings often made fun of me because I enjoyed things like broccoli, brussels sprouts, asparagus, mushrooms, spinach, and beets. They hated them. They loved mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, chicken nuggets, and chocolate. I hated them. They liked watching cartoons on days there were no school. I enjoyed watching things about scientific discoveries. They talked about me because I was smart. I got straight A’s in all my classes and they, well, they didn’t. The thing that pushed it over the edge, however, was the fact that I never got sick. When they had the flu, when they had chicken pocks, I had a scratchy throat for half a day. Amirah, my sister, would often ask my parents what planet they got me from.

My parents never kept it a secret that I was adopted. I never let it get me down. I was happy that somebody loved me enough to take on a baby that wasn’t their own. So many kids are never adopted. I’m sure you’ve seen those commercials asking people to adopt a teenager. Some of these people live their whole life not knowing the love of a family. So, I was happy that I was adopted as a baby. I never knew the pain of living in a group home. My parents always treated me like I was theirs. When they had their own children, I was expected to act like the big brother.

My real parents died in a car crash. It was always funny, that is funny strange, that my real parents and my adoptive parents had just met the day before. They told me that I was in the car but was found completely unharmed. My parents, that is my biological parents, had written a letter asking the only parents I ever knew to take care of me. An odd thing to ask for someone you’ve known for less than 24 hours.

The only problem I had was that I had no picture of my real parents. I should call them my biological parents. My REAL parents are the ones I’ve grown to know and love. Still, sometimes I wish I knew what they looked like. Did they have other children? It didn’t really make that much of a difference who it was that gave birth to me or who it was that got woman pregnant. The family that I grew up with was a loving and caring family. That is the family that I love. But still, sometimes I just wish that I knew.

My family never gave too much attention to birthdays. Instead of a happy birthday, it was just as important to wish somebody a happy Monday or a happy Wednesday. Every day that you live is as equally important as the one that follows and the one that came before. So you can understand why I was shocked to receive a package in the mail on my 16th birthday. It did not say who it was from. It simply said, “Happy 16th”.

“Wow”, said Amari, my brother. “Somebody got you a laptop. Who is it from?”

“I don’t know”, I said, “It says it’s from a relative.”

This was no regular laptop. This was top of the line. You couldn’t go to any store and pick one of these up. This was custom made. Brand new 1 terahertz processor. The graphic card boasted a whopping 100 Gigahertz. NASA didn’t have technology like this. Whoever sent me this must realize that I knew what to do with this much power.

“I got dibs on the first game.” Both my siblings said it at the same time.

“It’s my laptop and this is not being used for games. And even if I do put games one it, I got dibs on first play.”

The whole concept of no games being put on this fine of a computer bewildered them. But it wasn’t their choice. It was mine. When I turned it on and it booted for the first time, all I got was a bunch of jumbled characters I’ve never seen before.

“I knew it was too good to be true. This thing is busted. Seems like there is a virus in the BIOS.” More than likely, with a computer this advanced, it’s a UEFI. Again, they all looked at me like I was weird.

There was a card that came with the laptop. Besides saying that the laptop was from a relative, all it said was [SHIFT] + [CTRL] + [@]. I wasn’t going to try this out while my family was around. I told them that I knew how to fix it but it would take time. I promised to do it later.

So, as everybody went to bed, I turned the computer back on and got the same odd characters. I quickly pressed [SHIFT] + [CTRL] + [@]. Nothing happened except to short beeps. I tried again, this time holding the buttons down for 3 full seconds. The screen started to flash. It almost gave me a headache. When the screen stopped flashing, a message appeared in English.

Are You Alone?

I typed in yes.

The screen started to flash again. When it stopped, there was an old news article on the screen. It was talking about my parents’ car crash. According to this, they drove their car over a cliff while running from the police. The car exploded, completely incinerating the bodies. There was nothing to bury. It was a crash at all. My parents were criminals.

This only left me with more questions. I was the one bewildered this time. Why were they running from the cops? What did they do? Why did they leave me with people they just met? There were more questions but there is not enough space to lift them all.

Now, while I was trying to figure things out, a map was printed out from the printer. The message changed on the screen.

They’re Alive

This message was only on the screen for a few seconds. But those few seconds stuck in my mind the full night. I didn’t get a second of sleep. Even more questions entered my mind. Were they spies? Were they the good guys or the bad guys? How did they survive? Why did they leave me with people they just met?

In the morning, the computer booted normally. There was no evidence that any secret messages ever appeared. The only thing I had was a map. I got up early in the morning, about 6 AM, and followed the map. It led me to Elliott’s field. It was named after that boy who befriended the alien in that movie. Apparently, there were rumors of an alien spaceship landing here about 16 years ago.

There wasn’t much to Elliott’s field. A few park benches, A few picnic tables, and an old boarded up shack at the far end. Most people stayed away from the shack. Even the bravest of kids found it too dangerous to enter. The rumors of people going there never to be seen again were numerous. Many of the rumors were about people I knew personally. Like Tommy Higgins, Joe Monroe, Teddy Gibson. All three of them disappeared. All three of them said that they were going to the shack. It was believed that they went inside the shack. They never came out.

The police report stated that there was no evidence that anyone had entered the shack. No bodies were found. They dusted for fingerprints, none were found. Still, I was a bit hesitant when my phone rang with an unfamiliar voice telling me to go inside the shack if I wanted to know the truth about my parents.

It was early enough in the morning that no people were around. Old Man Johnson would normally try his best to scare anyone who even wanted to look at the shack. If he saw me getting close to it, he would give Mom and Dad a call. But he wouldn’t be there for another hour. Most kids didn’t like Old Man Johnson. He was the town snitch. I was not part of the team that egged his house last year. I know who they were, but I’ll never talk.

The shack was boarded up pretty tight. There seemed to be no way in. It made me believe that everyone who claimed they’d been inside was lying. I walked around to the back and saw that there was one loose plank leading down to the cellar. I never knew that it had a cellar. Pulling on the loose plank, the door opened. I slowly walked down the stairs into some type of lab. There had to be nearly 500 monitors on the walls with twice as many people watching them. The lady that seemed to be in charge approached me with a smile.

“Alaric Max”, she said. “We’ve been waiting for you for 16 years now. If you want to know the truth about your parents, about yourself, about the world you call home, follow me.”

I followed her down a long hallway. This cellar was much larger than the shack. It was even larger than Elliott’s field. She knocked on a closed door. When it opened, a young man and woman was standing in the room.

“Welcome, my son.”, the man said.

“We’ve been waiting for you.”, said the woman.

I was asked to sit down and watch a video. It was footage of my biological parent’s car going over the cliff. There was footage from the inside of the car as well. I watched as the incendiary device was set. I watched as they placed a baby in the back seat. I watched the baby vanish. Moments before the car hit the bottom, the man and woman vanished. The car exploded and the video stopped.

“Alaric,” the woman called. “We are your parents. Our names are Argos and Lyra Narvis. You are our son, the same baby from that video.”

“So, who am I.”, I asked.

“You were sent to Earth as a gatherer.”

“A gatherer? To gather what? WAIT! Sent to Earth! From where?”

“My son”, Argos said, “We are from a planet known as Galal. It has not yet been discovered by people from Earth.”

“I’m not human?”

“No!”, said Lyra as she laughed at the thought. “Can you not tell that you are something greater? You are smarter than they are. You are stronger than they are. You are greater than they are.”

“What was I sent to gather?”

“Information.”, said Argos. “We need to know if mankind is worthy of our friendship. You lived among them undetected for 16 years. Not even you knew of your mission.”

“Mission! I was just a baby. How can I have a mission?”

“That brings us to another point”, Lyra said. “You’re not 16. You’re really 216. Your memory was reset to help you fit in. We’ll restore your memory soon. But first…”

“WHAT! I had a life before my day of birth?”

“If by day of birth”, Argos said, “you mean the day you were first disguised as human, then, yes.”

This was too much for me to handle. I had to sit down.

“We understand your issue.” I wasn’t sure who said it. My head was still in a cloud. “Your friends, Tommy, Joe, and Teddy went through the same thing.”

“Wait! Tommy Higgins, Joe Monroe, Teddy Gibson. They were all aliens?”

“They are, you are, we are all Galalians. We never refer to ourselves as aliens.”

“What about my real parents. I mean my adoptive parents.”

“They work for us.”

“You mean, they’re Galalians also!”

“No. They’re human. Just on our side.”

“And they knew who I am the whole time. They never said anything. They told me they had just met you the day before.”

“Yes. That was part of the cover up. They were ordered not to tell you until your 16 Hatchday. Or birthday.”

“Hatchday! I was hatched. Like from an egg!”

“We know that this is a lot to take in. It will make more sense once we restore your memory. Come with us.”

I was asked to sit in this odd-looking chair. It had more wires sticking out than ComEd. The head rest was a chrome plate. When I sat down, restraints came over my legs, arms, chest, and neck.

“Is this going to hurt?” I asked.

“No!” said Argos. “Well, yes. A lot.”

Less than a second later, he threw the switch, and immediately I was in too much pain to scream. I was in too much pain to even think straight. All the memories of 216 years flooded back into my head. Now, I had something new to struggle with.

My real mission. To overthrow the planet Earth.