Was I supposed to wait for the ER to discharge him? I came close to nodding off in the waiting room trying to figure that out. The longer I stayed, the more I wasn’t sure anyone else was coming for him. I half expected a convoy of Humvees to roll through the parking lot, but the hours ticked away, and still nothing. No passing sirens rang out, no helicopters buzzed by, and no one mentioned anything on the news. 

It was only a fifteen-minute drive from the lake house to the hospital, but the clock read half past midnight. Even if they’d gone by the crash site beforehand, they had plenty of time to get there and back. But the world remained as monotonous as it had ever been. No one seemed to care about Commander Lucas Von, except maybe me, which I still hadn’t decided yet.

I climbed back into my hand-me-down SUV more than a few times. I even rode away once. But when I saw the bloodstains on the backseat, I found myself headed right back. The part of me lovingly known as Mama couldn’t leave him behind without knowing he would be alright.

She also compelled me to dig my gym bag out of the trunk. The outfit I’d been wearing before changing into my suit stuck out of the open zipper: a pair of jeans, a t-shirt with a cartoon dog on it, and a beige sweater. Although it would have been an upgrade from my burned undershirt and drooping, beltless trousers, I suspected Commander Lucas Von needed it more. He had a leaner build than me, and was taller, but it’d be a close enough fit that he’d have something clean to wear when he came out. And once I was in full-on Mama-mode, I remembered the fast-food place down the street. I could pick something up for him, and if he didn’t want it, it’d be breakfast for me.

“What are you still doing here?” Commander Lucas Von asked.

I jerked awake. How long was I out? My eyes found the clock. Half past five. Ugh, it should have been illegal to be conscious so early.

He stood propped on a pair of crutches, his left leg covered by a pair of baggy gray sweatpants and a brace. The matching sweatshirt wasn’t any more attractive. A bandage covered the bridge of his nose, and the smell of antiseptic wafted from him.

“I was waiting for you,” I said. “Not every day you get to befriend a spaceman.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Sir,” I added for good measure. The food in the bag threatened to break through its grease-weakened bottom as I held it up. “Hungry?”

His lip curled. “I’m vegan.”

“Oh. Cool. Good on you.” I tried the gym bag next. “I’ll lend you this, if you want. You can change here or in the car on the way.”

“On the way to where?”

“I don’t know. NASA? Area 51? You tell me.”

A sigh escaped his broken nose, and he hobbled on his crutches to the automatic doors. I followed him out with the gym bag in one hand and the food in the other. The cold night air bit into my bare arms.

“Expecting someone else?”

He didn’t reply. He looked to the horizon as if a craft like the one he rode in on would swoop down and pick him up.

“Is your starship going to beam you aboard?” I asked a few seconds later when we were both still standing there.

“What do you want?” he snapped.

“I want to give you a ride. I don’t mind. You don’t even have to tell me if you’re on a secret mission or from the future or another dimension or something. We can talk about the weather.”

Silence followed. It was all I needed to know the truth. As I suspected, he was alone.

“Hello? Ground control to Commander Lucas Von. Please respond.”

He snatched the gym bag out of my hand, an awkward thing to do on crutches. “Fine. But you have to stop.”

“I make no promises. Sir.” I pressed a button on my car fob and waited at the curb for the SUV to pull up. “Open rear door. Right side.” The car obeyed my voice. “Do you need help getting in?”

He ignored me, balanced his weight on his good leg, and threw the crutches into the back. I took that as a “no” and hopped into the front. A voice was already prattling away on the radio when I sat down.

“In response to the government’s decision to outlaw robots that are indistinguishable from humans,” it said, “Genesis Robotics issued a recall of a number of its android products yesterday. However, there seems to be some pushback from customers who are reluctant to trade in their androids for the new metallic models. Company president Richard Cussons posted a statement on social media last night reminding users that, as human as the androids seem, they’re only a simulation. Once the law takes effect, anyone in possession of one of the recalled android models will be subject to steep fines. Genesis Robotics is offering a free upgrade to anyone who—”

“Pumpkin, take us to the nearest fast-food location with a vegan option,” I interrupted, “and change the channel. Anything playing music.”

“What are you doing?” Commander Lucas Von finally settled into his seat.

“Taking you to get something to eat.” I opened the paper bag and it belched the smell of fatty, salty meat into my face. “Do you mind if I...?”

He nodded, and I scraped the bottom of the bag for the cold sandwich. Pumpkin pulled around the building, stopped at an intersection, and went left down the street, all on its own.  Camila had named the car after Cinderella’s carriage. The twins complained about wanting to change it for ages but never did, so it stuck.

I stuffed my mouth full of sandwich and tried not to watch Commander Lucas Von pick at the dried blood on the seat. He caught me looking and flicked the red crust from under his fingernails.

“So, where are we going after breakfast?” I asked. “Some kind of secret government hideout?”

The distance returned to his eyes. “I need a way to contact my command.”

“You want to borrow my phone?”

“Can your phone’s signal surpass your network’s satellites and reach space-faring vessels?”

“I honestly don’t know how phones work.”

“Not like that.”

I gnawed off another chunk of sandwich. “But you are from space, then?”

The corner of his nose pinched into a snarl, and he rested his head on the window.

“What do we need to talk to people in space?” I scarfed down the remains of the food, crumpled up the bag, and shoved it under the seat. “I’m guessing nothing we can pick up at the nearest Crash Mart?”

“Let me think,” he ordered, but I imagined what he meant was, “Shut up.”

A light rain speckled the windshield. Not a storm, just a passing sprinkle. I loved riding in the car in the rain. Poor visibility posed a danger when people used to drive themselves, and, because of that, it had a certain stigma. But I found it calming to look outside at the cold, the gray, the wet, and feel cozy, warm, and safe on the other side of the window. 

On the other hand, I couldn’t see the stars, and I wished I could. “It can’t be that hard,” I said. “The people on the ISS2 have internet, don’t they? There’s constant information passing between us and space. What’s the nearest piece of equipment capable of getting a signal out as far as you need?”

He scoffed. “In this town? My ship, probably.”

“Okay. So then, let’s go there.”

“Kid, maybe you didn’t notice, but my ship was on fire the last time we saw it.”

“So? Does it have some kind of communicator or something? We’ll run in, grab what we need, and get out.”

“We’ll run in, eh? Great idea.” He waved his hand over his injured leg.

“I’ll run in, grab what we need, and get out then. You point, and I’ll fetch.”

His scoff turned into an all-out laugh. “Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t know. It’s distracting me from things I don’t want to do.”

“Like?”

The image of a gun passed through my mind. “School.”

“School? How old are you, again?”

“Twelve, remember? Come on. It’ll be easy. I got you out, didn’t I?” I turned to the front of the car. “Pumpkin, add second stop. Lake house.”

“Cancel that, Pumpkin,” he said, but the car wouldn’t obey a voice it didn’t recognize. A map appeared in the corner of the windshield, and a red dot flashed above the lake house. “Look, Chance, right? I can’t let you do this. It’s too dangerous. Won’t your parents be wondering where you are?

“I can promise you, neither of my parents care about where I am,” I said. “Just let me help. I want to. Besides, how are you going to stop me, Captain Pike?” I reached over the chair and smacked his brace. “That was a Star Trek reference for being broken.”

“Mm-hm. You’re hilarious.”

I let him have my best fake smile. “So, how about this rain?”

He insisted on paying for his own meal. He not only had money, but when he leaned in to talk to the lady at the drive-through window, I noticed he kept his credit card in a wallet beside his ID and what looked like a Crash Mart gift card. It could have been the contents of anyone’s wallet. Just who was this ordinary man who fell from the sky? 

After a bite to eat, he promptly passed out, his jaw wide open and his cheek smashed into the window with no dignity whatsoever. I snapped a few photos for posterity, or possibly blackmail, and curled up into a ball to join him.

Commander Lucas Von’s struggle to change clothes jostled the front seat. My eyelids pressed against my eyes like ten-ton weights, and the burn wound on my hip throbbed. I shifted in my seat and rubbed my face while he pulled my beige sweater over his head. The sun peaked from beyond the hills, and a couple of miles out, a line of smoke twisted into the sky.

I sat up, placed my hand over my aching hip, and hissed. Whose idea was this anyway?

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Did you have the doctors take a look at that?”

“No. It’s not that bad.” I hopped across the center console to the driver’s side and adjusted the seat. “Ever been off-road before?”

He took the hint and put his seatbelt on. “Never in a civilian vehicle.”

“Well, then. Hang on to your crutches. Pumpkin, shift to manual mode.”

“Manual operation not recommended,” said the car. “Authorization required.”

I punched the code into the main screen. A steering wheel slid out of the dash and a pair of pedals came up from the floor.

“You can drive?” Commander Lucas Von asked.

“I’m not giving you a piggy-back ride again.” I shifted the car into drive, and the tires crawled off the driveway and onto the lawn. “My dad taught me. He’s old fashioned. Once, me and my sister Mia were out here—”

“I don’t really want to hear your life story.”

“Okay. Cool.”

“Let’s just get this over with and get you home before I’m arrested for kidnapping or something.”

I bobbed my head. “So, are you always a dick, or is this because you’re having a bad day? ‘Cause I gave you the benefit of the doubt earlier, but I’m starting to think that might’ve been a mistake.”

“I’m not being a...” Our eyes met in the rearview mirror. “Look, it’s better if you’re not involved with me. I appreciate your help, but it isn’t safe for you. None of this is safe. We shouldn’t even be doing it.”

“We’re already here. Relax. We’ll be in and out. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You have no idea.”

“Yeah. Clearly.”

The car crunched through the grass, rolled around the lake house, and scaled the surrounding hills. It wasn’t meant for traversing wild terrain, so I took it slow. Rocking back and forth along the uneven ground, I might have even dozed off once or twice.

We pulled up to the crash site where a few stubborn flames continued to lap up the side of the ship but had mostly died out. Thankfully, it hadn’t spread to the surrounding grass and sent the whole hillside ablaze. In hindsight, I should have called someone about the fire. In foresight, I’d do that after we left.

As we rolled toward the edge of a dirt mound, something new stood out in the bottom of the ditch: a single occupant motorbike, parked in the mud. Its thick wheels sported treads the size of a monster truck’s. Its body sat high off the ground. Across its shiny metal sides, in block letters, it read E-M-E-R-G-E-N-C-Y. Maybe someone had come for Commander Lucas Von after all.

“You think your command might be here?” I asked.

“Not likely. Why?”

“Someone’s down there.”