On the night when everything changed, General Bavaey, resting after a long day of work, was startled awake by an emergency notification from his communicator wristwatch. He gazed at the notification, its words in an unfamiliar language.

  Bavaey leaped from his bed, sending a voice message to a friend on the Council for information, then to his pilot, captain Tilos. As he spoke into his communicator, Bavaey stopped, unable to recognize the words he said, yet he could understand them.

  Is there something wrong with me? he thought to himself.

  Bavaey would soon find out that, no, there was not. Captain Tilos spoke the same unfamiliar language, yet they understood each other. As he and his pilot prepared for take-off, worried for the people of Lecinvoe, they received an encoded voice message from an informant on the Council, the current leader of Region 7. The loss of language affected the whole world. Their old language was gone.

  General Bavaey of the Yukkob military gazed down from his Ky-Xeos VTOL jet, hovering above the city of Lecinvoe, watching as the people’s panic turned to violence. Bavaey adjusted his communicator’s earpiece and waited for the confidential emergency meeting of the world leaders, the Councilors, to begin. Below him, the Yukkob people ran through the streets, their pink and blue skins contrasting against the dark streets. Their arms and two tails moved in sharp, angry motions as they spoke words from a language, not their own.

  His gaze drifted to a yellow caution sign stuck to the wall of his Ky-Xeos. He read this sign many times. He could recite its warning by heart, but now he couldn’t read it. Its familiar letters were illegible. Somehow, the language he had known his whole life no longer made sense.

  Bavaey could hear the idle conversations. The members of the Council speaking in an unfamiliar language, yet he could understand them. They spoke about the same thing he was thinking. How was any of this possible? Someone smacked a gavel, quieting the idle conversations from each of the nine Council members.

  “We’ve received reports from our scout teams of two unknown creatures appearing in separate regions. They do not fit the description of any previously discovered animals. Hikers found one in the mountain ruins on the border of Region 1 and 2 and another wandering the deserts of Lecinvoe,” the Councilor of Region 9, Casiw Trabeeyr, reported.

  “Are they the cause of this atrocity?” another Councilor asked. Bavaey didn’t recognize this one’s voice.

  “We don’t know, but their simultaneous appearance is suspicious,” Councilor Casiw spoke in a firm voice.

  Bavaey glanced at his wristwatch, a device that doubled as the control for his communicator—seconds ticked up as it recorded the Council’s conversation. He rubbed the edge of the watch, picturing himself standing before the Council under conviction of treason for such an action. The career he spent his life building would disappear. His gaze turned back to the city below, focusing on a nearby rooftop with a figure standing in a doorway. A cough in his earpiece brought his attention back to the meeting.

  “The reports describe them as mammalian, one male and one female. We believe they are called ‘Akshaki,’” Councilor Casiw continued.

  “Oh yeah? Which one do we have?” a third Councilor asked. Bavaey groaned. He recognized this voice as Councilor Dulis.

  “Both, they are currently being stored in a high-security research facility,” Councilor Casiw said.

  “What are yer plans for ‘em?” a female voice asked. Bavaey didn’t recognize her.

  “Figure out their role in what has happened,” Councilor Casiw’s voice slipped, a drop of anger pushing through his words. “They may be the key to reversing this situation and returning the people’s favor.”

  Bavaey continued to watch the figure as she stepped away from the door. She looked around the city below, her arms folded and head tucked in. He kept his ears open to the ongoing conversation of the Council, curious to hear their plans for the Akshaki aliens.

  “That begs another question. Should this discovery be announced?” Councilor of Region 7, Turanec Noldeg, asked.

  “No, the last thing we want are rumors about aliens or invasions. We don’t need anyone getting wind of the space shuttle project,” Councilor Casiw cautioned.

  “An explanation into a possible source or reverse of the language issue may help ease their minds,” Councilor Turanec replied.

  Bavaey focused on the conversation as his gaze drifted around the city, then back to the same distant rooftop. He watched a second figure in a dark uniform appeared in the doorway. The female noticed him and started moving toward the ledge as the second figure followed, saying something Bavaey couldn’t understand. His nerves rose as a sudden sharp jeer pulled his attention back to the Council.

  “Why? We risk some nut job trying to break into their facilities as well. The herd will calm down. Eventually.” Silence followed Councilor Dulis’s snide remark.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “I move to take a vote,” the female Councilor he didn’t recognize from earlier said. A few others agreed.

  Silence and hushed mumbles followed.

  “The Akshaki will be stored in facility R-7R. Access is restricted to Council and personnel with appropriate clearance. No announcements will be made. Anyone who attempts to steal or leak this information will be criminally charged. Next issue.” A gavel bang followed Councilor Casiw’s words.

  Baveay eyed the figure as she stepped onto the ledge. “Captain Tilos, take us closer to them.” He kept his eye on the female as she stepped closer to the rooftop’s ledge, having trouble concentrating on her and the Council meeting at the same time. He moved his hand over to his communicator, debating whether to continue listening.

  “What should we do about the riots in Lecinvoe?” Councilor Casiw asked.

  Bavaey looked at his wristwatch, his finger over the mute button, sitting up in his chair as the female turned and shouted inaudible words at the second figure. Bavaey looked up, noticing the second figure was an overwhelmed police officer. “Pilot, closer to that rooftop.”

  “Aye major,” Captain Tilos acknowledged.

  Councilor Turanec broke the silence. “The people of Lecinvoe are scared. We all are. The loss of our language is an unprecedented event. We need to work with them,”

  “What? Why? Councilor Turanec, they’re destroying their own city, burning their businesses, and robbing their stores. You think they care about any of that?” Councilor Gered laughed.

  “I say we make an example of them. Any riots during a time when we should be working together will be met with severe punishment,” Councilor Dulis replied.

  “What’s your idea of punishment?” Councilor Casiw asked.

  “Riot police, followed by military intervention if that fails. Rioters must be dealt with as criminals. What stops other Regions from acting like moronic little animals?”

  Mumbles followed Councilor Dulis’ remark. Bavaey felt his jaw slacken upon hearing the Councilor’s plan. He looked back at the female on the building, her shouts high-pitched and frantic.

  “Then where are they?” She screamed at the officer. “Everything I’ve ever owned and worked for is gone, and the government hasn’t lifted a finger to help us! I can’t take it,” she stepped closer to the edge.

  The rotors on his Ky-Xeos swiveled and hovered closer to the hotel rooftop, landing as Bavaey unbuckled from his seat and stepped out, walking across the Ky-Xeos bay door that doubled as an off-ramp. He could hear the officer talking as the woman shrieked at him, her voice raising in pitch as she pulled further away.

  “HOW? How is everything going to go back to normal? I can’t read my emails, bills, or anything about my merchandise. How is my store supposed to survive if I can’t read anything? Gods, I don’t even know what I’m saying. What fucking language is this!” The woman’s expression dropped as thoughts raced through her head.

  Councilor Turanec spoke in a firm tone despite hints of frustration slipping through. “Their anger comes from the voices of those who have lost and seek answers. The longer we ignore those voices, the angrier they will get,”

  “Good point, Councilor of Region 7. Do you think that intervention is necessary?”

  “We need to support them. Send aid and resources to affected businesses and send workers to help rewrite and reprogram documents and computers. This affliction affects all of us, and we need to show that we are with them.”

  “And how much time will we waste on them? Ungrateful is what I say. If they don’t trust us enough to wait, then we have no reason to help them.”

  Bavaey let go of his communicator as he approached the woman, a young Yukkob, her skin a faint pink color, but her face dark and stressed, wet streaks of tears rolling down her cheeks, toning out the conversation.

  “They don’t care! No one cares.” She cried.

  Quiet mumbles filled the Councilors chamber once more as quiet discussions broke out. They all silenced at the bang of a gavel. “Then we take it to a vote,” silence followed Councilor Casiw’s request.

  The officer searched around, racking his mind, trying to figure out what to say to the woman teetering on the edge. “Ma’am, I promise you, the Council is doing everything in its power to help.” The officer's hand clenched, forcing himself to keep his eyes on her as his expression grew ever more anxious. Bevaey could hear the idle conversation of the Council as they voted but didn’t pay attention till one statement was uttered by Casiw.

  “The vote is settled. Police, followed by military intervention, will be used should the riots continue. We will deploy aid once the people obey.”

  Bavaey inhaled, sharp and slow, closing his eyes for a moment. He opened them as he took cautious steps toward the woman, reaching out his hand. “My name is Bavaey. I work with the Council. I know they’re planning aid.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she snapped.

  “Even if I’m wrong, what will that solve?” Bavaey nodded toward the ledge.

  A smack of a gavel once again silenced the idle conversations of the Council. “Onto the next task, containment of the new species. Should we move to terminate the Akshaki if proven uncooperative?” Councilor Casiw asked.

  The woman stared at the ledge of the hotel rooftop. “It’ll end the pain.”

  “Do you have a family?”

  “They won’t care if I’m gone.”

  “Then your pain won’t end.”

  The woman looked confused. “Of course, it will!”

  “Suicide doesn’t end the pain. It moves it. Misery won’t end with your suicide. It’ll spread to your friends, family, and everyone you love.”

  “No, it won’t. They’ll be happy. I can’t provide for them the way I am now.”

  “You can’t provide for them if you’re dead, but living will give you a chance to get back on your feet. Come with me. I know a friend who can help you. He works with computers. He’s working through this crisis right now and can help you with anything you need.”

  “I want to believe you.”

  “That’s all you need. We can work this out.” Bavaey reached his hand out. “Come with me. I’ll bring you to my friend.”

  “Okay,” she breathed. “I’ll go talk with him. What have I got to lose.” She took his hand.

  “Then it’s agreed. The Council is to interrogate and gain answers from these creatures, then eliminate them. The power of these two aliens, the Akshaki, is greater than any animal known to our current understanding of science. Under no circumstance should this power be known to the general public, as the risk of it turning against us is too great.”

  Bavaey helped the woman onto his jet. He disconnected from the Council meeting, double-checking the recording and gazing at the city. Bavaey looked back at the woman whom he saved. The general ended his audio connection with the Council.

  “Tilos, you know where to go,” he told the pilot.

  And afterward,” Bevaey thought,” we need to figure out where they’re putting those aliens.