H.A.L.F.: The Makers by Natalie Wright

thought to herself. If Ian was hopeful, that made one of them. She didn’t want to poison his well of hope. “Good point,” she said.
    The door slid open and Xenos scurried in. The door shut immediately behind her. She moved in the same quick way that Tex did. It gave the appearance that she somehow glided on rollers rather than walked.
    Xenos carried a small metal tray. No cheeseburger for Ian. There were two metal cups and two small rectangular bricks that looked in the dim light like two hunks of particleboard.
    “Nourishment,” Xenos said. She held the tray out to them. Her hands were covered in gloves made of the same silvery metallic material that her clothes were made of.
    Ian shrugged and picked up one of the fibrous bricks of so-called food. His lip curled as he smelled it. “Damn. Smells like rotten fish that someone pissed on.”
    “That’s not encouraging,” Erika said. She grabbed the small block of food meant for her.
    Dr. Randall took his block of ‘food’ and sniffed it. He took a small nibble off the corner.
    Ian bit into the block and chewed. And chewed and chewed. He grimaced and grabbed for one of the cups. In Ian’s large hand, the diminutive cup looked like a toddler’s sippy cup. Ian took a long draw and nearly gagged.
    Erika sniffed the bar and realized, to her misfortune, that it did indeed smell as Ian had described it. She took a small bite. To say it was grainy would be an understatement. It was like chewing wood pulp and completely flavorless. Not a hint of salt or sweet. Not even bitter or tangy.
    “Bottoms up,” Ian said. He held his tiny cup up in the air.
    Erika clinked her cup on Ian’s and they both drank the viscous liquid. It had no more flavor than the brick of tasteless fiber, but at least it was wet and washed down the particleboard.
    “Is the nourishment acceptable?” Xenos asked.
    Erika coughed. “It’s – well, we won’t starve, but –”
    “It is acceptable,” Dr. Randall said. He winked at Erika as he said it.
    “Acceptable. Noted. The humans will not starve,” Xenos said.
    Xenos turned to leave, but Erika called out to her. “Xenos, wait.”
    Xenos twirled around but did not walk back to them.
    “Please – stay. We have so many questions. Where are we? Can we leave this dark room and go outside? And where is Tex?”
    Xenos glanced over her shoulder at the door. “I have been instructed only to provide nourishment and ensure that the humans do not expire. I am not authorized to answer your questions.” Xenos again began to leave.
    “Please!” Erika grabbed Xenos by the shoulder. The fabric was like tissue paper under her fingers. Xenos’ slight shoulders were bony. “You have to help us.”
    Xenos froze and dropped the metal tray. It hit the hard floor with a loud crash, and Xenos’ eyes grew even wider than normal. She pulled her shoulder away, but Erika did not feel a stabbing pain in her head or the sensation of invisible hands strangling her neck. She didn’t telekinetically attack me. Maybe she doesn’t have all the same abilities that Tex has.
    “I don’t want to harm you. I just want answers,” Erika said.
    Xenos’ voice came out a pitch higher. “I am not authorized. Nourishment only. I must go or –”
    “Or what?” Dr. Randall asked. He approached Xenos and she hunched herself away from him, her back nearly against the door.
    “The Conexus,” she said. “They can use their minds as one. I am Infractus. I am not one with them. I cannot defend myself against them. I am inferior. If I disobey, the Conexus …” Xenos’ eyes welled with fat tears.
    “They’ll torture you,” Erika said. “It feels like a knife stabbing you through your head, doesn’t it?”
    Xenos looked up at her. “How do you know of this? You are not Infractus and you only just arrived three cycles ago.”
    Erika didn’t know how long a cycle was, but she tucked the information away to puzzle over later with the other questions she’d gathered. “I