Another bright California summer day dawned. Everything seemed alive. Birds were having animated discussions. Squirrels quarreled over acorns. A few sprinklers were finishing up their limited midnight watering as California entered its 12th year of drought.
The view out the window seemed idyllic, but a dead space hung above the neighborhood. The streets were empty except for those going to the supermarket. Few cars were on the road. People weren’t out jogging or walking their dogs. The sounds of children laughing was a memory.
“How are you, Neesh?” Quinn said as he rubbed his eyes.
“I’m exhausted,” she said. “It’s not even eight o’clock. My life is empty now that they’re gone. I still have you and Sanjay. But my baby is gone. Right now, Pree is in orbit around the Moon. I think. What are they doing to her? Are they hurting her? I wonder if she can see the earth. Is she wondering what we’re doing? I hope she’s having the experience of her lifetime. If they’re benevolent, she might be learning about their species. Maybe they chose children because they would be less threatening and more amenable to contact with an alien species. Perhaps the children will become ambassadors. I’m happy for her. I would love to be on that ship.”
She stared at the ground for a while. Quinn said nothing and held her.
“I hate them. They might have better toys, but they have no heart.”
She sobbed again. Quinn stayed silent.
“I’m going into my computer room to watch what’s happening. I won’t let them do this to us. How dare they.”
She stormed out of the room.
Quinn shook his head at Sanjay and smiled.
“The aliens don’t know what they’re facing.”
“Yeah Daddy,” Sanjay said. “They should leave now while they can.”
They both smiled for a moment. Then they thought of Priya. The smiles faded.
Silence.
Quinn quietly walked into her office, placed several boxes of tissues beside her desk, put a hand on you shoulder for a few seconds and left without saying a word. Nisha put her hand on his, wiped away the tears and got to work. She watched her Twitter stream and sent out a few tweets of her own.
“My child, #abducted. I’m #heartbroken. They can’t break my spirit. #astronomy #aliens.”
“I estimate 10,000 children from 90 countries were #Abducted in about 100 cities in the past day. 100 children per sphere. #astronomy #aliens.”
“If you spot an #abduction sphere, don’t attack. The US President died after ordering a missile attack. #astronomy #aliens.”
“Good news: The #aliens only killed people they thought were dangerous and left others alone. They #paralyze temporarily, they don’t kill. #Astronomy.”
Nisha stayed glued to her computer all day with the door closed. Late in the afternoon, Quinn entered the room.
“Neesh, what happened to all those boxes of tissue?” he said.
“Oh, I put the empty ones over there. I have one more left. Thanks Quinn. You’re my hero.”
“How are you feeling?” he said.
“I’m dead and empty. Then I’m excited and I cry. I don’t know where my emotions will take me from one minute to the next. At least I’m getting exercise. The voices are still in my mind. How are you?”
“Well, I’m upset,” Quinn said. “I can’t help you. I can’t help Priya or Sophie. I can’t reduce Sanjay’s anxiety about what will happen next. My sculpture project is on hold. I can’t work on any paying project. I’m useless.”
Nisha stood up and hugged him. He was her pillar of strength and far from useless.
“Why don’t you go work on a project just for you? Work on something that expresses how you’re feeling right now. Strong emotions inspired the best works of art in history. Take advantage of your emotional state right now.”
Quinn smiled.
“Yeah, I’m going to do that. Later I’ll make dinner.”
He teared up.
“Here, have some tissues,” Nisha said.
Quinn left the room and carefully closed the door. Nisha continued monitoring the situation via her Twitter stream. Every five or ten minutes or so, a new abduction sphere randomly appeared somewhere in the world. Or at least the pattern seemed random. They liked to take children from the biggest cities. Cairo, Sao Paulo, London, Shanghai, Moscow, Mexico City, Paris. The list seemed endless. They each took away about 50-100 children at a time. She estimated 300-1200/hour.
She tweeted, “I estimate #alien child #abductions are occurring at the rate of 7,000-25,000 per day. 11,000+ total so far. #Astronomy.”
She spent the rest of the afternoon on Twitter, consoling the heartbroken grief of the parents of child abductees. She used the remaining box of tissues. Nisha felt Priya’s absence strongly at dinner. She tried to put on a brave face.
“Oh Quinn,” she said with a smile. “You made my favorite tofu dish, with the garlic baked broccoli and garlic bread too. You’re one of my most favorite husbands in this house.”
Quinn laughed.
“I’m happy to be in the top 10. Um, am I?”
“Maybe.”
They both focused on the empty chairs where Priya and Sophie had sat the night before. Tears streamed down their faces. Quinn opened another box of tissues.
He tried to smile and said, “I think I better get a commercial sized case of these tissues.”
She smiled for a second and broke down again.
“When am I going to get over this? I can’t stop crying.”
“You’ll stop when she’s back unharmed, and Sophie is too. You’ll be back to your usual— Neesh? Are the voices back?”
“I don’t know,” Nisha said. “I’m having chest pains.”
Quinn ran around the dinner table to hold her.
“Okay, relax.”
Nisha winced in pain.
“It’s not going away Quinn. I’m having trouble breathing. I’m dizzy. It’s not the aliens.”
“Okay I’ll drive you straight to the emergency room. It’s only a few minutes away. Contacting an ambulance would take longer. The closest one is, um, eight minutes away.”
They rushed to the hospital in autopilot emergency mode. A doctor examined Nisha and performed an ECG. They awaited the results for an hour. Quinn feared the worst but said nothing to Nisha. He didn’t want to make it worse. Nisha did the same.
“What’s taking them so long?” Sanjay said.
“I don’t know, but I hope—”
The doctor finally came in with the news.
“Nisha,” she said, “When you told me about your recent stressful experiences, I thought your heart problem might be the result of stress. That’s the source of the problem. You have stress-induced cardiomyopathy, or in other words, Broken Heart Syndrome.”
“There’s no such thing.” she said as she glanced at Quinn.
“It’s true,” the doctor said. “It’s rare, but the syndrome can happen under highly stressful circumstances such as the death of a loved one. You’ve been under extreme pressure. I follow you on twitter. They abducted your child and took her from you right in front of your eyes. The abductors aren’t even human. Who knows what they are, or what it is? If anyone ever had a reason to manifest this problem, you’re the one. Fortunately, the condition is usually temporary, and, in your case, the enlarged left ventricle should return to normal in a week or two if you can relax for a while.”
They monitored her for a few hours and then Quinn drove them home on standard autopilot. They walked into the house. Nisha went straight to her monitor to check on the latest developments.
“Neesh, what are you doing? You’re supposed to stay away from gadgets and the stress. You heard the doctor.”
“I need to understand what’s happening, and the DHS might be trying to contact me.”
“No.” Quinn said. “You need to relax, or there will be no you to contact. You’re always talking about how you want to be of use to people. Well, if you’re dead you won’t be of much use.”
“Fine Quinn, let me tell people what happened.”
She tweeted, “They diagnosed me with stress-induced cardiomyopathy, (Link: Broken Heart Syndrome.) Read about this if they abducted your child.”
Quinn insisted she stay away from the computers for the rest of the day. That wasn’t easy for Nisha, but she did it.