Translucent by Dan Rix

that, are you?”
    He ignored the comment. “How close were you to the impact site?”
    “Five hundred feet. The sound took about half a second to get to us.”
    “What happened after the impact?”
    “We, uh . . . we went to investigate.”
    He motioned me on. “Please continue.”
    “There was this big crater, and everything was steaming and red-hot, and some of the plants around it were burning. Then I . . . I went down into the crater. It was stupid, I know. It was a stupid idea, but I just wanted to see what was down there. We heard helicopters coming, and we saw a bunch of people come out in protective suits and put out the fires. Then we went home.”
    “Did you remove anything from the crater?”
    My eyes sought out the ground. “No . . . I mean, it was just a little rock, a piece that broke off. Look, I didn’t know it was important. I’m really, really sorry. We were already leaving by the time the helicopters got there, so I didn’t know it was a big deal or anything.”
    Connor regarded me with stony eyes, drumming his fingers on the desk. “Did you notice anything unusual about the fragment of rock you removed?”
    I shook my head.
    “Please say yes or no for the recording.”
    “No.”
    “Nothing at all?”
    “It was wet. The meteorite was wet. Like, it secretes something. I don’t know.”
    “Does the meteorite make you feel a certain way? Are you drawn to it, perhaps . . . or repelled by it?
    I looked up. “Huh?”
    “Does it make you feel unclean?”
    I shifted in the chair. “Uh . . . a little, I guess.”
    “Would you say you feel a strange attachment to it? Or do you feel it means a lot to you, has sentimental value . . . ?”
    I nodded. “Yeah, I kind of feel protective of it. It’s weird.”
    His eyes stayed fixed on mine, betraying nothing. “Go on.”
    “I mean, it’s a meteorite. I think it’s cool.” I shut my mouth, feeling like a bumbling idiot.
    He pressed his lips together. “How many people, besides you, have come in contact with the object you took from the crater?”
    “Just my best friend, Megan.”
    “Megan Barker?”
    I nodded. “I mean, yes . Megan Barker.”
    He leaned in. “For the recording, I’ll be interviewing Megan Barker immediately following this.” He addressed me again. “Has it come into contact with anything else besides your skin and your clothes? Any household items or containers. Try very hard to remember, now, Leona.”
    Underneath his almost robotic voice lurked a hint of urgency.
    I complied. “It touched my bed sheets, the inside of my pockets . . . obviously . . . my nightstand, and let’s see . . .” I looked up, trying to remember. “My trash can. And the floor. It fell on the floor.”
    “Anything else?”
    “No.”
    “Now think very hard, Leona. Has it touched anything else? This is very important.” His dark eyes bored into me.
    I shook my head.
    “Please say yes or no.”
    “No.”
    “Thank you for your cooperation.” He reached forward and turned off the recorder, letting out a weary sigh. “As you’ve probably guessed, the meteorite that struck the San Rafael Wilderness contained toxic radioactive isotopes. What you witnessed on Sunday was merely a drill testing the readiness of our meteorite response unit. They really should have been the first ones on the scene. I apologize for any inconvenience this has caused you.”
    “I thought they did really well,” I said. “I mean, they got there within five minutes. That’s good, right?”
    “Not nearly good enough, I’m afraid.” He clasped his hands in front of him and straightened up. “Leona, I’m going to send in a cleanup crew to decontaminate your bedroom. Why don’t you show me where it is.”
    “It’s in a sock. Down in the bottom corner.” From my bedroom doorway, I pointed to the bottom drawer of my bureau, feeling an embarrassed blush rise in my cheeks.
    Inside my room, two men in full hazmat suits dug through my