Alienated

Chapter Five

Aelyx awoke in a sweaty haze, the same way he’d begun each morning since his arrival on Earth. He pulled off his dampened T-shirt and used it to blot the perspiration from his forehead, wondering when his body would adjust to this unfamiliar climate. Probably just in time for his departure.

The bare taupe walls of his bedroom bathed in the gentle glow of the early morning sun reminded him of his quar­ters on L’eihr, exactly as his human hosts had intended. He indulged for a moment, closing his eyes and pretending he was there now. His longing for home made his chest ache and stole his breath. After eighteen years in the bustling Aegis, he couldn’t even sleep properly without his roommates snoring and rustling in their bunks an arm’s length away. Gods, he missed them.

Fortunately, three days had passed, so he could finally reconnect with Syrine and Eron. Even though he had no progress to report, his heart raced in anticipation of glimpsing their faces.

Aelyx pulled the com-sphere from beneath his pillow and whispered the passkey to unlock it. The brushed metal buzzed to life, tickling his palm as he spoke his friends’ names and waited for their own spheres to summon them.

Eron’s hologram was the first to appear on the bed­spread, his miniature fingers stretching toward Aelyx’s throat in the standard greeting. Judging by the tile wall and shiny chrome fixtures in the background, he’d locked himself in the bathroom.

“Quiet,” Eron said, stepping into the porcelain tub and pulling the shower curtain closed behind him. “My human’s young cousin has taken a liking to me. I think he’s listening at the door.”

Syrine’s image flickered to life. Shadows darkened the skin beneath her heavily lidded eyes, and her mouth sagged—obvious proof that the French boy hadn’t given her much peace.

“Mother of L’eihr.” She rubbed her face with one palm. “Kill me now.”

Aelyx offered a sympathetic grin. “Remember what I sug­gested if he refuses to observe boundaries?” No living creature could tolerate a kick to the reproductive organs.

“I’ll never earn his trust that way.” Syrine shook her head. “What about your female? Is she as tolerable as I predicted?”

He considered a moment. Cara had made an obvious effort to be sociable in the past two days, filling their schedule with activities and conversation. He supposed talking with her was preferable to spending time alone.

“Yes,” he finally decided. “Fairly tolerable.”

“How about you?” she asked Eron.

“I can’t complain. My family is quite welcoming. I rather like them, especially little Ming. He looks at me like I hand-carved the moon.”

Syrine flashed an obscene gesture, not bothering to hide her jealousy. “When do you integrate with the others?”

“Next week.”

“I start tomorrow,” Aelyx added. He looked forward to his first day of school with all the enthusiasm of a man facing a lobotomy.

“I haven’t been able to sneak away yet,” Eron whispered. “Have you?”

Aelyx and Syrine both shook their heads. “We expected this,” Aelyx said. “But our host families will relax once we settle into a routine. I’ll try to plant my sh’alear in the next few days.”

“So will I,” Eron promised, “if the child will give me a moment’s rest. I swear by the Mother he wants to play alien invaders all—” Three quick knocks sounded from Eron’s bath­room door, followed by a child’s high chirp. After muttering a good-natured curse, Eron shut down his sphere, disappearing from view.

“We’ll have to do it soon.” Syrine paused to yawn. “It’ll take weeks to see results.”

“Get some rest,” Aelyx told Syrine. “This will be over before long.” She nodded and her hologram vanished into the air like a wisp of smoke. With a sigh, he stuffed his com-sphere into his top dresser drawer.

Raising his chin, he sniffed the air and recognized the stench of something humans called bacon. It was harsh, salty, and dripping with animal fat. He shuddered with disgust and grabbed his clothes. A cool shower would restore his body temperature, and if he hurried, he could claim the bathroom before Cara monopolized it for one of her hour-long groom­ing sessions.

He turned the doorknob as quietly as possible and stepped into the hall. He was within two paces of the bathroom when Cara rounded the corner and met him face-to-face. She sucked in a startled breath, clutching the front of her bath­robe. Her eyes widened, traveling slowly down the length of his exposed chest while a burgundy flush spread across her cheeks.

Fasha. What was he thinking leaving his room half dressed? Now he’d made the girl uncomfortable. He held the folded clothing high against his bare flesh, but that only seemed to make matters worse as her gaze darted to his abdomen and held there.

He glanced down, wondering what had caught her atten­tion. “Ah.” The answer came, and he smoothed two fingers over his lower stomach. “I don’t have what you call a belly button.”

“Oh, right.” She cleared her throat and stared down at her slippered feet. “Because of the clone thing.”

“No. Because we’re all born from artificial wombs. Even the Elders.”

“Really? So it doesn’t matter how— Oh!” With a gasp, she pointed at his feet. “And your toes!”

He’d forgotten humans still had five toes, and Cara prob­ably didn’t realize hers would appear just as odd to him.

“You’ll lose the smallest one in a couple thousand years,” he said. “Maybe sooner, if you stop mating like animals and reproduce with purpose.”

“What the—” When her eyes turned to slits, he knew he’d said something wrong. Perhaps mating like animals had sounded too harsh, even if it was true. She kicked off her slip­per and pointed to her ivory foot. “I like my pinkie toe just the way it is, and I’d rather grow a second head than let the government tell me who to sleep with!”

“Of course.” He spoke in low tones, the way he’d seen humans placate domesticated canines. It seemed to work, because when he added, “Please forgive my rudeness,” she fingered her furry robe and gave a pardoning nod.

“I made breakfast,” she said curtly. “It’s just the two of us.”

Aelyx didn’t want breakfast, especially if bacon was involved, but he hated to anger Cara again so quickly. Besides, today marked the seventeenth anniversary of her birth, so he postponed his shower and prepared for the worst.

“Happy birthday,” he told her while pulling on a clean T-shirt.

“How’d you know?” Turning, she glanced over her shoul­der and led him toward the kitchen. A symphony of unfamiliar odors mingled with the bacon to assault his nose and turn his stomach before he reached the doorway.

“I requested a portfolio on your family several weeks ago.” When they reached the kitchen, he stopped short. The surface of the oak table was barely visible beneath dozens of break­fast dishes: bacon, eggs, cold cereals, a scorched assortment of breads, and clumsily chopped chunks of fruit.

He stared at the smorgasbord in open-mouthed surprise. “This is a lot of food for two people. Where are your parents?”

“At mass. They never miss it. I’m more of a cafeteria Catholic—I pick and choose when to go, what to believe. Drives Mom crazy.”

Ah, yes, their God, whom Christians referred to as Father. Interesting that several galaxies away, his people prayed to the Sacred Mother and her children, the gods of L’eihr.

Cara shrugged and nodded toward the table. “You can try a little of everything till you find something you like.”

“You made all this for me?” Surely she didn’t expect him to sample each foul dish. He might not survive it.

“Don’t panic. You don’t have to eat it all. But I can tell you don’t like the food here, and it’s my job to make sure you’re comfortable and happy.”

Comfort and happiness: two states of being he’d never achieve on Earth.

“You shouldn’t have,” he managed.

She smiled and stood a bit straighter. “It was no big deal.”

But clearly it was a “big deal.” She must have spent hours preparing the meal, and on her birthday, no less, so he forced a grin, took a plate, and spooned out a small serving of each food on the table.

Twenty minutes later, he simply couldn’t take any more.

“I’m sorry.” He tried to hold back a grimace. “I appreciate the effort.”

“No biggie. But we have to find something you like before you lose weight.”

“Actually, I’ve gained weight by default. L’eihr is slightly smaller than Earth, so my body is heavier on your planet.”

“Really?” Her auburn brows rose toward her hairline. “How much heavier? Is it harder to move around?”

“No, the difference is negligible, only a few pounds. But don’t worry about my nutrition. The supplements really do supply my body with most of my dietary needs.”

Cara pursed her lips and tapped them with her index fin­ger. “What do you eat for breakfast at home?”

“Usually t’ahinni. It’s a basic grain and protein dish made with larun, my favorite flatbread.” Aelyx sighed, remember­ing the nutty, slightly smoky flavor of warm flatbread, freshly baked and crisp from the oven. He could almost taste it.

“Does lar-uhn compare to anything here?”

“Well . . .” He glanced around the table. “It’s difficult to explain, but maybe a cross between your wheat toast and that corn bread over there.”

“Hmm.” Cara’s gaze shifted to the side and she fell silent a moment. A slow smile spread across her mouth. He won­dered, a little nervously, what she was thinking.

“Okay.” She pulled a folded piece of paper from her robe pocket and slapped it on the table. “I made a list of things we can do today.” She pointed a red fingernail at each item as she spoke. “We can go hiking. I thought about swimming, but I don’t think it’ll be warm enough. Or—”

“Wait,” he said. “Isn’t it customary to celebrate your birth­day with friends and family? Don’t worry about keeping me entertained. Do what you like; I can stay here and read.”

“Eric and Tori have away games.” The corners of her mouth drooped into a scowl. “You’ll meet them at the party tonight.”

The prospect didn’t seem to excite her. Before he had the chance to ask why, she pushed her chair away from the table and tossed the list into the recycling bin. “Let’s just take a walk. I’ll go get dressed.”

Aelyx moved into a patch of shade and gazed at the silvery undersides of the leafy canopy shielding him from the sun. A light wind caressed his skin, offering a temporary reprieve from the oppressive heat. He pulled back his dampened hair and fastened it behind his neck.

“We should’ve gone swimming.” Cara used a hand to fan her cheeks. The breeze shifted a branch from above, allowing the sunlight to touch her hair. The metallic strands seemed to ignite, glistening like a flame, and he glanced away. It was too much color, a sensory overload.

“Is this what you’d call an Indian summer?” He squinted at the vivid green grass. No matter where he trained his gaze, he couldn’t escape Earth’s vibrancy.

“No, because we haven’t had the first freeze yet. But this time of year’s always wonky. Next week we’ll probably be wearing sweaters.” She sat on a thick patch of grass and leaned against an oak tree. “Tell me about the weather on L’eihr. You have seasons, right?” Before he had a chance to respond, she said, “That’s a stupid question. Your planet revolves around a sun, so of course you have seasons.”

“It’s not a stupid question.” He sat down in the cool grass opposite Cara. “Temperatures on L’eihr would fluctuate with the planet’s rotation if we didn’t manipulate the climate.”

She leaned in his direction, eyes wide. “You control the weather?”

“Of course. That shouldn’t surprise you.”

“Well, what do I know about L’eihr? There’s not much information out there.”

“That’s the point of the exchange. And humans are fairly close to achieving climate control. I’d say within the next two hundred years.”

“Or sooner, if your scientists decide to share the secret.” She smiled and plucked a blade of grass from the ground.

“Perhaps. You never know.” Everything had a price. The cancer cure had served its purpose, and he was certain humans would do just about anything for more of L’eihr’s technology. In fact, his Elders were counting on it, the shortsighted fools.

“So tell me about your weather. I’ll bet it’s sunny and warm every day.” She swept the blade of grass absently back and forth across the side of her calf, and for an inexplicable reason, Aelyx’s breath caught at the top of his lungs.

“Not quite.” Glancing at Cara again, he trained his eyes on hers, away from her body. “We maintain a mild tempera­ture, around seventy degrees, but we don’t manipulate cloud cover. The main purpose behind our weather control is to prevent destructive storms. Our oceans are larger than yours, so there’s greater potential for damage.”

“How much larger?” she asked. “Is there less land mass?”

“About forty percent less.” L’eihr boasted only two conti­nents, and most of the land remained uninhabited. “But we control urban sprawl, so it’s not an issue.”

“I wish you’d brought pictures. I’ve got no idea what to expect when it’s my turn to come visit you. What’s your planet look like?”

He leaned back and closed his eyes, smiling as he sum­moned his favorite images. “Well, for starters, our sky isn’t blue, it’s gray. The shade changes as the day goes on.”

“Shut up!”

“Pardon?” Had he said something wrong again?

“It’s just an expression,” she said with a wave. “You sur­prised me, is all.”

“Oh. Anyhow, the gases in our atmosphere are differ­ent from Earth’s, which affects the color of our sky. We have three moons, but the third is so small it can only be seen at certain times of the month. And photosynthesis doesn’t exist on L’eihr. Our plants derive nutrients from the air, like your Spanish moss, so there’s no green. Everything is gray and brown. Imagine how Earth’s northern hemisphere looks in the winter. It bears a slight resemblance to L’eihr.”

“Dreary and lifeless?”

Laughter bubbled up from deep within his belly. Gods, her rudeness astounded him sometimes. “I suppose it would seem that way to you.” He glanced at Cara, whose cheeks flushed even more deeply than before. It was hard to believe her red face belonged to the same body as those long, fair legs.

“Sorry, I guess beauty’s subjective, huh?” She grinned sheepishly.

“Well, I guess we both . . .” He trailed off, trying to remember the human expression he’d heard on the television yesterday. “Eat our feet sometimes.”

Judging by the puzzled expression on Cara’s face, he didn’t get it quite right. After a few seconds of reflection, she burst out laughing. “Oh! You mean ‘put your foot in your mouth.’”

“That’s it.” What an odd description for verbally embarrass­ing oneself. “Where did that expression originate, anyway?”

“No idea, but come on.” Still laughing, she gestured toward the house. “We’ll Google it.”

They both rolled to their feet. “It’s too hot out here any . . .”

Aelyx trailed off as Cara accidentally brushed the inside crook of his arm, a touch that was barely a touch at all, and stunned him into silence. If the sunlight in her hair overloaded his senses, it was nothing compared to her casual contact. This time the feeling wasn’t altogether unpleasant, but he chafed one hand over the spot as he strode behind her to the back door.

Four hours and one Google search later, the doorbell rang and he introduced himself to Cara’s prospective mate, Eric. When they shook hands, Eric’s grip was tighter than necessary, his thin lips pressing together in a scowl.

Aelyx studied the human Cara found so enchanting. Eric stood tall for a male of his age, with the sturdy build of an athlete. He seemed intelligent but not on her level. And like Cara, his eyes were blue, but less vivid and much less friendly. Aside from his physical attractiveness, what could have drawn her to a boy like this?

“So.” Eric slid an arm around Cara’s waist and pulled her tightly against him. “How do you like Earth so far?”

Aelyx smirked and wished he could answer truthfully. I loathe your pathetic planet, and I don’t like you any more than you like me. “This is my first experience with interplanetary travel, so it’s a shock, but so far I’m enjoying myself.”

“That’s great,” Eric said, clearly lying. “I’ll see you around school this week. We have a lot of classes together.” In other words, I’ll be watching you.

Suddenly, the front door swung open and a dark, petite female entered, dropping her handbag onto the wood floor. Without offering a greeting or even closing the door behind her, she strode to Cara’s side and locked eyes with Aelyx. Her narrowed gaze swept over him for several awkward seconds before she finally said, “So you’re him.”

“This is Tori.” Cara cleared her throat. “My really rude best friend.”

Now Aelyx understood Cara’s reluctance to celebrate her birthday—all her companions despised him. An unexpected swell of compassion stretched his rib cage as he watched her face blanch. His peers would undoubtedly object in a similar way if he’d brought her to one of their social gatherings, and like Cara, he’d feel torn between his duty to her and loyalty to his friends.

Maybe he could help. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tori. Cara’s told me—”

“Save it.” She rolled her dark eyes. “We’re cool, but I’ve got a lot of questions for you.”

“Who wants cake?” Cara asked in an unnaturally high-pitched voice. “Red velvet!”

“Which reminds me.” Aelyx played along, reaching into his back pocket. “I have a present for you.” He handed her the silvery pouch with the necklace inside. “Happy birthday.”

She tilted her head while her mouth formed a perfect oval. “You didn’t have to do this.” Her smile sent an unexpected ripple of pleasure through his belly, definitely worth the thir­teen credits he’d spent.

When she opened the drawstring and lifted the black cord from inside, her eyes widened. “Is this from L’eihr?”

“Yes, it’s called an ahib. A common gem in the same ‘dreary and lifeless’ colors of my home.” He flashed a teasing grin, darting a glance at Eric, whose jaw clenched so tightly he’d probably just cracked several molars.

“There’s nothing dreary about this.” She held the cord to the light, watching the dangling stone cast gray and beige sparkles across the back of her hand. “It’s amazing. I love it.” She unfastened the clasp and started to put it on.

“Yowza.” Tori bounced back and punched Eric in the shoulder. “What’d you get her?”

Eric grabbed Cara’s wrist, halting her movement. “She can’t keep that.”

“What?” As Cara froze in place, the dangling pendant swung to and fro, throwing tan prisms against the wall. She jerked from his grip. “I sure as hell can!”

“Dude, what’s your problem?” he asked Aelyx. “You don’t buy jewelry for someone else’s girlfriend!”

Aelyx shrugged and glanced from person to person for guidance. Finding none, he asked Cara, “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” she declared, almost defiantly.

“Then I don’t see the problem,” he told Eric. “The fact that you purchased an inferior gift hardly seems like any fail­ing on my part. It’s common knowledge that shiny rocks are preferred among human females.”

That rendered everyone speechless. While Aelyx stood there wondering if he’d put his foot in his mouth again, Eric cupped his palm over Cara’s lower back and guided her to the opposite side of the small living room.

Eric glared at him in silence as if waiting for something.

“Would you like some privacy?” Aelyx asked.

“Nah,” Eric drawled. “Why don’t you come closer so you can watch?”

“I’d prefer not to.” He glanced at Cara.

“It’s fine. Just give us a minute, okay?”

“Of course.” Aelyx joined Tori in studying the black-framed photos peppering the wall, but faces and landscapes blurred into obscurity as his attention remained focused on the argument brewing six feet away.

“I said I’d give it a try,” Eric whispered harshly, “and I did. I’m not putting up with him for the rest of the year. He’s gotta go.”

“Well, you didn’t try very hard.”

“He’s. Gotta. Go.”

“Maybe you should go.” Was it his imagination, or did Cara’s voice tremble on the last word?

A soft rustling of fabric sounded from behind, and when Aelyx turned, it was just in time to watch Cara disappear down the hallway with Eric towing her by the shirtsleeve in a rough manner. Before he thought better of it, he started after them, but Tori brought him to his senses with a quick tug of his own T-shirt.

“Don’t.” She chewed the end of her braid and stood on tiptoe, darting a glance around his shoulder toward Cara’s bedroom. “Maybe she’ll really do it this time.”

“Do what?”

“Dump the pendejo.”

Aelyx hadn’t studied Spanish as thoroughly as English, so he didn’t understand her last word. However, the sentiment behind it was clear. The narrowed glares Tori had fired at Eric showed she loathed the insufferable dolt even more than he did.

Several minutes of silence passed between them before Eric tore into the hallway and continued straight out the front door, slamming it behind him without a backward glance.

When Cara padded silently into the living room blotting her eyes with a tissue, Tori bolted across the room to embrace her. Arms encircled waists in a tangle of contrasting dark and ivory limbs as the girls clung to each other. Aelyx felt he should contribute in some way, but he knew nothing about the emotional distress of human females.

“I can bring him back,” he said. “I’m not sure why you partnered with a male like that, but I can find a way to toler­ate him if it’s what you want.”

“No,” she said while scrubbing away a tear. “Let him go.” Cara seemed to recover quickly. She made her way into the kitchen, where she devoured two slices of cake. There were no more tears. If anything, her laughter seemed a bit too loud. But when she returned to the living room to fasten her neck­lace, her fingers shook, and she couldn’t manage the task.

“Can I help?” he offered.

She gave him the necklace and turned to gather her thick red waves. Aelyx approached her bare neck with cau­tion, though he couldn’t discern why. Something about the warmth from her body and the citrusy scent of her shampoo unnerved him, and he accidentally snagged a lock of her hair three times before fastening the clasp. Careful to avoid further contact, he moved back into his own safe space and told her, “All done.”

She spun around and touched her chest to straighten the necklace, then pulled the crumpled tissue across her nose, giving him a small smile. “Thanks. It really is beautiful.”

Aelyx averted his eyes. A knot lodged deep in his belly when he considered what his plans would do to Cara. Judging by the set of Tori’s stiff, folded arms and her avoidance of his gaze, Cara would lose her closest friend next. But what could he do? The fate of one human paled in comparison to the fate of an entire planet, especially one as extraordinary as L’eihr.

“It’s only a common pebble,” he said, more harshly than he’d intended. “But I’m glad you like it.”

Then he left her with a flicker of confusion behind her eyes as he returned to his room for the evening.