The Alien's Handler

“We would like to test you as well, if that’s alright,” Kiva says politely. “I am so very sorry that this has happened to you Ella-vi. I can’t imagine what you think of us.”

“Yes, that’s fine, I don’t mind,” I tell him. Mori is currently in the box, lying down while Pakka processes the computer’s readings. “And it’s not anything to apologize for. In fact, I don’t see what all the fuss is about. Kila was very kind to me when he expressed his attraction. I’ve had human men scream at me from the other side of the street, so I’m not sure why Kila has to be locked up.”

“Scream at you?” he repeats, bewildered. “In an attempt to mate with you? And you still feel safe walking down the street?”

“I can’t very well stay in my house forever,” I joke.

He shakes his head. “Do these males ever have success with this tactic? Screaming at unknown females in a public space?”

“Probably not.”

He’s perplexed to say the least and turns to scribble this as a note on his tap-pad. “Then why do they do it, I wonder…”

“Look, Kiva,” I say, lowering my voice. “You guys weren’t hard on him, were you?”

“I am not sure what this means. Hard on him?”

“You weren’t mean, right?” I ask, ru

“There are no hurting of feelings on Kar’Kal, Ella-vi. Kila is not well, and we are going to fix him,” he states as though this were the simplest fact in the world.

“And Kila, he accepted the fact that he has to stay inside until he can get fixed?”

Kiva looks uncomfortable as he attempts to process what I’m getting at. “No,” he admits. “He was angry, but that is because he unwell. He is not in his right mind.”

I purse my lips and let it go before I make the guy sweat. I sit back and watch as the rest of the Kar’Kali take their turns in the box. By the end of the day, they’ve analyzed the read-outs twenty times over and have come to the conclusion that none of their suppressors are working. While Kila’s levels are the only wild ones in the bunch, none of their hormones are being suppressed at the low level that their home system expects. They all act as though they’ve received a death threat from the mafia.

“Ella, you must now be the only woman we encounter,” Pakka says once they’ve come to terms with the facts. “Considering the Kali’Ka has clearly marked you as Kila’s mate, I can assume the four of us are safe in your presence. Please notify Jen that we ca

His teammates are nodding their heads. “Woah woah woah,” I say. “What do you mean? Marked? As mate?”

“I’m sorry, but the damage has been done. Kila is obviously experiencing the ancient mating call. And you are his mate. In fact, Mori, get your tap-pad now and message him an update assuring him that we will be ru

I breathe in through my nose to make sure oxygen is still getting to my brain. “What? WHAT?!”

“In fact,” he adds, ignoring my sudden panic. “Call the security center and ask if they can have a guard posted at our building. He might even now be pla

Mori chuckles. “One guard? Do you forget that Kila was once left behind by forces in an Azza mining city and managed to return to Kar’Kal by crossing their desert, stealing a shipping freighter on the opposite side of the planet, and then bombing their base to down their mission control?”

Pakka pauses. “As many guards as they will spare.”

“Hold it!” I shout. “You are really skipping the part where you just accept the fact that I’m Kila’s mate?”

“What did you think was happening?” Mori asks, like I’m an idiot. “Did you think that we lied about our planet’s history? This is why we are who we are. Without the suppressor, Kila will stop at nothing to be with you. If you had a human mate, they may as well find another. That is what we are telling you. He is a Deviant now, and you’re his breeding mate.”

“Mori!” Kiva hisses. “You are scaring her.”

“Just send her home now,” Vala suggests. He tilts his head at me. “Go ahead, go home, and hope we have solved this by Monday.”

“That is a fine idea,” Pakka agrees. “Go and rest, Ella.”

“Right,” I manage to say. “I’ll see you on Monday. Just… tell Kila I hope he feels better.”

They react to this statement as though I’ve grown five heads, and simply mumble their goodbyes as I pack up my bag and leave.

Leaving before the commuter rush means I have to face the crowd of protesters in the parking lot alone. On the bright side, they are pretty low energy in the face of one person exiting the building. As I pass their signs, one particular message jumps out at me like its written in flashing neon letters. It says, “ALIEN FUCKERS”. I bow my head and walk as quickly as I can across the parking lot to the transport wait station. I am about to make it when I hear someone calling to me: “Ella! Ella, is that you?”

I whip around and squint at the eager face in the crowd. “Vic?”

There among the crazy conspiracy theorists and desperate alien-haters is Vic Williams, a guy who went to my high school and used to be friends with my brother. It’s strange to see him with a mustache and beard. He’s holding a sign that says, “Government Subsidized Dissection.”

“Hey Ella, how’s it going? You work at this dump?”

Well, that’s aggressive. I anxiously glance over my shoulder to make sure the next bus hasn’t arrived. “It’s not a dump,” I say. “And yeah, I do.”

The rest of the crowd runs back to the entrance when three more workers emerge, but Vic stays to subject me to more awkward small talk. “What do you do in there?” he asks. “You wouldn’t be willing to be interviewed, would you? Anything freaky going on?”

I want to say, Why, yes! In fact, I’ve just been selected by a mysterious planet spirit as bride-to-be for a virgin Spock from a warrior race who’s about to Hulk out from his spiking hormone levels! Instead I just shrug and say, “Not really, Vic… I just help some alien species navigate Earth situations. You know, grocery stores and ordering equipment on the Internet. Real eyebrow-raising shit.”

He doesn’t hide his disappointment. “If you ever encounter something suspicious, you should contact me. You need to keep your eyes open in there, Ella. You might think it’s i

“I’m sure it’s not like that—”

“Ah, you’ve always been too nice. But I know these guys, they called themselves the Exile Squad, and they’ve been collecting loads of information on the secret goings on around here. They’d be real interested to talk with you. They do exposé interviews.”

“Exile Squad? Sounds like a bad 80’s action film,” I mutter.

He shrugs. “You know, you look really great. Did I say that before? I still see your brother around but how come he’s never mentioned you? Because he’s hiding you from me?”

I don’t say anything because I know where he’s going with this and I don’t want to encourage it.

“Why don’t we, uh, get together sometime?”

“Sorry, Vic, I gotta catch a bus,” I say when I hear the hissing sounds of the transport. I’ve never been so thankful for the smell of a waste-powered metal box full of un-washed bodies. I rush on and grab a seat. I peer at the security center and the guards that pace up and down the perimeter of the research facility. They all look calm, chatting in pairs like normal. At least Kila is safely contained in the complex. If what they told me about him is true, I hope to God he won’t hurt himself doing something crazy.