The Alien's Handler

“Consider it vaulted.” She lets out a long sigh and gets serious. “Look, I’m only half-calling to bust your balls. I needed to tell you about that Alliance conversation because there’s no telling how these guys will react if their planet has been compromised. It’s my recommendation that you get his horny ass back here— and YES, I am still here— so that his team is together for whatever news this probe is going to bring us.”

“He’s sleeping like a rock. Can it wait a bit longer?” My chest pangs at the thought of waking my peaceful alien and seeing his face turn back to stony look of guilt and self-hatred.

“Oh, so you wore him out?”

“Jen,” I protest.

“Who’s go

“Jen,” I plead. “This poor guy is so emotionally constipated sometimes I think his head will explode. He told me… this horrible, sad story of what he’s been through in the war and I’m pretty sure it’s the first time he’s even spoken about it. Now, he’s finally relaxed and asleep. You want me to wake him up and tell him his planet may very well be under enemy occupation?”

“You sound suspiciously like someone who is infatuated,” she says flatly. “Which I’m going to ignore, because I’m assuming you understand how stupid it would be to get attached to him. Right? Right. Great. Glad we’re on the same page. Let him rest, and then get his gray ass over here.”

“Fine,” I mutter. “Bye, Jen.”

I don’t want to risk waking him by traipsing through my room and making noise in the bathroom. So, I thank my slobby tendencies and find my discarded sweater and jeans behind the couch. I eat leftover Chinese takeout and settle into my usual Sunday line-up: a good book, noise-canceling headphones, and my feet up on the coffee table. But unlike my usual Sunday, my mind wanders over recent memories. I find myself replaying Kila’s words and envisioning the look on his face when he came inside me. The plot of my book is not quite enough to distract from the growing feeling that I am as infatuated as Jen accused me of being. More than infatuated— I am hurtling, falling, veering into dangerous territory.

***

KILA

When I open my eyes, I feel as though I’m floating above the clouds. My chest feels light as air, and all I see is white fluff.

Ah, I recall now. I am in Ella’s bed, surrounded by pillows. I have half a mind to demand just what one human female needs with so many pillows. She only has one head, after all. I wonder if she keeps them because she anticipates male partners. This riddles me with jealousy, but she has even far more pillows than two lovers could need, so I quickly push that fear aside. It’s the mania of having her and yet not knowing everything about her. I do not think she’ll appreciate it if I interrogate her on her prior sexual partners. In time, maybe I will know. But time… I do not know if I have much time.

I punch one of the i

I stare up at her ceiling. This is where she lays every night. If I remove our mating bond, will she lay here and think of me, long for me? This is all assuming that such a thing could ever be removed. The way my heart pounds harder just by conjuring an image of her… I wonder if this could even be stopped by my suppressor after what we have done. I roll out of the bed, mourning the absence of her warmth.

It does not take long to find her in this small living space. She is on her couch with a huge headset on and a book hiding her face from me. I slide in next to her, and she smiles at the sight of me.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she coos, pulling the headset from her ears and letting it rest on her shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“I am well,” I say. “Are you working here while I rest?”

She blinks. “Working?” She holds up the book and laughs. “This is a story. It’s just for fun. Not work. There’s nothing informative in here.”

“A story? In a book? How strange,” I comment.

“It’s pretty normal on Earth,” she shrugs. “There’s tons. Millions.”

“What is the story?” I ask, just wishing to hear her talk.

“There’s a wizard without a heart, and young girl that gets turned into an old woman. She lives with the wizard in his magical castle that moves around while she tries to break the spell,” she says.

“Very strange,” I murmur, trying to understand. “How does he live without a heart?”

“Well, it’s a book with magic so that’s part of it. It’s not literal. I’ve seen a movie of this story, and I liked it so now I am reading the book,” she explains.

“You are telling me that you already know the end? Why read it?”

She laughs even harder at that comment, though I am perplexed. She slips a piece of paper in it and sets it down on the low table in front of her. “I think any book worth reading had better be more interesting than just finding out what happens at the end. Books are about feeling what the characters are feeling. Experiencing it through their eyes.”

“How does it end, then? Does the girl turn young again and fix the wee-zard’s heart?” I am enjoying the way her eyes glisten as she tells me about it. I creep closer and run my hand over the back of her head, caressing the soft dark strands of hair.

“Yes,” she says. “The girl finds out that he traded his heart to a demon for magical power. And when she gets it back for him, the demon breaks her spell for good. And, of course, they fall in love.”

“And what does this mean, ‘fall in love’?” I wonder aloud. The way the words are translating, it sounds like they have fallen into pleasure. “Is this like mating? Another Earth phrase?”

The light of laughter in her eyes fades. “There’s no translation for love in your language?”

“This word translates to pleasure,” I say. “It is different than this? Different from mating? Similar to your word ‘happy’, perhaps?”

She looks utterly distraught, like I have insulted her. But then she says, “Never mind that.”

“I see I have upset you,” I sigh. “What can I do? You don’t wish to explain it to me?”

“There aren’t any words to explain it. You just have to feel it. It’s more than lust and happiness. It’s something all its own.” As she tells me this, her eyes fill up with water again briefly. I am afraid she is going to start leaking from them and become very sad again, but just as quickly as they appear she wipes them away. “Jen called me. We have to go back to the facility immediately. I told her we’d come when you woke up. They … they’re worried Kar’Kal is in serious trouble.”

I nod. I gathered this much from the first moment Pakka and I discussed the possibility that my chip was malfunctioning. I point at the book. “You said this will explain the feelings of the girl and her wee-zard. I will take it and study it, so I can understand for you.”

“You want to do that?” she asks, her eyebrow arching up.

“I can tell that ‘love’ is important to you. It is the least I can do to be familiar with this concept,” I insist. “You have learned many parts of my culture already. Even though you do not like some of them.”

She clucks her tongue. “You got that right. Well, it’s cute that you want to do that. But there’s a lot in here that will really go over your head.”

I scoff. “Ella, I have advanced scores in experimental biology and biotechnology, among other things.”

She rolls her eyes. “Well, Big Head, you don’t know shit about wizards and fairy tales. I’m going to give you the movie, if that’s all right by you.”

“Of course,” I agree, amused by her exclamation.

“Get dressed while I find it so we can go. Otherwise Jen is probably going to come hunt us down by herself.”

I chuckle, knowing that particular female could make quite the frightening pursuer if provided the right weaponry.