Page 6 of What Makes an Alien a Dad?

Chapter 3

Maya

Of all the people in the Universe, it was Professor Thormus who had to find me while I was having a meltdown.

The man was the least approachable person I’d ever met. He’d been examining me almost daily for the past five months, but we’d hardly exchanged a handful of words until today. It always felt like being examined by a robot. He’d insert a probe into my vagina, and it’d be like I wasn’t even there. Which was perfect and exactly what I expected from a man who wasn’t my boyfriend looking at my private parts.

But now, my vagina seemed to be the only thing that connected us, which didn’t give us much material for small talk.

At the thought of my boyfriend, Walter’s letter came to mind again, and my eyes watered despite my best efforts.

“Here is your dessert.” Professor Thormus shoved a frosted glass with pink ice milk my way. Peering at me, he appeared even more uncomfortable at the sign of impending tears. “You know what? Just drink it now, before lunch. It’s fine, as a one-time exception.”

I grabbed the glass and took a long drink of the fruity, mildly sweet concoction. It was good and refreshing. The best thing I’d tasted since boarding the spaceship to Neron, not counting the cupcakes I’d smuggled into my apartment yesterday, unbeknownst to the professor.

I studied him over the rim of my glass. He looked worried, his bushy eyebrows close together, his purple eyes glistening intently from under them. How had I not noticed before that his eyes were such a pretty color?

Voranians were gray from head to toe, um...head to hoof. But their eyes came in all possible colors, from lime green to purple and even bright red.

Typical for his species, the professor had charcoal-gray skin. Most parts of him not covered by his crisp, white lab coverall sported thick, gray fur. It was neatly trimmed and styled on his head between his two long polished horns and along his strong jawline. On his face, the fur was so short, it was barely noticeable, lying flat against his nose and prominent cheekbones. The fur thinned on the back of his hands, with his palms left completely furless.

His eyes stood out on his dark-gray face like two bright gems. It was unexpectedly pretty for a man like him.

He flinched under my scrutiny, and I quickly dropped my gaze to my drink, afraid I’d stared at him for too long.

The café drone delivered the rest of our order, two trays with sixteen small indentations, each holding a different piece of food. I liked that about Voranian meals. They never contained just one thing. Voranians preferred variety. Each small portion had its own unique flavor, which made for an exciting experience for my taste buds.

The only problem was that my meal plan didn’t include much variety. Every single tray I’d had lately contained pretty much the same variation of wholesome, nutritious but oh-so-boring items.

I noted with surprise that the professor’s tray held very much the same stuff as mine. It was weird that he would limit himself like this. After all, he wasn’t pregnant with the planet’s most important fetus and could eat anything he liked.

“So, um...” He poked with a narrow utensil at the piece of lean meat in one of the indentations on his tray. “How do you find living in Voran?”

He looked so stiff, his muscles must be cramping. Small talk clearly wasn’t the professor’s forte. It wasn’t mine, either. I would prefer to eat alone, back in my apartment. But since he attempted to be social for my sake, I could do the same.

“It’s good,” I said politely.

He nodded.

We proceeded to eat in silence. In an awkward silence, I might add. Maybe I should just take the food to my apartment and let him go on with his day? He must be busy, with a ton of stuff to do. Unlike me, who had nothing to do at all.

I wasn’t allowed to leave the hospital building, and as huge as the building was, there wasn’t that much to explore. After wandering its halls for five months now, I pretty much knew every nook and cranny of this seventy-six story high-rise. Despite that many floors, all of them looked very much the same.

Lately, I mostly just sat in my apartment, watched Voranian movies, and ate the healthy rations they served me.

Last week, however, I met a nurse on the twenty-seventh floor. She didn’t belong to Professor Thormus’s clinic and didn’t work for him. Unaware of my super strict meal plan, she told me about the place called Earth Girl’s Desserts. Apparently, that was a bakery owned by the first human woman who’d married a Voranian man. She baked cupcakes from local ingredients but managed to make them taste just like those back on Earth. At least that was what the nurse had said.

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