Page 2 of The Alien in the Archive

I wasn’t always psychic—in fact, it’s a very recent development—and for the past year, I’ve been hearing things. Thoughts that don’t belong to me. Even now, I can hear it, the thoughts coming across more clearly than my own language ever could.

Hungry.

Late.

Annoyed.

I press my nails into my palm and try to block it out, but it’s like trying to ignore sunlight.

“Okay,” Riley says, cutting through the noise. “This place is pretty sick.”

“Finally excited?” I ask, glancing up at him.

“Being on solid ground helps.”

“You’ll have to get over it,” I say. “The library has over a hundred floors. Unless you’re planning tolivein the basement, elevators are your new best friend.”

Riley mutters something under his breath, but I’m already distracted. Around us, the plaza hums with life: stalls selling rare books, alien street food sizzling on grills, holographic scrolls glowing on display. My stomach growls, but I ignore it. I’m too busy soaking it all in. A floating kiosk drifts past, dispensing steaming cups of spiced mead. Above, elevators zip between towers, leaving trails of light like shooting stars.

It hits me all at once: we’re here. We’re really here.

For years, Riley and I dreamed about leaving Earth, about coming to M’mir. We worked ourselves to exhaustion—me in history, him in engineering—just for the chance to be part of this. And now, we’re standing at the heart of the galaxy’s greatest library, with the galaxy’s collective knowledge at our fingertips.

“Which way to reception?” Riley asks.

I glance at the notes scribbled on my palm. “This way.”

We weave through the crowd, past merchants hawking star charts and students debating ancient constellations. The psychic noise presses in again, like a tide of whispers, and I grit my teeth.

Get it together,I tell myself.You can’t let this ruin everything.

Ahead, the plaza narrows into a walkway flanked by fountains. Water cascades into tunnels below, glittering in the greenish sunlight.

Riley whistles. “This is insane.”

“Wait until you see the archives.” I grin. “This is just the surface.”

The market’s chaos recedes as we approach the Reception Hall, a towering structure of black stone and glass. Inside, the room buzzes with activity. Students and scholars of all species crowd sleek counters, some clutching glowing ID cards.

A Skoll woman greets us at the desk. Her silver skin glints in the light, her crystalline antlers hung with delicate chains. “Welcome to M’mir,” she says, her voice warm. The words are scrambled for a moment as my translator catches up. “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” I reply. “Patience and Riley McRae. We’re here to check in.”

The Skoll tilts her head, a golden hologram shimmering before her. The text shifts into English, matching the rhythm of my translator. “You’re meeting with Professors Davina Ferhalda and Kaelion Rhyss, correct?”

“That’s us,” I say.

“Your supervisors will be waiting for you,” she says. “Riley, head straight ahead to Engineering. Patience, you’ll need to take the central lift system to the Obscuary.”

“Ah…the Obscuary.” Riley raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t that the spooky place you haven’t shut up about for the past ten years?”

I give him a sidelong glance. “It’s where thebestdusty old books are.”

The Skoll hands us translucent ID cards etched with glowing runes. “These will grant you access to your quarters and resources. Don’t lose them.”

“Me? Lose an ID card? Never,” Riley promises with an affable grin.

That’s a lie. He willdefinitelylose it at least once.

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