Page 9 of Sky Song
Embarrassed as if she’d accidentally flashed her boob at him, she hedged. “It’s an old nickname I grew up with. I don’t use it anymore. I go by Emma.”
He made a sound deep in his throat that could’ve beenEmmaor it could’ve beenHmm.
“Emma! Hurry!” The shrill holler came from Yanet who gesticulated at them like an aircraft marshaller, inviting them into the rider-bus.
Cricket got in, with Lyle right behind her. The door lowered, Yanet waved at them from the sidewalk, and the rider took off.
The large vehicle wasn’t so large on the inside. Fashioned like a small aircraft - which it could transform into at the push of a button - it had single seats along each side with a narrow aisle in between, and two seats at the very back. Because Cricket and Lyle were the last ones to climb in, they ended up in the back row by default - all the other spots had been taken.
Settling in, Cricket bumped legs with Lyle twice. “Sorry, it’s a bit tight in here.”
He only looked at her, giving another lazy blink of the twinkling midnight eyes.
To give him credit, his bulk didn’t spill over onto her side. He didn’t spread his legs or do any of the unconscious irritating encroachments on her personal space like some men could, thinking they owned this space and everyone in it. She got a feeling he owned the space alright, but he also controlled it - and himself within it.
Despite it, Cricket was almost painfully aware of their shoulders touching. It was awkward, inappropriate. Normally, she wouldn't think twice about it, but something about Lyle made her hyper self-conscious. Worse, he knew their seats were too small for her comfort.
“Are you okay?”
She quickly produced a smile. “Of course! You know, I haven’t gone on a tour like this before. I’m looking forward to it. Just like I’m sure you are.”
Lyle’s light, finely traced eyebrows - another feature that added to his vaguely girlish cute looks - twitched. “I’m so excited.”
The rider’s roof and walls lightened and became panoramic windows. The interpreter invited the group to look out as they slowly passed various architectural wonders.
“You’ll notice that all the buildings look different,” Dr. Nura spoke, and the interpreter translated. “That is because we, people of Meeus, are deeply conscious of our Earth heritage. Our Earth ancestors made a lot of mistakes, but they taught us everything we know. They gave us a foundation on which to create our own perfect world.”
“It’s called history. Every nation has one,” the Levisur commented dismissively, nevertheless looking out at the city-scape with curiosity.
Dr. Nura hid her annoyance well. “You’re absolutely right, and we’re sharing ours with you. One way we honor our history is by recreating architectural styles of the past. It provides visual reminders of how rich our history is and how proud we are of it. This High Court building, for example, is modeled after a temple of Greek gods. Look at the mosaic and the columns.”
“What’s Greek?” asked the Levisur.
Dr. Nura and the interpreter turned toward Cricket, and the entire group of aliens turned toward Cricket as well.
She blinked. “A group of people who hail from an ancient country called Greece,” she answered in Universal. “Their culture exists to this day.”
“What was their culture?” asked the quiet Sakka.
“Well, since we’re in the Greek revival part of Shadush, I can talk a little about it.”
Dr. Nura enthusiastically nodded, encouraging Cricket to continue. She hid it well, but Cricket picked up subtle cues that outed the polished doctor’s fascination with Cricket’s personal history.
Cricket glanced sideways at Lyle as she began to speak, not sure why, just an instinctive quick slant of her eyes. She didn’t need his support, or anyone’s. She didn’t care if he was interested in Ancient Greece. She cared not about his opinion of her as their tour guide, or if he had an opinion at all. Lyle, with his un-Rix body and mild demeanor, was only a passing stranger in her life, except for this point in time where their paths intersected, and they were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in the ridiculously small back seat of a vehicle.
He looked back, and the diagonal slits on his prominent hawkish nose, three on each side, fluttered slightly with an indrawn breath. His earnest, clear eyes, flat and bottomless at the same time, silently encouraged her to continue.
She went to talk about things Greeks had built, surprised and pleased at the depth of her own knowledge. All those lonely nights when mama had to work and Cricket, wheezing from a recent fit of poor health, would rest in bed with old musty encyclopedias for the lack of a more entertaining reading material, had paid off. Good thing she’d read them before the books got used as kindle.
She kept talking, all the while aware of the taut bulk of the Rix to her right, of his thigh where it came into contact with hers every time either of them moved. When he turned her way, the air expelled from those weird gills on his nose gently ruffled her hair -that’show close together they were sitting.
The entire ride around town lecturing aliens on ancient history was a peculiar experience that she couldn’t wait to end and at the same time, didn’t want to.
But endless as it seemed, the ride was soon over as the rider-bus pulled up to the Hall of Knowledge. The aliens alighted from the vehicle, Lyle moved away, and Cricket was free.
The group entered the spacious building. A library official welcomed them, clearly prepared in advance, avidcuriosity concealed rather poorly behind her wrinkle-free, guileless countenance. Several patrons hung back, mouths agape.
“What a neat little temple!” The Gaorz’s booming accented voice broke the reverent hush so intrinsic to libraries. “But why is there no music?”
