Page 6 of My Alien Bughead
Mechanical things are easy to fix. There’s always a loose wire, a damaged cog, or a faulty block of code. Every time I repair or build something, I get a rare few seconds of happiness. Of feeling that maybe I’m not a complete failure. That I’m good for something, after all. Even though I couldn’t fix the one thing that mattered most to me. I couldn’t save Mzr.
I’ve gone over her death a million times. Logically, I know I did everything I could have. I tried my best, did everything I was supposed to do. I followed the first aid steps to the letter.
She still died. Because I couldn’t fix her.
As I angrily wipe away the tears rolling down my cheeks, I realize I do know the answer to Zarkan’s question.
The last time I slept? Sixty-three days ago. The night before the only female I’ve ever loved died in my arms.
Chapter 4
Lucía
Seeing me tumble down,the woman gasps. “Oh my god!” She rushes over to me. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“Only my pride,” I reply, the excitement of meeting another human warring with embarrassment. Talk about terrible first impressions! Picking myself up from the ground, I wipe my hands over my coveralls. Somehow making my palms even dirtier.
I can’t help but stare at the two human women in front of me. The one who asked if I was hurt is a short redhead with shoulder length straight hair. The second one is taller, her skinan amazing shade of mahogany and her hair a wild mane of black curls.
They’re both clean, well-dressed, and beautiful. For the first time in years, I’m ashamed of my appearance.
A tall Syndoran is accompanying the women. His tail is protectively wrapped around the redhead’s waist and he’s constantly looking around, as if assessing for threats. His behavior is either really sweet and protective, or downright creepy, depending on whether the women are with him willingly or not. Neither of them wears a slave collar, though, nor do they act subservient in any way, so there’s a good chance they’re free like me.
My blush deepens as I realize I’ve been gawking at them all for a little too long. “Sorry,” I chuckle nervously. “I know I’m staring but I haven’t seen another human in four years. Honestly, I never thought I’d see one again and now there’s two of you. On Alevvo station, of all places!”
The dark-skinned woman smiles. “I know what that feels like. I gawked at Astra when I saw her for the first time as well. And the only reason we’re not also gasping in surprise is because the locals have already told us there’s a human living here. If they hadn’t, Astra would be squealing and throwing herself at you already.”
The redhead, Astra, playfully hip-checks the taller woman. “Oh, shut up, Nala. I did not throw myself at you when I met you.”
“Yeah.” Nala rolls her eyes. “Because you thought I was an enemy spy and had me locked up in the brig. Otherwise you totally would have.”
“She’s right, myMyále,” the Syndoran chimes in, showing off his sharp teeth in a wide grin. “You hug strangers a lot.”
I chuckle to mask my surprise. He just called her his mate, which means they’re definitely not slaves or prisoners. Thewave of relief that washes over me is so strong it helps me overcome the last vestiges of embarrassment and find my usual confidence.
So what if I’m all filthy and sweaty? I just got off work. Nobody would bat an eye over it back in my uncle’s garage and nobody will care about it here, either. “It’s amazing to meet a fellow hugger,” I say, smiling at Astra, “but I recommend we wait until I’ve showered and changed first. I’ve spent the past seven hours in a furnace and I’m afraid it shows.”
Nala and Astra exchange a cryptic look. “We heard from the locals that you work here,” Astra says hesitantly. “And we wanted to make sure that…you’realright?” She stresses the last word, watching the locals milling around as she speaks. Since nothing interesting ever happens on the Alevvo station, everyone is more or less subtly listening in to our conversation.
It takes a few seconds to decipher the meaning behind her words. “If you’re asking me if I’m here of my volition, then yes.” I tug down the front of my coveralls to reveal my neck. “No collar, see?”
Nala’s smile turns solemn. “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” she says. “There are other ways to enslave people that don’t involve collars.”
The pain in her voice suggests there’s a terrible story attached to that sentiment but I don’t ask for details. I doubt it’s the kind of story one discusses with strangers.
I reach out to comfort her, drawing my hand back when I realize how dirty my hands are. “I know there are but I can assure you, I chose to be here. The UGC got me this job, along with the necessary education, money, and pretty much a whole new life. But thank you for making sure I am free. It means a lot. Actually, I ran over here to ask you the same thing but I can see it’s unnecessary?”
I phrase my statement into a question, glancing cautiously at the Syndoran. Astra takes his hand and smiles before answering me. “It is. Tareq and his team actually rescued me from the aliens who kidnapped me. They’re the good guys, so you don’t have to worry about us. And likewise, thank you for asking.”
“I have to buy some clothes for my daughter,” Nala says, “but I’d love to talk some more. Can we meet up later?”
A daughter? These people don’t cease to surprise me. “Oh, we’ll be seeing each other a lot,” I say as I remember the reason I was delayed on my way to take a shower. “I’m supposed to help you fix your ship.”
“You are the technician Captain Zarkan hired?” Tareq asks, cocking his brow in disbelief.
“Yep. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” I’m not surprised he doesn’t have faith in my abilities.
To his credit, Tareq starts apologizing even before Astra elbows his stomach. “I meant no disrespect. I know humans are highly intelligent, I just didn’t think I’d meet one proficient in advanced engineering. I’m happy to have you around.” He hesitates. “Our technician won’t be, though. He’s set on doing everything himself and he’s…well, not in a good place at the moment. He might be a little rude to you.”
