Page 27 of Invasive Species
“Arabella. Arra-bella,” I stress to them. “Use my name, please.”
He gulps. “I will, Arra-bellah female.”
Close enough. I nod, but then my legs start to shake. Holy fuck, I just faced off against four massive aliens, one with a scary weapon, like it was nothing.
But I have to make my point. “I want you all to realize, we don't do stuff like this here. You can talk back to me all you want; words won't hurt me. You've been really non-threatening so far so I kind of trust you, at least a little bit, and hopefully you've seen we don't order you to do ridiculous things.” My cheeks burn in the cold air. “Apart from design changes. Uh.”
Gara shakes his head once. “It's not the same as on Oloria,” he states quietly. He’s looking at me, but I'm sure his words are for his friends.
I nod quickly. “Right, it's different here. I wish you could read my mind, see how it is?—”
“I can,” one of the triplets says. I swear their eyes were all purple a second ago, but his are gray now, so this must be Nevare. “I can read your thoughts, if you consent.”
“Uh, sure.” I mean, I don't have anything to hide, and it honestly sounds really cool. What will it feel like?
A cool gliding sensation skates over my forehead and back over my scalp toward the nape of my neck, and I shiver like a chill just raced up my spine.
The alien’s eyes bug out, and he quickly backs away. “What… what is happening in there?”
“What’s wrong?”
He passes a shaky hand over his face. “Impressions,sensations… all one priority. No order, no filter, just a bombardment. The wind, the rain, the hardness under your soles, the scratch of the gown…”
Gara stands a little closer to me, radiating heat. Suddenly the chill lessens. Right, I’m standing barefoot in the rain in a dressing gown.
I try to understand what he’s talking about. “Uh… oh. That’s my ADHD, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. Except it should really be called attention overload, because, like, everything comes at me all at once, and when I’m tired it’s hard to know what to prioritize. At least, that’s my experience.”
The triplets exchange a glance. It’s unreadable, but Dom’s hands bunch into fists.
I wrap my dressing gown tighter, properly feeling the cold now and letting it do its icy thing where it helps me narrow down to one thing at a time. “If you can’t read me, then we’ll just have to go on as we have been doing, with trust and trial and error. And no hurting each other, got it?”
They bash their fists into their chests with a crash. “Yes, Arra-bellah female!”
I wince at the noise. “Right, good, okay. Gara, come with me, I’ll fix you up.”
With each step across the yard my legs get shakier and shakier. Gara doesn't seem affected, but his gaze slides to me, watchful as ever.
As soon as we pile into the kitchen, I flick on the kettle, snatching at mugs to prepare something sugary to counterattack the massive dump of adrenaline coursing through my system. I jump on my toes to try to get to the clean ones up in Ellen’s tall cabinet.
Gara reaches past me and picks one down smoothly, his heat so close to my back it’s like it’s pressing against me.
“Thanks,” I say. “Grab one for yourself too.”
He stills for a moment, as if debating whether he can disobey.
I sigh. “I'd like to make you a hot chocolate, not poison you or anything, and… I want to help with your back.”
“It’s not an issue, my nanites have healed all lacerations already.”
I wince at lacerations. “Still, there's, like, blood and stuff to wash off.” I dump several heaping scoops of chocolate powder into my mug and whisk the hot water in, then take a scalding sip. “Ow. See? Not poison.”
“But still painful, evidently.” Gara gets down another mug, then backs away to the kitchen table.
I make him a hot chocolate, my hands calmed by the familiar routine of wrapping around a hot mug, and set it in front of him. “Okay, I'm going to take a look.”
“Don't trouble yourself.” He sits stiffly.
“It's no trouble, let me fuss over you.” I peer around him.
