Page 21 of Whoops-A-Mate From Outer Space
“Thank you, I will.”
“You do know that makes it my job to introduce you to all the Earth things that you’re unfamiliar with, right? Horrible movies, even worse music, those recreational sports that everybody thinks they’re better at than they are.”
His eyes lit up and he wore the biggest smile I’d ever seen. “You would show me these things?”
I blinked. “Of course. But… nobody’s just… hung out with you?”
He deflated slightly. “Myself and the other Lalyllte here have made attempts to socialize with humans. However, we have found our presence can be… I believe the word ‘overwhelming’ is suitable.”
“I’m sorry. That must be lonely. I’ve only seen a handful of your kind around.”
He nodded. “It is isolating. However, we do not wish to bring too many yet, as each one of us here now increases the chances of unplanned matings.”
“I see,” I started, then paused, and finally decided to dive in. “About that… It’s ok if you don’t want to answer, but… you never looked for another mate?”
His expression turned sad again. “Although it is not unheard of, it is rare for Lalyllte to find second mates after losing their first. Some speculate that this is due to our dwindling population and that it was more common in the past.”
He paused and shook his head. “I grieved. For many years, I woke up every day longing to find him nestled in my arms. However, as time passed, the pain lessened. I know I will feel his absence until my final breath, but I eventually gave myself permission to move on. I opened myself back up to possibility and decided that if another mate was in my future, then I would embrace them as tightly as I had my Naqoi.”
“Was that his name, Naqoi?”
He nodded.
“Tell me about him?”
He smiled wistfully. “He was kind and gentle. I believe you would describe his color as pale orange. His passion was farming, and he worked long shifts on one of the local farms.”
“Did he manage it?”
Eashai chuckled. “No. His connection was to the plants and the land. He could never quite get all the dirt from under his fingernails.” He paused. “He was offered a chance to manage multiple times, but he chose to remain what you would call a farmhand.”
“You have a different word for it?”
He cocked his head to one side. “Our term… honors… the role in a different way. It is demanding work, and vital to feed our people. Even with robotic assistance, manual labor is still important.”
He sighed. “Most of us… disagree… with the sentiment that some work is lesser. There are jobs that further the species, some that add to the tapestry of existence, and those that need to be done. None is more or less important than another. I would be unable to do my work if another man was not focused on feeding our people. And he knows that there are those like me working to make life better for his children and grandchildren. Both of our lives are enriched by the people fueled by creativity, who are allowed those freedoms by our work in return.”
“So everybody gets paid the same?”
He laughed. “In a fashion. There are incentives to push oneself, but we learned long ago that everybody is happier and more productive if basic needs are met. It allows our people tofind their own potential, rather than tying them to a job they might not thrive in just to live.”
I sighed. “I wish more humans had that mindset.”
“It is not a position that many species come to easily, especially when money was an early development of society. There is a strong likelihood that it is a struggle we would have shared if not for the Lalylltiar.”
“You inherited more than genetic traits and technology,” I mused.
“We did,” he chuckled. There was a beat of silence, then, “May I ask you a question, Gene?”
“Of course.”
“Are women your preferred choice of mate?”
“What?” I choked on air, wondering where the question came from.
“Apologies,” he replied. “That was personal.”
I laughed. “It’s fine. It just took me by surprise. Why do you ask?”
