Page 48 of Whoops-A-Mate From Outer Space
The general intrigue around me lasted several days—random soldiers I’d never met approached me to ask what it was like. Then it died down again, and we returned to business as usual.
Mostly, anyways.
Maybe it was because some part of me was aware of the inevitable flow of time. Soon enough, I’d be leaving the base to return to my life as a professor. But part of me was convinced it was regret that I had been unable to learn all I’d wanted to about Eashai’s world—so I was determined to introduce him to Earth even more than I had before.
We added two shows to our watchlist—sitting down together to watch them in my room, where the Army had been polite enough to provide basic cable. Then we’d discuss whatever he wanted to learn about them.
We also spent more time in the recreational area. He still struggled with tennis, but was quickly becoming adept at pool and darts.
It was strangely idyllic. I spent my days doing interesting work that I loved, and most evenings with a man who’d quickly become my best friend.
But as oppressive summer heat settled among the trees, and even shade provided little relief, I was painfully aware that I’d spent more days on the base than I had left. The time to make my decision was quickly approaching.
“You have been quiet today,” Eashai stated as we strode from the mess toward the rec building.
“Sorry,” I replied. “Just thinking.”
He nudged my shoulder with his, then pointed to one of the picnic tables that we frequented. “Do you wish to talk? I believe we have some time before our scheduled turn at the pool table.”
I considered, then nodded. “That… sounds nice.”
We took a seat at the table, and I was glad for the shade, even if it didn’t help much with the heat.
“What is troubling you?” he asked after several seconds.
I sighed. “I’ve been here six weeks.”
There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. “That seems to match my estimate.”
I rested my elbows on the table, wincing slightly at the heat against my skin, then I hung my head. “That means I only have two weeks left to decide.”
“Decide?”
I groaned, let out a long breath, leaned back slightly, and stared at the sky. “I agreed to stay for eight weeks. Then I’d have to know whether I planned to stay longer or if I was going back to the university. If I’m leaving, I’ll spend another two weeks training my replacement.”
The silence was so long that I looked back to see a devastated expression on Eashai’s face.
“Eashai…” I said softly.
He blinked several times, then shook his head. “I understood your time here was limited. I did not realize that you would be leaving so soon.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted. “Being here is something most scientists could only dream of. But…” I scrubbed a hand down my face. “I don’t know how long I’ll be needed, and I can’t put my career in jeopardy. If I’d had more time to prepare, I would have been able to do things in a way that wouldn’t piss people off, at least not as much. I could have asked for a proper leave of absence. I could have worked with other professors to take over my classes for a semester or two. But I was given less than two days. That was barely enough time to let people know I’d be away for the summer.”
I stood and started pacing. “Students have already signed up for my fall classes. Some of which are required for graduation. If I decide to stay, that means the university and my department will have to scramble to cover for me. On this short of notice, that would upset people and means that when Ididgo back, things would be tense at best. It could cost me the job I’ve worked so hard for.”
“You do not think they would keep you here long enough for this to be your new career?”
I sighed and shook my head. “I just don’t know. Ultimately, this is the military’s project, and that means I’m here at their whim. If they decide they’re done with me, then it’s over.”
“I believe I am starting to understand your dilemma.”
I sat back down with a thud. “If the start of the fall semester wasn’t looming, then I’d stay. It wouldn’t even be a question. If the schedule could easily be rearranged without people getting pissed off, then I’d stay. I have neither of those luxuries. Peopleoutside of this base are counting on me to return to my regular job.”
“What do you want to do?”
I licked my lips. “My wants can’t factor into this. I have to be logical. I can’t just pick up the pieces and move to a new university if I burn bridges. People will want to know what happened, and eventually it’ll come out that I caused issues for the school by ditching my work for a project I can’t talk about. If it were a family emergency or illness it would be a different story, but people wouldn’t take kindly to being told that I can’t talk about the reason I flaked.”
“Staying could truly impact the rest of your career?”
