by Tasha Black
“You designed that ship?” she asked.
“I was part of a team that designed and stocked it,” he said. “They brought me in because of my work on the bio engineering.”
“What bio engineering?” she asked.
“I was also part of the team that grew the human forms and piloted the technology we used for migration,” he told her.
“That’s… incredible,” she whispered, stealing a glance at him.
He looked as relaxed and regal as usual. She never would have imagined he was a scientist, and certainly not gifted to the point where he would be able to build human bodies from scratch.
“What’s incredible is the human form,” he said softly, shooting her a look that made her think he might have her particular form in mind. “I’ve never seen anything like it. We put together a blueprint to reverse engineer a body. Then we studied the blueprint and it seemed impossible that such a design could sustain life. Even as we assembled the first form it seemed as if it couldn’t function, it wouldn’t be able to walk, to breathe. But… here we are.”
“Here we are,” she echoed, still stunned.
“It’s wonderful to me, that given your fragile, hungry forms, you can accomplish any feat of engineering or art - anything at all beyond survival,” Solo said. “It’s triumphant and terrible at the same time.”
“Hard to watch, huh?” Cecily teased.
“On the contrary,” Solo purred. “It is magical to watch. I find it seductive and tragic and very, very beautiful.”
Cecily felt his words as acutely as if they were his hands caressing her body. She gripped the steering wheel and prayed for deliverance.
“But we were talking about efficiency,” Solo said lightly. “And this is where all the intricate engineering of the human form goes mad. Because although there is efficiency and balance in the machine that is the body, that efficiency does not translate to the actual behavior of humans.”
“What do you mean?” Cecily asked.
“You are hungry and so you eat,” Solo said. “So when you are no longer hungry, you stop eating, correct?”
“I guess so,” Cecily said. “Unless the food is particularly delicious.”
“The taste has nothing to do with the needs of the body,” Solo pointed out. “Too much food can strain the system. But, yes, I learned quickly about the joys of eating certain foods. This can perhaps be labeled a minor original design flaw, too many receptors in the tongue. Not a big deal.”
Cecily laughed. “I guess not.”
“But what about other human inefficiencies?” Solo asked. “Drinking too much alcohol, taking chemicals that damage one’s perception of reality, harming oneself, all of these can be found on Earth.”
“That’s true,” Cecily said, feeling sad for her planetary brothers and sisters for their addictions to be on display for other worlds to notice. “But for many of these there was a design flaw, or maybe a nurturing flaw - some sadness in that particular human’s past that gives them a bent for self-destruction.”
“Is that what happened to you, Cecily? Was there a sadness in your life?” Solo asked.
“I-I’m not an addict,” Cecily explained, horrified. “I probably drink less than most single women my age.”
“I don’t mean an addiction, Cecily,” he said at once. “I mean that you are of age, and yet you deny yourself the pleasure and comfort of a mate.”
Cecily felt her cheeks turn red. She glanced in the rear view mirror to see if the others were listening. But Buck and Bea were wearing headphones and Kate and Kirk were wrapped in each other’s arms, whispering.
“I’m not denying myself anything,” she said quietly. “It’s just not something I want right now.”
“All of the eggs you will ever have were fully formed in your ovaries before you were born,” Solo said. “Prolonging your mating years could make childbearing difficult. Do you not want to rear any young?”
Cecily was at a loss for words.
“Oh no, this is a personal question, isn’t it?” Solo said suddenly. “My apologies, Cecily. It was unmannerly for me to mention it. I did not think of it until it was said.”
She stole another glance at him.
He looked truly regretful.
“It’s fine,” she told him. “You’re allowed to ask me personal questions since we’re friends, though I might not always answer them. But you shouldn’t ask other women that question.”
“I understand,” Solo said. “Thank you for permitting me the indulgence. I am glad we are friends. And of course you do not need to answer.”
She smiled, glad he understood.
“Do you know what is different about this journey than the one that brought me to Earth?” he asked, neatly changing the subject for her.
“I’ll bet a lot of things are different,” she said, laughing.
“Yes,” he agreed. “That is true. But the biggest thing I have noticed so far is that we are traveling through so many towns and villages.”
Cecily looked out the window at the rooftops over the highway. Rows of houses punctuated by fluffy green treetops went on into the distance as far as she could see.
“Most of my journey to Stargazer was light-years of travel through an uninhabited void,” he told her. “We’ve seen more in an hour than I did in all that time.”
“Was it lonely?” Cecily found herself asking.
“It was,” he admitted. “But I did not know it until recently.”
She glanced over at him.
He studied her, his blue eyes solemn.
“So all of this seems like more fun?” she asked, indicating the cars and billboards and rooftops out the window.
“Much more fun,” he agreed. “It is incredible to think that we are at every second passing by a place that someone thinks of as their home.”
“I never thought of that,” Cecily said. “But you’re right - we’re going to pass hundreds of thousands of homes on our trip. And that includes my old home town.”
“We are going to be in the place where you were born?” Solo asked.
“Yes, we’re just passing by the town,” Cecily said. “I don’t live there anymore.”
“I want to see the place where you were a child,” Solo said. “Will we have time to stop there?”
“Uh, I doubt it,” Cecily said. “It’s nothing fancy, just a little village in the Midwest. We’ll probably want to stop in Chicago instead - there are museums there and amazing architecture. You’ll love it.”
“No,” Solo said. “I would much rather see your small Midwest town, Cecily. Let’s stop there.”
“Are you guys talking about stopping?” Buck called from the backseat. “I’m hungry!”
“Me too,” Kate added.
“Okay, okay,” Cecily said, grateful for an opportunity to stretch her legs and cool off from the conversation with Solo. “We’ll look out for something good.”
So much for her thought that time on the road would be a break from their growing attraction.
It seemed that no matter where they went, or how many others were with them, some private connection transported them to an intimate space anyway.
4
Solo
Solo gazed out the window and tried to organize his thoughts.
Since arriving on this planet, and in particular since meeting Cecily, he often found himself overwhelmed with new information and new emotions.
Their intimate conversation, his lapse in good manners, her admission that they would pass through her hometown, all of it washed over him, pulling him under like a stormy ocean.
He gazed past the road and the houses beyond to the blue horizon and took a deep breath.
He had seen Kate do this when she was practicing yoga. And though Cecily laughed at her, Kate had retorted that calming breathing techniques were a valuable way to center the mind.
Solo had tried it last night, alone in the room he used to share with his brothers. And it was true, slow, careful brea
ths had helped him to focus. He hoped it would work now.
He took another deep breath and began.
First he packed away the worries about his rudeness. He was learning that on this lush planet, manners were nowhere near as important as they were on Aerie. Shorter lifespans led to hasty communication. His brothers had learned this quickly, but Solo was more attuned to the old ways of Aerie. It was harder for him, even though he understood it intellectually. After a few breaths, he was able to put the day’s incident aside.
Next, he carefully played back Cecily’s words about mating, so as not to forget them:
I’m not denying myself anything. It’s just not something I want right now.
Those last two words, right now, were a qualifying phrase. They softened the blow of the rest of what she had said, if he understood her properly. She did not want a mate right now. But that could mean she would want one at a later time. The thought pleased him.
He took one last deep breath and let it out slowly as he allowed his mind to explore the idea of seeing the town where Cecily had grown up.
He couldn’t picture it, but the idea was irresistible. He tried to imagine Cecily as a small child, Cecily playing with toys, running up and down street with a red ball, Cecily biting the end of a pencil while doing her homework at the kitchen table.
But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t picture her as a child - he could only envision her shorter.
Thankfully, that wasn’t the reason he wanted to see the place where she had been a nestling. The real reason was that he felt if he could experience the place where she had become who she was now, he might also understand her better. Maybe then he could learn to fill her empty spaces, be the mate she deserved.
She had denied there being a sadness in her past, but he had seen her luscious lips tighten and the slight narrowing of her eyes.
Solo wondered if he could find that wrong in her past, and right it.
“Whoa, what’s that?” Buck cried from the back, distracting Solo from his meditation.
Solo looked out the window to see what Buck was pointing at.
A grassy field led back from the roadside to where the driveway ended at a small metal dwelling whose sign proclaimed it to be The Dino Diner - Home of the Bronto Burger.
The field was populated by a herd of enormous painted metal dinosaurs in various poses.
A Tyrannosaurus rex towered above the others, a ruthless expression on its face.
Just below it, a triceratops gazed placidly at the car as if to say, That T. rex is all bark and no bite.
“Does this place have food?” Kirk wondered from the far back seat.
“Who cares?” Bea said. “We’re stopping - I need to sketch these.”
Cecily laughed and pulled into the driveway.
They parked behind the Dino Diner, which was decidedly less interesting than the front.
“Food first, kids, then dinosaurs,” Cecily said sternly, causing Bea and Kate to laugh.
This was odd, Cecily did seem to be the leader among the girls, but she never told them what to do.
“That’s what parents always tell their children,” Cecily explained to him as they walked around to the front door of the diner. “Kate and Bea and I have heard our parents say that kind of thing on every road trip we’ve ever been on.”
“I see,” Solo said.
He jogged ahead and held the door open, allowing everyone inside.
The diner was bright and fragrant. Shining metal tables with colorful tops could be found at each booth. Waitresses glided between the tables on their way to and from the steaming kitchen he could just glimpse over the counter. It was a tiny universe of activity.
A waitress approached them.
“Thanks for coming to the Dino Diner,” she said with a big smile. “Follow me.”
They followed her to a large booth in the corner overlooking the dinosaur field.
Kate, Bea and Cecily slid into the side with its back to the field.
Kirk, Buck and Solo sat opposite them. It wasn’t until he was seated that Solo realized how naturally they had all paired off, his brothers gazing at their mates, and he at his intended. The prehistoric view was wasted on Solo, since he only had eyes for Cecily.
The waitress leaned on the table, inadvertently showing the tops of her breasts between the unfastened top buttons of her blouse.
Solo looked up into her eyes politely so as not to rest his gaze on her bosom. He had been told it was very impolite to do otherwise.
“My name is Amber and I’ll be taking care of you today,” the waitress said with a big smile. “Here at the Dino Diner, we’re known for the Bronto Burger - two fresh patties topped with lettuce, tomatoes and our special Tricero-sauce.”
“Is it made with real brontosaurus?” Buck asked in wonder.
Bea kicked his leg under the table.
“Sorry about him,” she told the waitress. “Please go on.”
“Our special today is the Jurassic Pork,” Amber went on gamely. “That’s sweet barbecued pulled pork on a potato roll served with chips and slaw. Or you can substitute Broccoli-o-saurus Bites for just three dollars more.”
“Paying three dollars to get bitten by something hardly seems fair,” Kirk muttered.
“Can’t take these jokers anywhere,” Cecily said brightly. “We’ll take six specials and six cokes, please.”
“Six Jurassic Porks and six cokes,” the waitress said.
“And no bites,” Kirk said. “Please.”
Kate kicked him under the table.
“Ouch. You kicked me.”
The waitress disappeared into the kitchen.
“Okay,” Cecily said giggling. “The dinosaur stuff is just pretend. It’s a gimmick. None of the food really has anything to do with dinosaurs.”
“What’s a gimmick?” Solo asked.
Cecily tilted her head to the side to think, sending her curls spilling over one shoulder in way that made him forget his question.
“I guess I’d say it’s like a trick,” she said.
“Something to get your attention while someone is trying to sell you something,” Kate added.
“Like the leprechaun that sells cereal,” Kirk said wisely.
“Yes, like that,” Cecily agreed. “The dinosaurs are just for fun, to get your attention when you’re driving past the place.”
“It worked,” Buck said.
Solo looked down at the menu. Nearly everything on it was named for a dinosaur. “So none of these creatures exist anymore?” he asked.
Cecily shook her head and frowned. “They are all extinct.”
“But they were not killed off by humans,” he pointed out, hoping to cheer her up.
“Most of them weren’t,” she agreed. She slid her hand across the table to tap on one of the menu items.
His hand was dangerously close to hers.
Solo resisted the impulse to grab her hand, instead pulling his back. He couldn’t be too careful.
“The dodo is extinct because of man’s interference,” Cecily said. “It was hunted by sailors and its habitat was destroyed.”
“Six cokes,” Amber said, placing the drinks in front of them with a wide smile. “I’ll be back in a jiffy with your lunch.”
Solo watched her sail off between the tables.
A group of young women a few tables over stopped their giggling and stared at him.
When he turned back to Cecily he could hear them giggling again.
“Looks like someone’s got himself a fan club,” Bea said. “Ha.”
Cecily’s eyes narrowed slightly, then she smiled.
“What do you mean?” Solo asked Bea. He knew what a fan was. They had spent plenty of time dealing with them at the comic cons. But he didn’t expect any of the girls to have a club of fans that met in a restaurant with a dinosaur gimmick.
“Oh nothing, I was only kidding,” Bea said, glancing at Cecily.
Before long, Amber came back with two heaping trays o
f food and for a while there was no talking at all as the group handed out their meals and dug in.
Solo was fascinated by the endless variety in human foodstuffs. He liked this meal very much, though he would have liked to have cooked it himself. He enjoyed the scientific aspect of portioning things out and mixing them together to create his own meals. Unfortunately that wasn’t something the women seemed to do very often. He wondered if preparing one’s own food was expensive.
Cecily smiled at him from across the table. She had a small smudge of barbecue sauce in the corner of her mouth and he longed to kiss it away.
“I have sauce on my face, don’t I?” she asked.
He nodded and pointed to the corner of his own mouth to show her.
She swiped the wrong side with her napkin, then raised her eyebrows at him in question.
“No, the other side,” he said, smiling.
She tried again, still missed the spot.
“Can you…?” she asked him, leaning forward.
Solo’s heart raced as two instincts pulled him in opposite directions. One demanded that he touch her. The other feared what he might learn if he did.
He grabbed a napkin and very gently and carefully removed the sauce without his skin brushing hers.
Usually he could touch people and things and nothing happened. But with Cecily he feared that his emotions would turn it into something different.
“Thanks,” she said, her dimples appearing.
“Okay, lovebirds,” Bea teased. “I think it’s time to hit the road if we want to make it to the hotel by check-in.”
“We’re not staying in the RV?” Buck asked her as they all slipped out of the booth.
“The RV is okay in a pinch,” Kate explained. “But a hotel is more comfortable.”
They were in line to pay their bill when the table of giggling women got in line behind them.
“Hi there,” one of the women said to Solo.
“Hello,” he replied politely, wondering why she was looking him up and down so thoroughly. He hoped what he was wearing was proper attire for the diner.
“You know what, I’m going to run to the bathroom,” Kate said, handing Kirk her bag.