by Hana Starr
As they drew closer, she noticed that it had a flat area for the ship to dock beside it, and Faer skillfully parked the ship in the center of this, 'parking space,' for lack of a better way to put it in Anne Claire's mind. She stood once the ship was completely stationary and walked over to where her, 'stargazing kit,' was still laid out on the floor and bundled everything in her blanket, the same way that Faer had collected everything.
“We have arrived,” Faer said, rising from their seat. “Come, I must make accommodations for you inside.” Anne Claire nodded, and together they exited the ship. She wondered how the ship was protected from the elements here, but a glance up at just the right angle revealed the hexagon patterned shield that encased the landing pad, answering her unasked question.
Faer led her inside of the home, and she found herself breathless once more. The humble little building hid a deep expanse of a home, with several floors, almost as many hallways, and more rooms than she could probably count in one evening.
“You have spacial anomaly technology?” She asked, her eyes wide as saucers. Faer looking approvingly at her.
“I am impressed that you grasp the concept,” they complimented her. “Now, you must be incredibly tired, so I will help you get settled into a room.”
“But,” this was probably the worst time to mention anything from her life that she was plucked from, but she did have responsibilities that she couldn't just abandon. “What about my cat? My house? What will happen to them? I don't-” ah, there was all that panic that she should have been feeling. It all hit her at once, the idea that she was innumerable kilometers from home, where everything she ever knew was, and the weight of it all nearly made her sink to her knees. The only thing that held her up was Faer's long, gentle fingers lightly stroking her cheek. She looked up at them, their comforting smile, and felt some of the fear that gripped her heart lighten.
“I assure you, it has been handled.” They let their hand drop and motioned for her to follow them. “When I ventured into your mind to learn your language, I saw other things, things from your life.”
“Like what?” She asked hesitantly. She wasn't sure how she would take Faer finding something embarrassing out about her past.
“Nothing overtly private – just things that you had been idly thinking about. Your cat, Momo, your home, your vehicle. While you were sleeping, I made sure that your vehicle was returned to your home, and that there was a way for you to tend to your feline friend.”
“Oh?” She asked as they came to a stop in front of the door at the end of the first hallway that she had seen walking into the house.
“Open the door,” they gestured to the holo-screen that acted as a door control. She hesitated a moment before lightly tapping the display. The hydraulic hiss of the door opening was so quiet she almost didn't hear it, but that detail was largely lost on her in light of the sight in front of her.
It was her house, exactly as she had left it.
Every detail, down to the mail that she had brought in and tossed onto her kitchen table was exactly as she had remembered it. She slowly stepped into the space, eyes darting around to desperately try and find that one little detail, that one missed thing that would shatter the illusion but was unable to find it. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Momo, her little tuxedo cat, hopped onto the table and meowed at her. Slowly, she inched closer to her faithful companion and reached a hand out to pet him, expecting him to not be real. But her fingers settled into his soft fur the same way that they always did, and he purred just as loudly and leaned into her touch the same way he had done since he was a kitten.
Chapter 8
“I brought Momo here,” Faer explained. “I ascertained that he would require care in your absence, and that his presence would ease your transition here.” Silently, she pressed her face into Momo's soft fur and sighed, the familiarity of his warmth comforting to her. “The remainder of the space is an exact replica of your home, constructed by the memories I saw in your mind. Everything here is physical, and everything is as you remember it, even if it is not out in the open.”
“I have another question,” she said, looking up at them without pulling away from Momo. “How am I breathing right now?”
“Our atmospheres are comparable,” they said simply. “It is the same reason that I could breathe without assistance on Earth.” She nodded.
“Well.” She smiled sheepishly as she straightened herself. “Welcome to my humble abode,” she said with a sweep of her arm. “It's not much, I know, but it's a good enough place to keep my books and rest my head,” She set her bundle of things down on the table, watching as Momo took to batting a single white paw at one of the corners of her blanket. As she set aside her thermos and kettle, she took in the way the Faer moved around her, 'home,' transfixed as they reverently stepped around the, 'house,' as if they were taking in a lost ruin of a civilization they didn't understand. When her cat let out an inquisitive meow from his perch on the kitchen table, Faer practically floated toward the handsome tuxedo cat with a grace that was literally otherworldly to Anne Claire, and she drank it in. “I know you already know his name, but I suppose a formal introduction is in order.” She giggled. “This is Momo, my trusty cat. He's friendly, I promise-” her usual warning of her cat's usually skittish nature died on her tongue as Faer brush Momo's nose with a finger, and then, seemingly satisfied, bent to his level on the table, emitting a low purr almost exactly akin to a cat's. Momo, having evidently registered Faer as, 'fellow feline and therefore acceptable company,' he nuzzled Faer's face with the gusto and enthusiasm normally reserved for when she would offer him wet food.
“Momo is nice. I quite like him,” Faer said as they straightened with a decisive nod. “He is afraid of loud noises. When the other humans come in, they can be loud at first. He hides from the noise. If they were quieter, however, he would be more social with them.” Faer smiled at her, pleased to have translated for her pet.
“Huh.” Anne Claire blinked stupidly, wondering how she had not connected the dots herself sooner. “That makes so much more sense.” She shook her head. “Even though this is your house technically, I should still be a good hostess around here. Can I get you anything?”
“I am alright. Perhaps you should rest. We can show you everything in the morning.” She nodded in agreement when she realized how physically tired she was. After she walked down the hallway of, 'her house,' to where her bedroom would be, she found herself pleased that it was also the same, cozy place that she had left. Silently, she crawled into her bed, nearly sobbing at the way that it felt just as soft and lived in as her real mattress, and wrapped her familiar feeling covers around her. Faer sat on the edge of the bed with such a light touch that she genuinely wondered if they were just floating above the mattress. Momo trotted in after a few moment, hopping onto the bed and curling around her feet the same way that he did every night.
“I must confess, this is the closest that I have felt to another being,” Faer smiled affectionately, eyes shimmering sapphires. “You are very adaptable, and you have been kinder than most have been to me. It is refreshing,” they rested a hand on hers, peeking out from the blanket.
“Ah, I'm usually too shy to really talk to strangers, to be honest, but you...” she shrugged lamely when she couldn't find the words to explain how she felt. “You seem to be able to read me very well- mind reading powers notwithstanding,” they both laughed at her lame joke. “I'm not used to being understood so easily by a complete stranger. I,” she scrunched her face up in thought. “I don't think I've ever felt this way about anyone.” She paused a moment, debating on whether it was considered polite to ask about abilities that are beyond her comprehension before finally deciding that it was worth the risk; Faer had been accommodating, if nothing else. “I'm wondering something,” she said, pulling the blankets back from her face enough to properly face Faer without having to peek at them from over the edge of the blankets. “Can you learn how to communicate with any speci
es just by touching them? Is that all it takes? How does that work?” Faer tilted their head as they pondered how to answer.
“It is...not that different from what you described, admittedly.” They started, and Anne Claire nodded, eager to understand all she could about this new world she had been introduced to. “I learn how to speak to you, in the way that you understand best, by telepathic touch. It is how my kind can communicate safely with anyone we encounter, no matter where we go.”
“That sounds so useful,” Anne Claire sighed. “I can speak a couple of languages, but it look me years to learn. To think that you can understand an entire language in an instant...” Faer nodded.
“It has helped me navigate places and cultures much easier than I would have without the ability. Like I said- I have never spoken to another at length, and never about my species or that I am from another world, not even on other planets where interplanetary travel is commonplace. No one ever bothered to try and understand me before. This is...nice,” something akin to sadness tinged Faer's smile, and she felt the undeniable urge to try and chase it away with something less somber, to try and make Faer feel happy again. Now that she felt so much more familiarity with Faer, she felt desperate to see them smile without that melancholy that she had been so used to experiencing for so many years as she stared up at the stars.
“It's nice for me, too,” Anne Claire added, perhaps a little too quickly. “I've been so used to having to put on a face for so long, having to deal with the public and act like this person that I'm not, it's taken a lot of time away from being able to be with people that I can just be myself around.” She curled into herself from under the blankets. “To be honest, I had almost forgotten what it was like to just be myself in front of someone else. To confide in someone like this,” she swallowed her tears. “It's nice to have a friend that makes my heart feel so light.”
“A...friend,” Faer said, testing the word on their tongue before nodding slowly. “...Yes. A friend. Someone to confide in...perhaps find something deeper with,” they reached forward and took her small hands in theirs. Warmth, both internal and external flooded her being, and even without that contact between them, Anne Claire felt something stronger than friendship in that moment- affection, solidarity, curiosity, want all rushed through her veins with every hammering of her heart, and it didn't take long to realize that the feelings were intensified because they were reciprocated by Faer; the connection between them was like a completed circuit, feeding into itself. “I, too, know how it feels to be alone among those like myself because of my career and the expectations that come with it. I have always relished in traveling and meeting new people,” they sighed. “Travel is not forbidden, but it is heavily restricted from scientists and doctors because of how desperately we are needed. I can travel only so often, and only for so long for each trip but I try to make the most of my time wherever I land.” Anne Claire squeezed their hand as a show of comfort. “This...this is the first time that I have felt so understood in a very long time.”
“I can sympathize,” she winced at the way her voice cracked with raw emotion. “I've always wanted to travel to places that humans haven't gone yet, but it was always a hobby, a pipe dream compared to my work as a doctor. I've always felt like I was meant to travel the stars someday...” she trailed off with a pathetic sniffle. She stifled a hushed gasp when Faer raised a slender hand to tenderly brush away a tear that had managed to escape from the corner of her eye. She blinked in surprise; she hadn't even realized that she was crying until that moment.
“You feel tired,” Faer said. Although it wasn't a question, Anne Claire still nodded, vaguely guessing that, because they were holding hands, Faer could feel what she was feeling to at least some degree. The days events, as exciting as they may have been, wore her out physically, and the sensation of finding someone who understood her on a very deep level was so overwhelming her soul just begged for her to sleep and recuperate from remembering what it felt like to be cherished. “Rest,” Faer gently lifted the blankets and tucked them around her. “Tomorrow is a new day, and with it, we start helping my people.”
Chapter 9
“I'll do my best,” Elle whispered earnestly, vaguely alarmed at how intensely she felt this but knew it was true with every fiber of her being; she wanted to save Faer's people. She might not have met any of them, but if they were so desperate to help their people that Faer had traveled across the sea of stars that separated them, she was going to throw her entire self at the problem until it was solved. Faer stared at her with deep lapis lazuli eyes glimmering in tender affection that transcended species. Taking her hand in theirs again, Faer leaned forward ever so slightly, eyes hooded as they looked at their laced fingers in muted wonder. “Just don't let me do it alone. Please stay by me, Faer.”
“If that is what you need of me, then I shall, Anne Claire,” their free hand brushed her hair away from her face with the intimacy of a lover, and she all but purred, leaning into their soft touch. “You still appear to have an underlying sense of fear,” Faer noted in an almost absentminded tone as they continued to lightly stroke her cheek. She flushed under the observation, and had to resist the urge to bury her head under the mound of blankets she was wrapped up in.
“I think it's just what's left of my nervous energy from everything that happened.” She pulled the blankets up just enough to cover her cheeks. “It's not every day I fall asleep in front of a stranger and wake up in space, you know. A girl might not know how to feel about that.” She giggled, truly only intending to make light of the situation, but Faer grew pensive, as though they were contemplating something rather weighty.
“May I...” not for the first time since they were able to communicate in the same language, Faer seemed to ponder over their choice of words, as though they were unsure of whether to ask what was on their mind or not. “May I connect with you again? It might help to ease your lingering worries.”
“What,” Anne Claire swallowed. “What exactly do you mean, Faer?” She asked, her voice a mere whisper against the fleece of her blankets. She could feel her heart racing at the thought of what Faer could be asking. As strange as it was to feel this way, she knew that she wanted to feel that telepathic connection with them again, to feel that strangely deep mental chain linking the two of them together on a level that she had never experienced before. For all her enthusiasm, however, she wanted to be absolutely sure that that was what Faer was asking of her before she went off and jumped to conclusions. It wouldn't do either of them any good to presume to know what Faer was talking about; they could have just been asking for a cuddle for all she knew.
“May I connect with you?” Faer asked again. “May I link my mind with yours in the same way as when I used it to understand your language? It might seem strange, but my people have often used this link to soothe one another in times of crisis, and I believe that it might help you to have a more restful sleep.” Faer hesitated a moment. “It is a telepathic link through which we can share feelings and, if you were comfortable with the idea, memories as well. Though admittedly, that tends to be used more for quick information gathering rather than emotional support.”
“I see,” she croaked from her blanket. She tried swallow through the sudden dryness in her throat as Faer continued.
“Sharing memories can come later, if that is too much for you; perhaps it would be more prudent for that to happen tomorrow when we begin to work. I just...” they winced, their eyes a stormy Hematite gray as they swirled with conflicting emotions. “I felt something unlike I have ever felt before when I looked into your mind, and again when I held your hand. I want to understand this feeling better, but I will not press the matter. What matters most to me in this moment is that you are comfortable, Anne Claire.”
Perhaps it was because she hadn't felt her heart hammering this hard in her chest before, or it might have had something to do with the way that Faer, this new entry in her life, was being so caring and considerate of her, but she su
ddenly found herself not afraid of what they were offering. She nodded and pulled the blankets away from her face.
“Yes,” Anne Claire said hoarsely before she cleared her throat and tried again. “I want to feel what you're feeling. Let's start there. We can...we can share memories a little later. Ease me into this whole telepathy thing, yeah?” Faer's smile was more breathtaking than any sunrise over any of the thousands of beautiful vistas one could find on a postcard, and she allowed herself to get lost in the glimmering of their golden eyes as the hand that had been stroking her cheek now cupped the back of her head lightly. Their other hand came up to lightly stroke her temple as Faer leaned over her, seemingly hovering over her.
Although staring deeply into Faer's eyes, ever changing in their color, was absolutely mesmerizing, Anne Claire still opted to let her eyes so slide shut to better focus on the sensations that were washing over her, both the ones that she was feeling herself and the ones that were being shared with her through Faer, and soon found herself awash in an all-encompassing, bone deep level of comfort that she had both never experienced in her life before, and never wanted to be wrenched out of again. The wispy tendrils of Faer's mind stroked against the proverbial doorway into her mind softly, patiently, waiting for her to let them in when she was comfortable. With a stuttering breath, she let every sense of tension in her body go lax, and let Faer in. Even with her express consent given to them to explore the very depths of her soul, she could feel Faer just floating there, slowly sinking toward the center of her consciousness, simply taking in everything that made her Anne Claire Brahmsworth who she was. She soon found herself drifting along the, 'current,' of the link between them toward Faer's emotional center, and let herself become lost in their emotions.