A New Reason To Fight: An Intergalactic Romance

by T. J. Brandow

  “Thank you,” I said in choppy Konkomanese, paying with my inter-worlds credit account and then stepping out of the hover.

  I stood with my luggage in front of a huge, white house. Konkomanese architecture always reminded me of ancient Roman style: all columns and practical lines and decorum. There was a statement of pride behind every one of their structures and I found this immensely indicative of the Konkoma themselves.

  I walked up the stone path, strange plants lining each side with plotted care, and stared at the front door for a moment. There wasn’t a panel beside it to ring the person inside. After a minute of consideration, I simply knocked on the door.

  I waited a moment and then heard steps approaching. The door swung open to reveal an annoyed female Konkoma.

  “Can I help you?” she asked in a practiced Basic, her voice low-pitched and burnt out.

  I recognized her immediately as my host, Reyna Mmornac, from the photos I’d received, but she was much more impressive in real life. She was both more beautiful and more intimidating than I’d expected.

  Her grey-purple skin was average for her race, but her dark brown eyes struck me with their expressiveness and intensity. She pulled her long, dark hair back in an elaborate and professional style, showing off the spines running down the sides and front of her neck. I’d quickly learned that the spines on the front of the neck were the only real way to differentiate a Konkoma as female. Her facial features were much more delicate than most other Konkoma females I’d seen and her general stature was smaller, but she gave off a huge energy that made me feel smaller than her even with my three inches of height over her.

  She wore a form-fitting grey dress, the wrapped material matching her skin tone pleasantly and the diagonal lines so very Konkomanese. The traditional rectangle of shining metal laid over her left hip, the plate following the lines of the dress perfectly. I’d seen these metal plates incorporated into every Konkomanese outfit and I could only guess they served to protect the sensitive area on the front of the hip that housed the Konkomanese sex organs.

  Reyna’s arranged hair and painted eyes told me that she obviously took great care in her appearance and overall presentation. She was the leader of the town after all. The Konkomanese word, Mahaj, translated to “Mayor” in my mind, so that was how I’d come to think of her. But the word seemed insufficient now that I’d actually met the woman.

  “Well?” she pressed, hands on her hips. I’d obviously been staring too long.

  “I’m sorry,” I said in Basic. “I’m Dr. Jane Lewis, the Human researcher on assignment. You’re Mahaj Reyna Mmornac, I presume?” I’d practiced this introduction so many times; I was relieved when it rolled off my tongue without problem.

  “You are correct,” she replied, crossing her arms. The gesture struck me as so human that I could almost forget she was an alien. Almost.

  She took a step away from the door and said, “Please come in, Dr. Jane Lewis.”

  “You can just call me Jane,” I told her as I stepped into her home.

  “In this building you can call me Reyna,” she replied. “But outside, I go by Mayor.”

  “Understood,” I said. “Thank you again for hosting me. It’s so much more informative to live among you.”

  Reyna gave a terse nod, as though put off by my comment.

  “I think I should disclose something immediately,” Reyna said. “I am unused to having strangers in my home. I accepted this assignment for publicity’s sake and nothing more.”

  The words struck me in a strange way. I knew the Konkoma were known for being straight forward, but this seemed excessive even for them. There was a resentment behind Reyna’s words that I could see reflected in her eyes.

  “I understand,” I said. “And I’ll try not to disrupt your life more than necessary.” I added a smile, hoping to ease the tension that the other woman had invited into our conversation. Reyna just blinked at me, as though confused by my statement, and then she led me farther into the house.

  “I have set up the guest room for you,” she explained, ascending the ornate and huge staircase that took up the majority of the first room. This was when I noticed her stiletto-like shoes and the grace with which she navigated the stairs in them. Her file had impressed me over and over again back on the ship, when I’d been researching her and her town, and I felt that sense of awe flutter in my chest again at the sight of Reyna easily climbing stairs in precariously high shoes. It seemed silly to me to be impressed by something like this, but I had the reaction regardless.

  “Thank you,” I said, carrying my small luggage and following her up the stairs. “I do appreciate your hospitality.”

  “Anything to secure my good will with the planetary government,” Reyna said, not turning to say the words to me. “My government cares deeply for this newfound relationship with your people. I intend to make them happy by housing you while you conduct your research.” The last word came out colder than the rest and I wondered at it.

  “You know what’s interesting?” I started, hoping to change the mood of the conversation. “Our scientists have found that the Konkoma are genetically closer to Humans than any other alien race we’ve encountered so far. They speculate that we are connected in a significant way on the evolutionary chart.”

  “Fascinating,” Reyna deadpanned.

  When she didn’t say anything else, I turned my attention to the decor of the house. There wasn’t much to see, since it was sparsely but elegantly adorned with simple gold lines and no artwork whatsoever.

  “This is your room,” Reyna said, opening the first of four doors in the upstairs hallway. “I hope you find it suitable to your needs.”

  The room was medium-sized for a Human city bedroom with a bed, desk, and dresser. It was more than I’d expected and better than the rooms I’ve had in the past.

  “It’s perfect,” I said. “Thank you.”

  “Take your time to settle in,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “I have to get back to the office. I’ll be home soon with Sorel for the evening meal.”

  I knew from the brief I’d received that Sorel was Reyna’s young son. I’d noticed immediately that he looked very different from Reyna, with paler skin and heavier features. I wondered if I’d see the relation when we met in person.

  “If you need anything, call the office,” she continued. “You have that information I expect?”

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Then I will leave you to yourself,” she said. “We’ll work out house access and town exploration later tonight.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “Have a good day at work.”

  Reyna stared at me, as though this was a strange comment on my part, but then she shook her head and left the room, closing the door behind her. I heard her shoes click down the hallway and onto the stairs. The front door slammed close a moment later.

  I sat down on the bed, setting down my luggage and letting my body settle into the new environment. I tried to pinpoint exactly how I felt, sitting in a room so far from my homeworld but so much like it, but I couldn’t come up with a better description than weird. The Konkoma were very much like Humans on the outside: with their bipedal makeup and Human-like living quarters. But I knew better than to let that sink in. If I did, I was liable to being blindsided by their alienness, their uniqueness. And that, of course, was the entire reason I’d come to Komaron Prime in the first place.

  I pulled out my ‘Pad and started to write down notes.

  Chapter 2

  Reyna arrived home with Sorel in a flurry of commotion. The kid produced ten times the noise Reyna did, yammering on in Konkomanese and making small sounds in-between sentences. His sounds variated between grunts and small shouts with no words behind them. He seemed to run everywhere instead of walking, much to his mother’s vocalized chagrin.

  Finally, one of Sorel’s phrases in Konkamanese stuck out and I was able to translate it: “Is she here?”

  I fixed my hair in the small mirro
r, making sure I didn’t have too many flyaways from my blonde ponytail. Then, I straightened the collar on my button-up and slowly started downstairs.

  Sorel stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up expectantly. It was as though he’d heard me open my room door and waited for the first glimpse of me. I knew the Konkoma had good hearing, but I wasn’t sure just how good.

  “Remember to speak in Basic,” Reyna said to Sorel. I couldn’t see her, but her voice was distinct enough that I could be sure it was her.

  “Yes, Mom,” Sorel replied in Basic.

  Then Reyna said something else in Konkomanese that I thought might be “Remember your manners.”

  I made it to the bottom of the stairs, trying not to feel self-conscious under the boy’s scrutiny. He seemed more intrigued than judgemental, but I was still learning the meaning of Konkoman facial expressions. His green eyes were scrunched up tight and his thin lips were pressed into a straight line.

  “Hi!” he said, looking up at me with wide eyes. The green of his eyes were a bit overpowering amidst his lavender skin. With his round cheeks and choppy brunette hair, he was cute by any standards.

  “Hello,” I answered. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “I’m Sorel!” he said, pointing to himself.

  “I’m Jane,” I said. He stuck out his hand awkwardly and I shook it. He smiled at me.

  “I’ve been waiting weeks to do that,” he told her. “I even practiced with Mom.”

  I found it funny, in a tickling sort of way, to hear an alien say the word “Mom” so naturally. No matter how many times I witnessed this phenomenon of aliens saying or doing Human things, I never stopped feeling giddy at it.

  “Thank you,” I said, returning his smile. “It’s very sweet of you.”

  “You’re much more yellow than I expected,” he said.

  “Sorel,” came Reyna’s warning voice from the other room.

  “What?” Sorel shouted back to his mother. “She is!”

  Reyna stepped into the room, her gaze fixed on her son.

  “Just because something is true doesn’t mean you should say it out loud,” Reyna said. I wanted to roll my eyes, since Reyna had already said a few things that I’d deem better left unsaid. But I resisted the urge and just smiled at Sorel instead.

  “It’s alright,” I assured him. “It’s all part of learning about another species.”

  “Okay, then I have another question. Where did all your spines go? And why aren’t you wearing a plate?” He patted at the metal piece woven into the hip of his jumpsuit.

  “Sorel,” Reyna said again, crossing her arms and squinting her eyes at him. “Keep this up and you’ll go to bed early.”

  “But I want to know!” he replied. I bit my lower lip to keep from smiling at the earnestness in his voice.

  “Well, I’ve never had any spines,” I answered. “I wasn’t born with them. Humans don’t have them. And I don’t have to wear a plate because my anatomy is different from yours.”

  “Anatomy?” Sorel asked. Reyna said something to him in Konkomanese, which I guessed was an explanation, because he said, “Oh, I get it. So I can punch Jane wherever I want?”

  “You will not be punching Jane anywhere,” Reyna said, her tone reaching its gravest tone yet. “This is not the schoolyard and Jane is not one of your classmates.”

  Sorel looked strangely dismayed at this. It pinged my anthropological curiosity, so I asked, “Do you frequently spar with your classmates for fun?”

  “Spar?” Sorel repeated. Once again Reyna provided an explanation in fast Konkomanese. She must have added something else, because Sorel seemed hesitant to answer my question after that.

  “Come, Sorel,” Reyna said, speaking in Basic once again. “It’s time to arrange the table for meal.”

  “Fine,” Sorel groaned. Then, he turned to me and said, “You don’t have to, but you can help if you want. It’s faster.”

  “Sure,” I said, excited for the opportunity to see the inner-workings of the Konkoma household. “Although I don’t know what I’m doing, so I’m not sure that I’ll make it quicker for you.”

  “It’s easy,” he said, waving at me to follow him into another room. “I’ll show you.”

  The system was easy to pick up and I enjoyed listening to Sorel’s high-pitched, enthusiastic voice as he explained. There was an openness about him in the same way that there was a closedness to Reyna. I wondered if their personalities differed or if the Konkoma became more private with age. It was something I put onto my mental list of questions to unravel during my time on Komaron Prime.

  Finally, we sat down for dinner at Reyna’s large dining table. It had its own room, as it would in a large Human household, and the similarity didn’t prepare me for the strangeness of the cuisine.

  Everything had a floral smell, almost overpoweringly so, and the spices bit hard on the inside of my mouth. Most of the dish resembled leaves, but they were colored in ways that dulled the beauty of Earth’s autumns. The rest of the dish was a paste with small discs scattered throughout that had a squishy but firm texture. I hadn’t the slightest what it was, but I didn’t feel ready to ask. I was too concentrated on eating without making any uncouth facial expressions.

  “Do you eat tagarat at home?” Sorel asked, referring to the dish.

  “I’ve never had it before,” I admitted. “I’ve never had any Konkomanese food before. Our species have only just met and your food hasn’t made it to my planet yet.”

  “Makes sense,” Sorel said with a little shake of his head and a grunt. I decided that this particular, low grunt was a positive sound.

  I noticed how quiet Reyna was being during the meal and wondered if it was a habit of hers or an phenomenon brought on by my presence. I decided to test the waters.

  “How was work today, Reyna?” I asked casually.

  At the question, Reyna looked up, as though surprised that I’d directed conversation toward her, and her eyes widened slightly. I couldn’t tell if she was offended or surprised.

  “Excuse me?” she said.

  “I was just inquiring about your day,” I said, giving her the benefit of the doubt and assuming she hadn’t understood my Basic. “I was wondering if the goings-on at your workplace were smooth today or at all remarkable.”

  “Do all you Humans chatter incessantly at mealtime like children?” Reyna asked. Her tone was sharp, but I couldn’t tell if I was reading something hostile when there wasn’t anything. I kept my tone and expression sincere.

  “I apologize,” I said. “In Human households, it’s common to converse during meals.”

  “Well, here we do things differently,” Reyna said, lifting her chin a bit as though to show superiority. “We covet silence during meals. Only the children, who have not yet learned to restrain themselves, are known to talk while eating.”

  “It’s more fun,” Sorel put in, turning to me. “Don’t you think so?”

  I kept quiet, unsure how to proceed. But, it also felt rude to not answer Sorel.

  Reyna must have sensed my dilemma, because she said to me, “You are not held to such restrictions. You may speak with Sorel if you wish, especially since it is your custom.”

  “Thank you,” I said to her. Then, to Sorel, I said, “Well, I’ve never known any other way.”

  The console on the wall in the next room started beeping. Sorel looked at his mother expectantly, as though wondering what she’ll do. I could see the muscles in Reyna’s jaw tighten and I couldn’t figure out exactly what was stressing her. Was it against the dinner rules to answer the beeping? I noticed there wasn’t a console anywhere in the dining room.

  “Are you going to take the call?” Sorel asked his mother. “That’s the urgent notification.”

  “I’m aware, Sorel,” she said calmly. Then, after a moment of hesitation, she rose primly from her seat and headed into the other room. The beeping stopped and it was replaced with the hushed sound of voices.

  “This is ve
ry weird,” Sorel told me. “Mom never gets urgent calls during meal. The people at her work know better than that. It must really be important.”

  I tried to listen to the conversation in the next room, but it was too far away and Reyna was talking in rushed Konkomanese. I really had no chance of deciphering any of it.

  Sorel squinted in the direction of his mother, as though he, too, was attempting to eavesdrop. I figured that he actually could, since he both knew the language and had far superior hearing to my own. I couldn’t very well ask him what they were talking about, so I just watched his facial expression and tried to guess what was happening in the other room.