A New Reason To Fight: An Intergalactic Romance

by T. J. Brandow

  Overall, it didn’t seem like a place Reyna would frequent. The disparity only grew more glaring when we sat in a booth and I looked across the table at a primly dressed Reyna amidst the chaos of the diner’s decor.

  “Do you come here often?” I asked as I looked over the digital readout on the table that listed the dishes available.

  “No,” Reyna answered quickly.

  I just nodded, trying to stay casual as I read through the menu. I couldn’t begin to choose because I didn’t have a clue what any of it meant.

  “Then, why did you bring me here?” I asked, keeping my gaze down to make it sound less like an interrogation and more like a curious question. I knew it was a bit probing, but I had to try to begin to understand this woman.

  Reyna hesitated. I couldn’t remember Reyna hesitating before, at least not for this long.

  Finally, reluctantly, she answered, “I thought you’d appreciate the experience. It’s a culturally significant place in this town.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. Instead of calling the woman out, I looked up at her with a lost expression on my face.

  “I have no idea what to order,” I said. “Can you order for me?”

  Reyna moved back in her seat every so slightly, literally taken aback by my question. Her eyes widened in what I read as surprise and she nearly stammered when she replied.

  “I can choose something, yes. What sort of things do you like to eat in particular? Would you care for something plain, heavy, spicy, vegetable-based?”

  I smiled openly at Reyna now. I wanted to encourage this.

  “Why don’t you order me your favorite?” I said. “I generally like almost anything and I trust your judgement when it comes to food.”

  Reyna stared at me, biting at her lower lip in thought.

  “I know that you’re here to study us,” she said, “but I think that I just may have to start studying you in return. I can never guess what you’ll do next, Jane the Human.”

  I chuckled at that. I felt impressed with myself for not only getting a genuine reaction from Reyna, but for having her admit something genuine.

  “I’m sure you’ll catch on quickly,” I said. “I’m rather predictable once you know me.”

  Reyna squinted her eyes in what I knew was her expression for disbelief. She opened her mouth to say something else, but the server appeared at our table and the comment was left unsaid.

  She ordered for us both and then excused herself for a moment. I looked around the diner in her absence, noting the other patrons and the wild array of objects on the walls.

  Reyna had only been gone a moment before someone else slid into her seat. It was another female Konkoma, small and about the same age as Reyna (from my crude judgement of Konkoma aging). Everything about her was lighter in color than Reyna and she moved much more quickly. She fluttered almost, her movements birdlike and enthusiastic.

  “Hello?” I said, unsure what else to say.

  “Hi,” she replied. “I’m Mema-Marno. You’re Jane?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Can I help you?” I tried to sound polite, but I couldn’t hide the wariness from my voice. I was excited to meet more Konkoma, but this interaction was so unexpected that I couldn’t seem to find my grounding.

  “I just wanted to check in and see that you’re doing alright,” she said. “Reyna is treating you well?”

  “Very well, yes,” I answered. “Why do you ask?”

  “Well...” she started, her expression suddenly more guarded than before. She leaned toward me across the table in a conspiratorial manner. “Reyna isn’t the safest person in this town.”

  “Oh?” I asked, at a loss for words. I didn’t believe this Mema-Marno completely, since the town seemed to have a bias toward Reyna, but I did take the weight of her words into account.

  “I just wanted you to know that you have people to come to if things get dangerous. There’s a group of us that don’t trust her and would take you in without a second thought.”

  “I appreciate the gesture,” I said, “but I’m not sure that will be a problem. How do you know Reyna exactly?”

  Mema-Marno smiled at me admiringly. I couldn’t make sense of it.

  “You ask good questions,” she said.

  Before the conversation could continue, Reyna showed up at the side of the table.

  “Mema,” Reyna growled, the single word filled with disdain. “You’re in my seat.”

  Mema-Marno got up, meeting Reyna’s glare straight-on.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” Mema insisted.

  “I’m aware,” Reyna said, her tone still icy. “Now, leave us to our meal.”

  Mema-Marno gave me one last encouraging smile and then left. She scanned her wrist on the table console and left the diner. Even more questions swirled through my head and I had no idea what my face was doing as I thought through the encounter.

  “Did she bother you?” Reyna asked me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  “No,” I answered honestly. Reyna let out a long breath.

  “If she does, do let me know,” Reyna said. There was a finality to her voice that signaled the end of this particular conversation, but I pushed through anyway.

  “Who is she?” I asked.

  “A nuisance,” Reyna answered. “No one you should concern yourself with.”

  “Is she part of the group that’s looking to ruin your reputation?” I asked quietly, not wanting our conversation to leave our table. I didn’t know if it made a difference, since Konkoma had good hearing, but I thought it was worth a try.

  “There is no such group,” Reyna insisted. “But she doesn’t have the best intentions in my regard, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  I shook my head, overwhelmed by the thick flood of politics and intrigue that I’d unknowingly dropped myself into. I couldn’t be sure if the Konkoma always had this sort of turmoil under the surface or if it was unique to this town. Either way, it was happening here and I was definitely in the middle of it all.

  Chapter 6

  “Jaaaaane!” Sorel yelled to her from across the house. He’d just returned from his after-school activity, so he got home a bit later than Jane and Reyna.

  “Upstairs!” I answered at the same time that Reyna said, “No yelling in the house!”

  Sorel stamped up the stairs and right into my room. I sat on my bed, reading through some Konkoman literature.

  “I’m so happy to be home,” Sorel said, jumping up onto the bed.

  “That’s good,” I said, smiling at him. He sat beside me, looking over at my ‘Pad.

  “What you looking at?” he asked in his accented Basic.

  “I’m just reading some of your books,” I said.

  “My books?” he echoed.

  “I mean, books written by people of your species.”

  “Oh. And? Do you like them?”

  I laughed at this, delighted by his questioning.

  “Generally, yes,” I answered. “I noticed that your people are very focused on what people say to one another.”

  Sorel answered by reciting a phrase in Konkomanese. It sounded like a mantra of sorts. From what I could work out, it translated to something like “Our word is our bond.”

  “You’ll have to teach me that one,” I said. “I’m afraid that my Konkomanese isn’t too good yet.”

  “You have time,” Sorel said flippantly.

  “I have a question for you,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

  “Yes?” He stood on the bed and starting jumping up and down.

  “I noticed that your Mom and you look pretty different. Do you look like your other parent?” I knew that the Konkoma had four biological sexes, two of which could have impregnated Reyna, so I didn’t want to use incorrectly gendered language here.

  “Mom and I aren’t related by genes,” Sorel answered as he kept jumping. I found the more clinical translation funny, but I figured it was because he was trying to explain with what words he knew
in Basic. Either way, the revelation had an effect on me. I knew that the Konkoma took blood family very seriously. The idea that Reyna had perhaps adopted Sorel meant something.

  “So, your Mom adopted you?” I asked, hoping to clarify.

  “Adopted?” he said. “I don’t know what that word means.”

  I decided quickly that the best way to explain was with my own life story.

  “I didn’t grow up with my parents related by genes either,” I said, using his terminology.

  “Really?” he asked.

  “My parents died when I was a baby. I didn’t have any other family by genes, so the government put me into other families’ houses until I was old enough to take care of myself. We call it foster care. But if one of the families had decided to make me a permanent part of their family, I would have been adopted. Does that make sense?”

  Sorel had stopped jumping when I was only a line into my explanation, listening carefully through the rest of it. When I finished, he scrunched up his nose at me and pressed his lips together.

  “I think I understand,” he said. “The government takes care of kids without families here, but they all live together. They don’t put them with other families. That’s a weird idea. But I’ve been with Mom since I was born. She says we’re the same as family by genes no matter what the others at school say.”

  This discovery intrigued me. From what I understood, both from my reading and from this interaction, adoption wasn’t too common among the Konkoma. So, what had caused Reyna to adopt a child, especially as a single parent? And what did that say about her? And did this act alone negate all the suspicions surrounding her? What had Reyna done or supposedly done to darken her reputation in the town? Were people like Mema-Marno just outright wrong about Reyna? I couldn’t decide where to start unraveling this mystery.

  “Your Mom is right,” I said when I realized that I’d been quiet too long. “You are the same as family by genes.”

  Sorel smiled at me at this. Then he stood up on the bed again, jumping.

  “Does your Mom let you jump on the bed?” I asked.

  “No,” he said. “But she’s not here.”

  There came a knock on my door and Sorel stopped jumping.

  “It’s time for meal,” Reyna said through the door. “Is Sorel in there with you?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “We’re coming.”

  “Mom sounds mad,” Sorel muttered. “She must know I was jumping on the bed.”

  I thought that it was more likely that Reyna didn’t like the fact that I was alone with Sorel. Reyna hadn’t left him with me last night, when she’d had to go to the news office, so I doubted she liked the idea of us together and out of her sight. It hurt a bit, but I knew that I shouldn’t take it personally. I was a stranger, an alien after all, and this was her son. She had every right to be protective and suspicious.

  Meal went well until Sorel decided to say, “I learned a new word today. Jane says I’m adopted. What a funny word, right?”

  Reyna’s entire expression changed. Her carefully controlled expression descended into anger. She stood at the table and all attempts at silence on her part were lost immediately.

  “She said that?” Reyna asked her son, her tone serious. Sorel’s eyes widened at his mother.

  “Yes,” he said dutifully.

  Now Reyna turned her gaze on me, her glare like daggers right through me.

  “Dr. Lewis,” she bit out, “what makes you think you can discuss such a subject with my son?”

  The anger in her voice sent shivers down my spine. I tried to collect my thoughts and keep my tone diplomatic.

  “I didn’t know it was considered a sensitive topic,” I said calmly.

  “Lies,” Reyna said, her fingers pressed against the top of the table. “You know enough about our culture to realize that family genes are everything and a situation such as…”

  Reyna’s sentence fell off, as though the word “adopted” was a curse word.

  “Such as Sorel’s,” she said instead, her pitch rising as the tirade continued, “is not one to be discussed lightly. You are not family, so it is most definitely off-limits.”

  “I apologize,” I said quickly. “I sincerely meant no harm.”

  “You are careless for a doctor,” Reyna spat, the fire behind her eyes growing more intense. “You’d do well to be more careful around my son in the future.”

  I couldn’t push away the feeling that the words were a threat. Mema-Marno’s concerned gaze popped into my mind and I could distantly hear her warnings.

  I stood from the table, too. I didn’t want Reyna to think she could push me around.

  “I understand,” I said, my tone firm, “and I do apologize. But these misunderstandings are bound to happen. I have very little to go on when it comes to your culture and priorities. That’s the reason I’m here. I’m trying to be as respectful as possible while still learning. I’m sorry that I’ve stepped over a line, but outright hostility will get us nowhere.”

  I held Reyna’s glare over the table for a long moment. I couldn’t help but notice how much passion her dark eyes expressed. She cared deeply for her son and her values, that was clear. I couldn’t help but be moved, and a little attracted, by it. Then, again, she did need to learn how to reign in her temper. I could sense the danger there that others like Mema-Marno were most likely responding to.

  I broke our gaze first. I didn’t want to start a pissing contest with this woman, after all.

  Satisfied, Reyna sat once again and I did the same. We finished the meal in a silence so thick that even Sorel didn’t dare to break it.

  Chapter 7

  After a week of accompanying Reyna to work, she finally left me at her home during the day, handing me a key in case I wanted to go out. I supposed the woman needed some space after our tiff the previous evening. That, or she was tired of babysitting me already.

  I spent the morning reading and researching, but when lunch came around, I decided to head out for something to eat. A quick search on my ‘Pad told me that the diner Reyna had brought me to was within walking distance. The weather was downright gorgeous, so I decided to take a trip to the diner.

  I’d only been seated for a few minutes, drinking a hot leaf-based drink that reminded me of Earl Grey tea, when Mema-Marno slid into the seat across from me.

  “Hello,” I said, smiling at her in a friendly way even though I was a bit wary of her sudden appearance.

  “Good Second,” she said in greeting. “You’re alone today?”

  I wasn’t sure how to answer this, so I stalled.

  “You mean, is Reyna here?”

  “Yes,” Mema-Marno answered.

  I figured that we were in public, whatever small amount of safety that gave me.

  “She’s not here,” I said. “I’m on my own today.”

  Mema-Marno made a short, high purr and looked around to see if I was telling the truth. Then her gaze was fixated on me, her eyes wide and intense.

  “You must think I have a tracker on you,” she said with a friendly smile. She spoke like she did most else: quickly and lightly.

  I shrugged. She continued.

  “Well, I don’t,” she said. “But I have been looking out for you in a way. I am sincerely worried for you, staying in Reyna’s house. I’m glad she’s let out out today.”

  I couldn’t help from frowning at the connotation in Mema-Marno’s words. I couldn’t reconcile the Reyna that Mema-Marno kept warning me about with the woman I’d come to know over the past week. Sure, Reyna had her flaws, but she didn’t seem as threatening as Mema-Marno made her out to be. I decided to bite the bullet and just ask.

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” I started, tracing the handle on my mug, “how do you know Reyna?”

  “Hasn’t she told you?” Mema-Marno asked, genuinely surprised. I shook my head.

  When that didn’t register, I said, “No.”

  “She’s my half-sister,” Mema-Marno said. “I ca
n’t believe she didn’t tell you.”

  This revelation sank in, connecting dots and creating so many more questions.

  “Sisters,” I muttered. Blood family.

  “Are your parents in town?” I asked. It seemed the most innocuous of my plethora of questions.

  “No,” Mema-Marno answered sadly. “Our father passed away years ago. My mother is close by, on the Northern Continent, but Reyna has no blood relation to her. Her own mother died when she was young.”