So she opened her dating apps and browsed for anyone new. Almost everyone used dating apps, and Lois had several. She had one for the San Diego area and one for the state, though she almost never travelled further than San Francisco just to meet a man. She had one for Arizona that she rarely bothered with, and one for government employees.
Some of them were gimmicky, some of them were more like playing a game, some were relaxed and casual, others were serious. All some of them wanted was a username and email address, others wanted her height, weight, age, and annual income.
It wasn’t that Lois couldn’t get a date; she actually went on lots of dates. But she hadn’t found anyone she wanted to stay with. She had a three date rule that most guys didn’t get past.
For her, date number four was when you silently admitted you liked each other, and wanted to be exclusive, and be ‘in a relationship’. That was why, if she didn’t feel a spark by the end of the third date, she didn’t go on a fourth. She didn’t want to start a relationship she didn’t actually want to be in.
Lois thought that was pretty fair. She always gave everyone a chance. She’d been on a lot of dates with men she didn’t like because of the three date rule, waiting for the spark.
Lois’ problem now was that she had been on the sites long enough to have exhausted them. She’d already pulled all the fish out of the sea. She had already dated, or rejected, or been rejected by all the men on them, and all the men she knew in person too. Now all she could do was wait for new arrivals, and even then not all of them appealed to her.
Nevertheless, she had a few notifications and messages to reply to, and it passed the time while she ate her lunch. She had worked at DETI for eight years already, time enough to get to meet most of the single men in the building at holiday and retirement parties. She had flirted with a handful of them over the years, even gone home with one or two, but for some reason, she just didn’t like them enough to stay with them. In the end, they all looked the same to her. None of them were special in that indescribable way Lois thought they should be special, if she was going to spend the rest of her life with them.
She was tired of the same old conversations, the same old intrigues. The patterns of dating were always the same, no matter who it was with. She always had to explain what she did for a living, trying not to make it sound like a big deal that she was prohibited from talking about some of it. Then there was the usual family run-down, where did she live, did she have any pets, did she ever go surfing?
It never seemed boring when she was doing it, looking at the smiling man across from her, laughing with him as she thought maybe this was the spark, maybe he was the one. She usually had a good time at least, and she got to go to a lot of good restaurants and bars. She knew all the hidden little places in San Diego. But when she was looking at their pictures, trying to work up the energy to start from the beginning and do it all again, she felt tired.
By the time she’d caught up on all her profiles, it was time to head back. Over the years she had learned to time her lunch breaks perfectly. She stood and dusted the sand off her skirt, then took one last look at the beach, the sea, the palm trees, and all the people in beachwear playing with their dogs or surfing or selling sunglasses. Then she walked back to the street and put her heels back on.
Lois had been promoted to Intake Officer just over two years ago. She loved her job, and she knew she was lucky to have that - a job where she felt she mattered and made a difference. It was a good government job too with excellent benefits. She worked with good, friendly people, and it was often a joy to go to work. There were hard days too, but the majority of what she did was helping refugees make lives for themselves on Earth, and how could she feel bad about that?
Her thoughts turned back to Zir. She didn’t want to, but again she wondered if he was unhappy. The other Volin she knew were much friendlier than he was. She wondered if something horrible had happened to him on Teiss. He wouldn’t be the only one, she knew that. She had heard terrible stories of what the Ypex invasion had done to the Volin home world. The people weren’t fleeing to Earth because they wanted a holiday.
Lois sighed. It wasn’t her place to know his past if he didn’t want her to. It was Zir’s business. They just worked together, and not even closely, or every day. It still niggled at her though. Building warm, welcoming, fulfilling lives for the Volin was her job, and she considered it her calling, as embarrassing as that sounded. She didn’t want a single one to regret coming to her planet, her home.
She hadn’t been an Intake Officer when Zir had emigrated, she hadn’t given him his orientation, but he still managed to feel like unfinished business to her, the one that got away. His moodiness hurt her professional pride. He had arrived on Earth three years ago. He was an adult, he was well-established, he was not her responsibility and he didn’t want her help, that was clear. She just needed to pull his thorn out of her side and get on with it. She couldn’t win them all.
But if she was honest with herself, she had to admit that more than professional pride, it was wounded pride. If she could fix the problem, whatever it was, maybe he wouldn’t be such a dick to her.
Lois shook off the distracting thoughts as she entered the DETI building again, grateful for the icy air conditioning as it washed over her. The building was fairly new, and the lobby was clean and spacious, the floor polished and light streaming in through the glass front, filtered to keep the heat out. She felt the damp sweat on her back freeze and dry in an instant.
The downside of leaving the building for lunch was that she then had to go through security again to get back in. She knew she was already being scanned for weapons or dangerous chemicals as she walked towards the security guards and gave them her bag to search with a smile. One of the guards was human, and the other was Volin. Their names were Lee and Tol. Lois saw them several times a day as she came and went through the lobby.
“Hi, Lois,” Lee said, taking her bag and peering into it, moving the contents around with a swab that was treated to react to any residue that shouldn’t be in there.
“Hi, Lee, Tol,” she responded, nodding at each in turn. Tol smiled at her, showing the white ridges that acted as his teeth. He had a big chip on the top left, giving him an endearingly lopsided, rascally look, like a child missing a tooth. His scales were browner than Zir’s, and had almost orange, coppery highlights in places. She could tell from his pupils that he was focusing on her with no trouble, and she felt the familiar pique at Zir again.
“Good afternoon, Lois,” he said. “Is the weather nice?”
“It is, Tol, thank you for asking.” Lois knew, or at least strongly suspected, that Tol made an effort to ask a question to people while they waited for the okay to go upstairs. She appreciated that he was trying hard to practice his English, socialise with his coworkers, and make people feel at ease. She had also realised, however, that he had four questions he rotated.
“That is good, perhaps I will go out later,” Tol said, enunciating carefully. Then he looked over her shoulder and said, “Hello, Zir.”
Lois stiffened. She didn’t want to turn around, but she felt his shadow as he came to stand next to her at the security station. She peeked at him and found him staring at her from too close, his eyes unfocused. Lois gave him what she hoped was a polite nod and looked away again. Why did he turn his head to face her, if he wasn’t going to focus on her? If he thought he was passing for polite, he was wrong. Her job demanded she know enough about the Volin to know the difference, which he must have been aware of.
Zir greeted Tol curtly in Volin.
“Lee does not speak Volin. We should speak English in front of humans,” Tol replied good-naturedly.
Lois could speak Volin anyway, which Zir knew, so if he was trying to hide something from her he could save his breath.
“I am not addressing him,” Zir continued in Volin.
Lois scowled at Zir, but turned away quickly to keep Lee from seeing when he looked up. She didn�
��t want the guard to realise he had been slighted. Zir’s check was finished and he moved past her into the building.
“Here you go,” Lee said, handing back her bag. Lois hesitated. She wanted to give Zir more time to get further away, to make sure they didn’t end up sharing an elevator. She tried to look down the corridor to make sure he was gone.
“Do not be worried about Zir,” Tol said suddenly, catching her eye as she realised she’d been rumbled. “His bad behaviour makes me laugh. He is a male who says ‘ouch’ when he shows his crest to the sun and it burns him.”
Lois couldn’t help giving him a confused look. “I don’t think I got that,” she said.
Tol laughed and seemed to search for the words. “The Volin have a saying, ‘When you want the tree, do not sit on the branch.’ Zir is a branch-sitter.”
Lois was none the wiser but Tol didn’t seem offended, only amused. He laughed again. “I cannot tell you more than that. It is up to the branch-sitter to get off the branch,” he told her, then winked.
Lois was baffled, but warmed by Tol’s enigmatic good humour. A line was forming behind her now so she took her bag and nodded to Tol. “Have a good day, Tol,” she said, meaning it.
“Thank you, Lois,” he said, nodding back. Lee gave her a brusque wave as he dealt with the next person.
As she went up to her floor in the elevator alone, she pictured Zir sitting on a branch in a grump, and chuckled. Maybe Tol was onto something there.
Chapter 3
After work, Lois killed time in the café with a coffee and a sandwich for dinner, then headed to her Volin class. She was at the first Advanced level after three years. She had always loved languages, wanting to bridge different cultures, be an envoy or an interpreter. She had qualifications in Mandarin, Arabic, Spanish, French, German and Urdu at different levels from college and high school, and she knew a little of a dozen more languages.
She had started learning Volin as soon as she could, as soon as humanity had the materials to teach the language. To her, it felt like the new alien languages were the really important ones. The world was changing.
When the refugees from Teiss arrived, she saw how scared and unsure they were, and speaking their language helped. They were all taught the language of their host country on the two-year journey through space, but it was a small thing she could do to show they were welcome. She knew she would be terrified stepping out onto an alien planet after two years on a ship, with everything she had known before destroyed. She would like it if someone spoke English to her then.
Her teacher was an older male Volin named Ban. Volin names were too long and complex for most humans to pronounce, so they were encouraged to choose a single syllable from them to offer to humans as a name.
Ban kept his name written out in full on the board in front of the class, and anyone was welcome to attempt to pronounce it at any time for extra credit. He used it as a Get Out of Jail Free card. If a student couldn’t answer one of his questions, they would get a free pass if they could read his name. So far, not a single person had accomplished it, though Ban had told Lois she had only been one syllable out.
Ban was an academic type, who clearly loved teaching and delighted in the Volin language. He hadn’t been qualified before coming to Earth, there not being a call for Volin teachers on Teiss, but he took to it like a duck to water. He was also an excellent teacher of the nuances of the culture. Ban had told them that he had emigrated along with his three sons rather than lose contact with them. He had thought there would be no place for him on Earth because he was too old for manual labour, but he had been happy to be proved wrong.
Ban’s scales were a dull swampy green, and the feathers on his head were thin and spindly, barely more than spines. He didn’t wear human clothes, instead wearing a long poncho-like robe that was open at the sides with loose trousers underneath. He said quite a trade of native goods had sprung up in the Volin dorms, and an old lady next door made his clothes for him. Lois wondered if there was something going on there, but of course she never asked.
The DETI building had quietened down by the time she made her way to the seminar room where the classes were held. There were still a few late-workers heading for the lobby, people who had stayed for dinner or who had been making use of the gym. By the time she left the class, Lois knew the lights would be dimmed to save energy and she would be almost alone.
She walked into the classroom perfectly in her element. She knew she was a teacher’s pet, always had been. Ban was standing at his lectern going over his notes as always.
“Good evening, Lois,” he said in Volin as she entered. Even now, with her almost fluent, he greeted her as if it was a test.
“Good evening, Ban,” she replied, also in Volin, and he looked pleased. These classes were conducted entirely in Volin. They couldn’t say everything they wanted to say, the conversations were still a little basic, and people still had to pause to think of the words they wanted, but Lois thought the class did pretty well, and so did Ban.
There were eight students in this class, all from different departments. She knew all but one of the other Intake Officers were learning Volin, and Susan was in the Beginners 2 class. It wasn’t required of them, and Lois was proud so many of her co-workers were making the effort.
A couple of other students were already there, so Lois took her seat and pulled out her notebook and pen. They had been given homework to prepare a discourse on a historical subject. Lois had chosen the establishment of the United Nations, the original one, before it became the United Nations of Earth. It was long enough ago that people might not already know everything, but not so long ago that it wasn’t relevant. Lois wasn’t terribly proud of her planet’s history either, pre-21st century, so this seemed like a nice, optimistic topic that reflected the best in human endeavour. At least, she thought so.
The class started the same way it always did, with Ban going around the room asking everyone how they were, what they had been up to. Someone would interrupt to ask him what he had been doing, teasing him about the woman next door until he got flustered and moved on to the homework. The volunteers for that week presented for five minutes, then the class discussed it for ten. The idea was just to generate conversation.
The time always passed quickly for Lois and she regretted when the class ended. But she packed up her bag like everyone else and said goodbye to Ban. The other students headed for the exit, but Lois turned the other way, going back to her office, passing a janitor vacuuming the hall carpets on her way. The building was quiet, shutting down for the night, the lights low.
Lois had keys to her office and left her class supplies in her drawer, then grabbed her gym bag from under the desk. It was only 8 o’clock, she could still fit in a workout. As she got dressed into her kit in the changing rooms, the few other people were changing back into their day clothes ready to go home. In the machine room, she got her workout playlist going on her Gadgit and started on the treadmill. The only other person in there left before she finished, and she was alone.
This was another thing that she had perfectly timed through repetition. The gym closed at 9pm and she walked out the door on the dot, freshly showered. She went back to her office to leave her gym bag, fishing out the stuff that now needed washing and reminding herself to bring more tomorrow. She locked the office behind her and headed home on public transport.
Lois lived in an apartment high up in a block on the edge of the city. It wasn’t an old building and the apartment was nice. It was bigger than she needed, given how little time she spent there. Just from the size of the kitchen, it was clear that this apartment had been intended for people who would host parties, or at least have friends over. The huge fridge was embarrassingly empty. Only the bedroom really looked lived in, and not in a good way. She had a bad habit of discarding her shoes and clothes without putting them away before falling into bed.
She stripped off her smart suit and let it drop as she stepped out of her heels. She’d put
it all away over the weekend when she did the rest of her housework. She pulled on her pyjamas and snuggled under her duvet, ordering the lights off. The bed was another thing that was too big for one person. Lois always turned her back to it and slept on her side, facing the edge, with her Gadgit on the bedside table in case of an emergency at work. She fell asleep thinking about all the things she had to do at the office the next day.
Chapter 4
A couple of days later, Lois waited eagerly in Arrivals. Her smart skirt-suit was straightened, she had her clipboard, and her smile was in place. She was ready.
Lois did fewer intakes than people expected. First of all, the huge transporter ships from Teiss only arrived at Earth five or six times a year. Each one carried up to a million and a half people. They were much too huge to land, so they sent the passengers down to the surface in dropships distributed among the hundreds of Extra-Terrestrial Immigration offices across the globe. The USA had three such offices: San Diego, Denver, and Richmond.
The biggest group Lois had ever had arrive at once had been two thousand, and they had been divided between all the Intake Officers so she personally had only had to deal with three hundred, which had felt like more than enough at the time. The smallest she had ever done was four people.
Lois’ job was admin most of the time, sorting out accommodation, work clearance, Visas and citizenship for the new arrivals. The orientations she gave when they first landed were the reason she did her job.
She was the first Earth contact the Teissian immigrants had, so of course she was up to her eyeballs in training. Cultural education, cultural sensitivity training, languages, self-defence, conflict resolution, first aid, interpersonal skills… And for all that she had to go on refresher courses every six months. Her job gave her a sense of pride, more than anything else in her life. She lived for these moments and they made the weeks of paperwork and fighting with the Rhacahr interface worth it.
The E.T. Guy (Office Aliens Book 1) Page 2