by Gemma Voss
No response. “I know you’re having a hard time,” I say. “Just tell me everything, and I’ll listen.”
He rounds the corner like a man on a mission, and he’s out of my view for a few seconds. “Kila!” I call, now refusing to jog just because he can’t slow down for me. I swing around the corner, where an oddly shaped junction divvies into three options— the stairwell, the elevator, and the hall towards Jen’s office. I expect him to be waiting at the elevator, perhaps with a broody expression on his face. Instead, he stands with the stairwell door open. When I catch up to him and go to open my mouth, he tugs me into the stairwell, hauls me against the cinder-block wall, and covers my lips with his own.
I am just about to interrupt him with a warning, but I notice the way he keeps his tongue carefully inside his mouth. Instead of a typical make-out session, we’re grinding against one another as he peppers my face and neck with soft close-mouthed kisses. He presses his cheek against mine, slides our noses together, and gently runs his hand over my hair. I relax under his grip and forget everything.
A breathy sigh escapes me as my thoughts slide away. What else could there be but the heat of him in this moment? We hang onto one another with desperate lust, caressing and dry-humping like horny teenagers. This alien makes me crazy. His touch drives me wild. That intensity… that need that emanates from him… It’s enough to make me forget that we’ve only just met and his own people want to take him away from me.
What was it Jen said? Don’t get attached? Too late. Too too late.
***
KILA
Up until this moment, I had been needing her for too long. To have her in my arms and kissing me will only be temporary relief, but I take what I can get. Every second feeds me. I feel stronger just by the simple act of sliding her lips between my teeth and eliciting a quiet moan. I don’t dare to let my tongue touch her now, at work. But I need her, and from the way she responds, I know she needs me too.
We kiss like this for a while, her breasts pressed against my chest and her legs clutched around my torso. I remember briefly how I’d had misgivings about the human practice of smashing faces together. Just another on my growing list of past errors in judgment. Even without tongue, the intimacy between us is palpable.
As I guide my fingers up under her top she whimpers, and I feel the twitch of excitement her body makes when our bare skin is touching. Her responses are like oil on the fire of my need. I slide my hand further and palm her breast. Only the silky fabric of her little cup coverings stands in my way. I squeeze and rub my thumb over her nipple, delighting in the way it immediately hardens to a peak.
“Mmph— Kila,” she squeaks, breaking away from my lips. “We need to stop.”
I sigh. She is right, but I am still disappointed. I spooked her by getting too excited. If only I had held back a little longer, I would have squeezed in some more kissing time…
She unwinds herself from my body, and I help her to get her feet back on the ground. She rests against me for a support with her palm pressed on her forehead.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I just… needed you.”
“I know. I know, and I’m not complaining,” Ella says with reddening cheeks. “It’s just... We haven’t even talked. And we have to come back with lunch like we said we would.”
I frown. “They deserve to starve considering the disrespect they showed you today.”
“I didn’t like the stunt they pulled either, but we have to deal with it. Let’s walk and talk. We’ll take these stairs. It’s more private, and we’re here after all.” After adjusting her under clothes which I so ruthlessly ruffled, she leads the way down the concrete stairwell. I start by telling her what we learned from the Alliance investigation team, how angry I was, and how my team reacted to it. By the time I am done, we stand at the cafeteria buffet, gathering food.
“I don’t understand,” she says, ladling soup into the small capsules we will travel back with. “Are you really so different to them? I didn’t know you before, so I wouldn’t know… Has your personality just changed that drastically?”
“Kar’Kali do not revel in their personality traits like humans do. Perhaps I would describe Kiva as positive, Vala as stoic, and Pakka as serious—”
“And Mori is a pain in the ass?” she suggests, securing the top on her soup container.
I chuckle. “Sure, if this phrase means annoying and rude. But these things are not meant to matter in our culture. They are meant to be put aside for duty. I have always been a little more pessimistic than others. I have always struggled with my anger, and this is not the first time I have been reprimanded for being difficult, or stubborn. What I feel now… It’s hard to describe. I do not feel differently, but I feel uninhibited. I will admit they are right that I am out of control by their own standards. But I no longer can bring myself to care. The more I acknowledge its rightness, the more I feel free from guilt.”
She smiles at me, and I believe she is proud. She didn’t like how guilty I felt on Saturday, when I tried to stop myself from taking pleasure from her body. I don’t know if I am right to feel this way, but at least it pleases my Ella. To humans, I suppose that sharing these thoughts is worth celebrating. Then, her face falls and she sets down the soup ladle.
“What will happen if they put in the suppressor again, Kila? Do you know?”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t. But I know for certain that my body’s desire for you will be gone. The part of myself that I have shown you, the person I am deep in my mind… that will never go away. But maybe you won’t see him anymore.”
She slams her last container of soup onto the tray we’ve been preparing. “How can they do that? After you guys lost everything, can’t they give you this one thing?”
“They don’t owe me anything. This upsets you, the idea of my changing?” I ask, eyeing her thoughtfully as I add a pile of bread onto our tray.
“Yes, of course!” she replies.
“Because you’d like to be with me,” I suggest.
Her mouth quivers, shaping as though to speak but hesitating. “I… I… want to keep spending time with Kila, the Kila that I know. I care about you. I like… the idea of being with you, yes,” she spills the words with fluttering hands.
“I’m not gone yet,” I assure her, picking up the tray now that we’ve gotten everything we need. There is a strange stab in my chest at her unsureness, and I’m not sure what it means. What can I expect from her? To commit herself to me after one shared night together? A beautiful human woman like Ella is sure to have had many past sexual partners, ones that have had the opportunity to practice. Human men surely understand her needs better than I do.
It took our night together and the tragedy of a lifetime for me to realize that I can never let her go now. I know she wants me, but for how long? What does one mating mean to a human? Has she accepted the breeding bond? I should have conducted more research before we arrived on this mind-boggling planet.
She nods quietly, fiddling with the sleeves of her top. We make our way back through the halls and into the elevator. I realize I would give anything to know what she is thinking now.
“I’m so sorry,” she says finally, just as the elevator doors open up again. “I know I’ve already said it. But if I were in your shoes, I’d be a mess. I can’t stand to think about losing everything, all in one day, one moment. Kila, I hope you know that you’re allowed to feel however want to feel right now.”
“You are kind, Ella,” I say. “But that is not our way. Losing everything… that has not happened just yet. And I seek to keep what little I have left.”
Chapter 18
ELLA
One month.
One month of torture, sexual tension, stolen minutes, and stairwell kisses.
It has been one month since I met Kila, one month since he fucked me within an inch of my life. And every day since then my feelings for him have grown deeper.
Every day we share glances across the room while we
work on Project Suppressor Chip, the one that is meant to take him away from me. Most of the work I do for them in the absence of human interaction is either computer-based or done off-site.
Since the media has gotten more information about the Kar’Kali genocide and the surviving scientists that work at the facility, I’ve been receiving all kinds of calls and emails asking for interviews. Pakka shoots them all down, not wanting to “waste” time outside of the lab answering silly questions. Supportive pro-alien groups even held a vigil outside the gates and left a memorial to the Kar’Kali victims in the local park. But soon after all the news coverage had dropped off, the protesters were back and in bigger numbers than ever. The war in Sector 5 has become an even stickier subject, with many of the protesters subscribing to the conspiracy theory that the genocide never even occurred. In the hopes that I can squash the misinformation, I go out and attend the interviews on their behalf or provide answers by email that get printed in on-line articles.
It’s brought me some unwanted negative attention from online trolls, but I know it’s something that needs to be done. Even if the Kar’Kali don’t understand the concept of PR, people in the world need to know what happened to their species.
When lunch time comes around, Kila and I immediately head for the door together. We share thirty precious minutes of alone time. Sometimes, he grabs me at the earliest opportunity to kiss me until my lips are numb. Other days, we just talk and talk about anything and everything.
I’ve been giving him movies to watch, almost every day since the first one. He watches them at night and returns them in the morning. They certainly fascinate him, whether he enjoys them or not. It is pretty funny to find out which genres an alien likes. Surprisingly, Sci-Fi does not work for him at all. He typically criticizes the made-up science featured in space travel films ( “A laser saber hardly seems practical” ) and wonders at the aesthetic choices ( “If I had that many buttons on a ship, I’d never get anything done” ). He seems to prefer fantasy movies, because it is entirely unique to anything he’s seen before, or historical films because he’s interested to know about Earth’s past and the places to be seen outside of the U.S.
Today, he hands me The Wizard of Oz, and I curiously await his opinion.
“This was very strange. But I liked it. I liked the songs,” he says. “The voice of the young female… it made my heart hurt.”
“Hmm, what kind of music did you have on Kar’Kali. Anything like these songs?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “Nothing like it. We have drums with clapping, and a… how would you call it— A rod with holes in it?”
“A flute,” I suggest, miming it with my fingers.
“That is it,” he says. His eyes stare off towards the wall, seeing nothing. “I felt very sad after I watched this movie. I wished that you were there to explain why.”
“You don’t need me to explain why you’re sad, Kila,” I say. “But I wish I was there too. Just to be with you when you were sad.” I tuck my DVD into my bag and stow it in the locker beneath the central lab bench.
“I just think there is a high probability that I will never return to Kar’Kal,” he says. “I was thinking of this while I watched the movie.”
“Because Dorothy was trying to go home,” I suggest, putting on my psychological analysis hat.
“Perhaps,” he sighs. “But I think it was the red flowers. They remind me of the Kar’Kal ririna.”
Just when I think we’re going to have a lovely moment, Kiva pops into our conversation. “Ririna! Oh I miss the scent of ririna. Did you know that when crushed and squeezed for their oils, the ririna can cause hallucinations if inhaled via an infuser?”
We both turn to glare at him. He has the sense to look blue in the face with embarrassment, but not for the right reasons. “I haven’t... I haven’t… done it myself! I’m speaking theoretically.”
Pakka emerges from the equipment closet and lights up immediately. “Ella! There you are. I was wondering. It’s already 9:30 and its not like you to be late.”
“Oh,” I dart a nervous glance at Kila. “It’s just… well, I have to take a car right now and park in the back lot. Jen’s suggestion. My brother lent me his old car since he uses the free transport buses now too.”
“But why?” Pakka asks.
“The protesters in the front lot,” I say, busying myself with a pencil that sits out on the lab bench top. “They’re growing in numbers.”
Kila’s mouth tightens. “Are you leaving out some of the necessary details, Ella?”
It’s a unique moment that Kila and Pakka find themselves united in their glares, rather than saving them solely for one another. They are all rippling arm muscles, crossed threateningly over their chests and straining at the sleeves of their lab jumpsuits.
“I may have received some death threats,” I quietly admit.
“WHAT?” Kila thunders.
“But don’t worry about it, okay! They were more directed at the whole building. I was only mentioned in a few of them. I mean, you should see how many death threats Jen has received since the news was all in a tizzy over us. She gets them from both sides, since a bunch of conspiracy theorists think it’s all a hoax, and a bunch of them think we were all aware that a horrible bio weapon was being designed here and that we were all paid o—”
Kila has begun pacing, and his black irises start expanding, whites receding to slivers at the edges of his eyes.
“Shall we put him in for a data reading now?” Vala suggests.
“Come now, Vala,” Pakka tuts. “Ella-vi could be in serious danger. And Jen! She’s never mentioned this to me.”
“Pakka, you never even see her,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“We… share messages,” Pakka sniffs.
Kila cracks his knuckles and whirls toward his team leader. He looks primed for a fight. “I should be accompanying her home each night so long as she wishes it. She is in danger, and you worry about keeping her from me more than protecting her well-being. Pakka, I have had it. I have been loyal to your commands out of respect for our ways but that is done now.”
“I am inclined to agree,” Pakka says with a tired tone of concession.
“YOU WILL NOT KEEP HER FR—” Kila draws up short. “What? You agree?”
“My main reasons for keeping you on lockdown have been avoiding attachment and preventing you from causing violence as a result of your territorial instincts,” he explains. “Seeing as the former goal has been a loss from the very beginning…”
Kiva draws up to our sides as well, shaking his head. “Pakka, you should have known in the first place that Kila’s attachment would be immediate. That is the very biological goal of the mating bond. In the wilds of Pre-Archaic Kar’Kal, thousands and thousands of passings ago, only the male that protected his fated mate would have produced an heir, evolutionarily favoring the strongest bonds, again and again.”
“Yes,” Mori adds with a grin, “Until kilo-passings later, when a well-trained soldier devolves into Deviancy at the mere sight of a human female.”
“Alright, HAR HAR, very funny, Kila is a cave man,” I snap, baring my teeth at Mori. “Leave him alone. I’m hardly in mortal peril but I’ll take what I can get. Kila’s coming home with me, then.”
“Mmm,” muses Kiva, “And never underestimate the female’s territorial protectiveness over her male either.”
“Precisely,” Kila purrs, sending me a heated look. “I will protect my fierce viki from these threats, but I would never dream of protecting anyone from her wrath. Whoever incurs it, shall be assumed deserving of it.”
***
Knowing that by the end of the day I will have Kila all to myself, work flies by quickly. I rush through my emails and calls, re-organize the cabinets, and clean every bench surface running on the energy of my excitement. I won’t be alone in my bed thinking of Kila tonight. I’ll be beside him, finally, and we can leave behind the whole world.
I can tell he’s just as
eager. His glances my way are longing; his eyes are fiery with want. At exactly five o’clock, I log off the computer system and start locking up. Kila stands by the exit, waiting. Pakka, Mori, Kiva, and Vala watch us apprehensively as I bolt for the door that Kila swings open for me.
All I hear before I’m in the hallway is Vala’s quiet question: “Will you still push for the suppressor then?”
I don’t stop to listen to the reply. It doesn’t matter.
Kila and I make our way down the hall. We are sharing a massive grin. I let out a giggle, like a goddamn schoolgirl. What is happening to me? At the sound of it, Kila laughs too.
“Look at us,” he says, as we draw to a stop in front of the elevator. “We are ridiculous.”
I swallow my laughter. “That’s love for you,” I say before thinking. Then I freeze up.
Kila just nods. With a hand on the small of my back, he leads me into the elevator. “Is it? I had not realized. This emotion is quite multi-faceted.”
“Kila,” I say slowly, my stomach beginning to tangle up. “It just slipped out. I’ll explain it to you this time.”
“Oh, I understand it,” he tells me lightly, as if we are discussing a basic word definition, just like when I informed what a ‘hoagie’ was. “We are in love. I have been studying it.”
I am speechless. When we step out of the elevator, the lobby is so crowded with staff making their way to the front gate that I hold my words inside. The last thing I need is to be having an L-word conversation in the presence of dozens of alien scientists. Is it really that simple to him? A word that my long list of ex-boyfriends seemed to be allergic to? It must be that he doesn’t really understand it. He just thinks he does. To him, it’s just an extension of the mating call.
“This way to the back lot,” I say, veering to the right, and then right again down a narrow passageway. Only a few others exit along with us. This lot is reserved for the higher-level staff, typically those that are more likely to stay after hours. Almost all the spots are assigned, so we must trek all the way to the tree line, where my brother’s old Nissan truck is parked.