Alienated

by Melissa Landers

  “Yes, that’s typically how it works.”

  “But what about the genetics program?” L’eihrs were known for their meticulous, organized breeding. Why would they want to clone people who lived thousands of years ago when they’d achieved so many advances since then?

  Aelyx’s voice was guarded when he said, “Our geneticists terminated the program.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we all started growing tentacles.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “Really?”

  “No,” he said, totally deadpan. “Not really.”

  Damn, she’d walked right into that one.

  Smirking at her expression, Aelyx continued. “The program was deemed obsolete twenty years ago. It’s as simple as that.”

  She wanted to ask why L’eihrs didn’t procreate the natural way, but the idea of discussing sex with Aelyx skeeved her out. “Does that mean everyone younger than twenty is a clone?”

  He nodded, considering his next move.

  “So you don’t have parents?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she cringed. What a stupid, insensitive thing to say! “I mean, you’re adopted—not that you don’t have parents.”

  He studied her for a few moments, the expression on his face unreadable. “All citizens of L’eihr are my family.” His clipped tone told her the subject was closed, and to confirm it, he slammed his knight down like a gavel. “Checkmate.”

  Her victory tingles morphed into the sick weight of disappointment. Not only had she lost—again—but their conversation had taken a hard right turn into Awkwardville. One thing was certain: she’d never complain about her parents to Aelyx again. Oh, boo-frickety-hoo, my mom and dad love each other too much. He’d probably kill to have that “problem.”

  Uncertain of what to say, she slouched forward and cleared the board in silence.

  A few minutes later, Dad leaned through the doorway and announced supper was ready. It was about time. She needed something to cover up the sour taste of defeat that lingered on her tongue.

  They took their seats at the table, and Cara leaned over her plate to inhale the mingled scents of pepperoni and mozzarella—pure, greasy goodness from above. If anything could make her feel better, it was this. She leaned toward Aelyx and tried to lighten the mood.

  “Prepare to have your taste buds rocked,” she told him. “The ambassador said L’eihr food is really simple, so you’re going to love this.”

  “What is it?”

  “Piiiii-zzzza,” she said reverently. “Otherwise known as culinary Nirvana.”

  He wrinkled his nose, casting a dubious glance at his slice.

  “Trust me, it’s amazing.” She tapped a nail against the golden crust. “There’s bread on the bottom, then a layer of tomato sauce—that’s a vegetable, by the way—”

  “Fruit,” Mom corrected.

  “Yeah, yeah. Then it’s topped with cheese, which is made from cow’s milk. But the best part is pepperoni sausage.”

  “And how is sausage made?” Aelyx asked.

  Dad laughed dryly from across the table. “Ignorance is bliss in this case.”

  “Just try it,” Cara prompted.

  Aelyx gripped the slice with stiff fingers and held it away from his face for a few moments before lifting it to his mouth to pull free a tiny bite. He worked his jaw cautiously as he chewed, like the pizza might explode if he bit down too hard. Just when Cara expected his expression to transform in rapture, his eyes widened and began watering like he might get sick. Quick as a cobra strike, he snatched a napkin and pressed it to his lips while gagging and swallowing at the same time.

  “Are you okay?” She shot a hand out to comfort him, then drew back, remembering how he’d reacted to her touch in the living room.

  After swallowing hard a few times, he nodded.

  “Wow, you really hate it.” Which was putting it mildly. The way Aelyx glared at his plate told Cara he wanted to torture that pizza until it begged for death. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” She pushed away from the table and offered, “I’ll make you a sandwich.”

  “No!” He flashed his palm at her in desperation, napkin still clutched against the corner of his mouth. “Please, no more.”

  “You have to eat something.”

  “My supplements can sustain me for weeks.”

  “Pills?” Cara asked. “You can’t live off pills.”

  “Injectables, actually, and I can. For a while, at least.”

  “Out of the question.” Part of her job was to keep Aelyx comfortable and happy, and no exchange student of hers would resort to freebasing nutrients. “There has to be something you can handle, and I’m going to find it.”

  Aelyx pulled the napkin free long enough to warn, “Your ‘culinary Nirvana’ was bad enough going down, Cah-ra. I don’t want to taste it again coming up, which is what will happen if you force anything else on me tonight.”

  “Oh. I didn’t think about that.”

  Her cheeks heated as she realized pushing unfamiliar food on Aelyx was just as bad as not feeding him at all. The way his skin paled reminded her of the time Tori had double-dog-dared her to try raw oysters, which had looked exactly like mucus. Turned out they’d tasted like mucus, too. Cara had upchucked afterward, and the sight of those half-digested mollusks had spurred a pukefest that’d lasted the whole evening.

  “You know what?” Cara said, sliding her plate aside. “I’m not hungry, either.” It was time to take her hostess swagger to the next level. “Let’s talk about something besides food. Tell me about your trip from L’eihr to Earth. How long did it take?”

  For the next twenty minutes, Cara nodded intently, pretending to understand Aelyx’s tutorial on traveling at light speed and using wormholes as intergalactic shortcuts. By the time he finished, she was no closer to grasping the exact science of “space chronology,” as he called it, but at least his complexion had transformed from green to beige.

  Mission accomplished.

  Chapter Five

  Aelyx awoke in a sweaty haze, the same way he’d begun each morning since his arrival on Earth. He pulled off his dampened T-shirt and used it to blot the perspiration from his forehead, wondering when his body would adjust to this unfamiliar climate. Probably just in time for his departure.

  The bare taupe walls of his bedroom bathed in the gentle glow of the early morning sun reminded him of his quarters on L’eihr, exactly as his human hosts had intended. He indulged for a moment, closing his eyes and pretending he was there now. His longing for home made his chest ache and stole his breath. After eighteen years in the bustling Aegis, he couldn’t even sleep properly without his roommates snoring and rustling in their bunks an arm’s length away. Gods, he missed them.

  Fortunately, three days had passed, so he could finally reconnect with Syrine and Eron. Even though he had no progress to report, his heart raced in anticipation of glimpsing their faces.

  Aelyx pulled the com-sphere from beneath his pillow and whispered the passkey to unlock it. The brushed metal buzzed to life, tickling his palm as he spoke his friends’ names and waited for their own spheres to summon them.

  Eron’s hologram was the first to appear on the bedspread, his miniature fingers stretching toward Aelyx’s throat in the standard greeting. Judging by the tile wall and shiny chrome fixtures in the background, he’d locked himself in the bathroom.

  “Quiet,” Eron said, stepping into the porcelain tub and pulling the shower curtain closed behind him. “My human’s young cousin has taken a liking to me. I think he’s listening at the door.”

  Syrine’s image flickered to life. Shadows darkened the skin beneath her heavily lidded eyes, and her mouth sagged—obvious proof that the French boy hadn’t given her much peace.

  “Mother of L’eihr.” She rubbed her face with one palm. “Kill me now.”

  Aelyx offered a sympathetic grin. “Remember what I suggested if he refuses to observe boundaries?” No living creature could tolerate a kick to the reproductive orga
ns.

  “I’ll never earn his trust that way.” Syrine shook her head. “What about your female? Is she as tolerable as I predicted?”

  He considered a moment. Cara had made an obvious effort to be sociable in the past two days, filling their schedule with activities and conversation. He supposed talking with her was preferable to spending time alone.

  “Yes,” he finally decided. “Fairly tolerable.”

  “How about you?” she asked Eron.

  “I can’t complain. My family is quite welcoming. I rather like them, especially little Ming. He looks at me like I hand-carved the moon.”

  Syrine flashed an obscene gesture, not bothering to hide her jealousy. “When do you integrate with the others?”

  “Next week.”

  “I start tomorrow,” Aelyx added. He looked forward to his first day of school with all the enthusiasm of a man facing a lobotomy.

  “I haven’t been able to sneak away yet,” Eron whispered. “Have you?”

  Aelyx and Syrine both shook their heads. “We expected this,” Aelyx said. “But our host families will relax once we settle into a routine. I’ll try to plant my sh’alear in the next few days.”

  “So will I,” Eron promised, “if the child will give me a moment’s rest. I swear by the Mother he wants to play alien invaders all—” Three quick knocks sounded from Eron’s bathroom door, followed by a child’s high chirp. After muttering a good-natured curse, Eron shut down his sphere, disappearing from view.

  “We’ll have to do it soon.” Syrine paused to yawn. “It’ll take weeks to see results.”

  “Get some rest,” Aelyx told Syrine. “This will be over before long.” She nodded and her hologram vanished into the air like a wisp of smoke. With a sigh, he stuffed his com-sphere into his top dresser drawer.

  Raising his chin, he sniffed the air and recognized the stench of something humans called bacon. It was harsh, salty, and dripping with animal fat. He shuddered with disgust and grabbed his clothes. A cool shower would restore his body temperature, and if he hurried, he could claim the bathroom before Cara monopolized it for one of her hour-long grooming sessions.

  He turned the doorknob as quietly as possible and stepped into the hall. He was within two paces of the bathroom when Cara rounded the corner and met him face-to-face. She sucked in a startled breath, clutching the front of her bathrobe. Her eyes widened, traveling slowly down the length of his exposed chest while a burgundy flush spread across her cheeks.

  Fasha. What was he thinking leaving his room half dressed? Now he’d made the girl uncomfortable. He held the folded clothing high against his bare flesh, but that only seemed to make matters worse as her gaze darted to his abdomen and held there.

  He glanced down, wondering what had caught her attention. “Ah.” The answer came, and he smoothed two fingers over his lower stomach. “I don’t have what you call a belly button.”

  “Oh, right.” She cleared her throat and stared down at her slippered feet. “Because of the clone thing.”

  “No. Because we’re all born from artificial wombs. Even the Elders.”

  “Really? So it doesn’t matter how— Oh!” With a gasp, she pointed at his feet. “And your toes!”

  He’d forgotten humans still had five toes, and Cara probably didn’t realize hers would appear just as odd to him.

  “You’ll lose the smallest one in a couple thousand years,” he said. “Maybe sooner, if you stop mating like animals and reproduce with purpose.”

  “What the—” When her eyes turned to slits, he knew he’d said something wrong. Perhaps mating like animals had sounded too harsh, even if it was true. She kicked off her slipper and pointed to her ivory foot. “I like my pinkie toe just the way it is, and I’d rather grow a second head than let the government tell me who to sleep with!”

  “Of course.” He spoke in low tones, the way he’d seen humans placate domesticated canines. It seemed to work, because when he added, “Please forgive my rudeness,” she fingered her furry robe and gave a pardoning nod.

  “I made breakfast,” she said curtly. “It’s just the two of us.”

  Aelyx didn’t want breakfast, especially if bacon was involved, but he hated to anger Cara again so quickly. Besides, today marked the seventeenth anniversary of her birth, so he postponed his shower and prepared for the worst.

  “Happy birthday,” he told her while pulling on a clean T-shirt.

  “How’d you know?” Turning, she glanced over her shoulder and led him toward the kitchen. A symphony of unfamiliar odors mingled with the bacon to assault his nose and turn his stomach before he reached the doorway.

  “I requested a portfolio on your family several weeks ago.” When they reached the kitchen, he stopped short. The surface of the oak table was barely visible beneath dozens of breakfast dishes: bacon, eggs, cold cereals, a scorched assortment of breads, and clumsily chopped chunks of fruit.

  He stared at the smorgasbord in open-mouthed surprise. “This is a lot of food for two people. Where are your parents?”

  “At mass. They never miss it. I’m more of a cafeteria Catholic—I pick and choose when to go, what to believe. Drives Mom crazy.”

  Ah, yes, their God, whom Christians referred to as Father. Interesting that several galaxies away, his people prayed to the Sacred Mother and her children, the gods of L’eihr.

  Cara shrugged and nodded toward the table. “You can try a little of everything till you find something you like.”

  “You made all this for me?” Surely she didn’t expect him to sample each foul dish. He might not survive it.

  “Don’t panic. You don’t have to eat it all. But I can tell you don’t like the food here, and it’s my job to make sure you’re comfortable and happy.”

  Comfort and happiness: two states of being he’d never achieve on Earth.

  “You shouldn’t have,” he managed.

  She smiled and stood a bit straighter. “It was no big deal.”

  But clearly it was a “big deal.” She must have spent hours preparing the meal, and on her birthday, no less, so he forced a grin, took a plate, and spooned out a small serving of each food on the table.

  Twenty minutes later, he simply couldn’t take any more.

  “I’m sorry.” He tried to hold back a grimace. “I appreciate the effort.”

  “No biggie. But we have to find something you like before you lose weight.”

  “Actually, I’ve gained weight by default. L’eihr is slightly smaller than Earth, so my body is heavier on your planet.”

  “Really?” Her auburn brows rose toward her hairline. “How much heavier? Is it harder to move around?”

  “No, the difference is negligible, only a few pounds. But don’t worry about my nutrition. The supplements really do supply my body with most of my dietary needs.”

  Cara pursed her lips and tapped them with her index finger. “What do you eat for breakfast at home?”

  “Usually t’ahinni. It’s a basic grain and protein dish made with larun, my favorite flatbread.” Aelyx sighed, remembering the nutty, slightly smoky flavor of warm flatbread, freshly baked and crisp from the oven. He could almost taste it.

  “Does lar-uhn compare to anything here?”

  “Well…” He glanced around the table. “It’s difficult to explain, but maybe a cross between your wheat toast and that corn bread over there.”

  “Hmm.” Cara’s gaze shifted to the side and she fell silent a moment. A slow smile spread across her mouth. He wondered, a little nervously, what she was thinking.

  “Okay.” She pulled a folded piece of paper from her robe pocket and slapped it on the table. “I made a list of things we can do today.” She pointed a red fingernail at each item as she spoke. “We can go hiking. I thought about swimming, but I don’t think it’ll be warm enough. Or—”

  “Wait,” he said. “Isn’t it customary to celebrate your birthday with friends and family? Don’t worry about keeping me entertained. Do what you like; I can stay he
re and read.”

  “Eric and Tori have away games.” The corners of her mouth drooped into a scowl. “You’ll meet them at the party tonight.”

  The prospect didn’t seem to excite her. Before he had the chance to ask why, she pushed her chair away from the table and tossed the list into the recycling bin. “Let’s just take a walk. I’ll go get dressed.”

  Aelyx moved into a patch of shade and gazed at the silvery undersides of the leafy canopy shielding him from the sun. A light wind caressed his skin, offering a temporary reprieve from the oppressive heat. He pulled back his dampened hair and fastened it behind his neck.

  “We should’ve gone swimming.” Cara used a hand to fan her cheeks. The breeze shifted a branch from above, allowing the sunlight to touch her hair. The metallic strands seemed to ignite, glistening like a flame, and he glanced away. It was too much color, a sensory overload.

  “Is this what you’d call an Indian summer?” He squinted at the vivid green grass. No matter where he trained his gaze, he couldn’t escape Earth’s vibrancy.

  “No, because we haven’t had the first freeze yet. But this time of year’s always wonky. Next week we’ll probably be wearing sweaters.” She sat on a thick patch of grass and leaned against an oak tree. “Tell me about the weather on L’eihr. You have seasons, right?” Before he had a chance to respond, she said, “That’s a stupid question. Your planet revolves around a sun, so of course you have seasons.”

  “It’s not a stupid question.” He sat down in the cool grass opposite Cara. “Temperatures on L’eihr would fluctuate with the planet’s rotation if we didn’t manipulate the climate.”

  She leaned in his direction, eyes wide. “You control the weather?”

  “Of course. That shouldn’t surprise you.”

  “Well, what do I know about L’eihr? There’s not much information out there.”

  “That’s the point of the exchange. And humans are fairly close to achieving climate control. I’d say within the next two hundred years.”

  “Or sooner, if your scientists decide to share the secret.” She smiled and plucked a blade of grass from the ground.