We sit in stalemate for a while, the alien and I. I can’t speak for what is going on in his head for the duration of our stare-down, but I’m willing to wager its a lot less of a shitshow than whatever is going on in mine.
The first to break the silence is him — he reaches a large hand forward, long, clawed fingers extending to fiddle with a stray lock of my hair. I’m so utterly dumbstruck that I don’t even move, despite the ongoing surprise rattling my brain.
His lips part, something in his tongue slipping out in a murmur. I’m scared to think of what he said, but mostly don’t have the mental RAM to consider it right now.
“You were… talking to me.” I finally manage, intelligently. “In… my language?”
The alien hums in a manner I presume to be affirmative, sitting back on his haunches and dropping my hair. Silky cream gossamer is draped low on his hips, a shiny gunmetal-coloured metal circling his arms, tail and throat in a decorative cuff-like manner. I hadn’t noticed it before now, but he is dressed in a much more elaborate fashion than all the other Rheians I’ve seen.
“I listen,” he says simply, accent thick and slightly husky. I feel a little dizzy as the tones of his voice echo in my ears. His head tilts cutely, hair flopping around his horns with the movement. Perhaps I have finally snapped and lost my mind.
Is he saying that he learnt a completely new language just by listening?! Wait — where was he that he could listen to enough to be able to speak so comprehensively?
“Who are you…?”
I don’t realise I’ve said it aloud until I see his expression brightening, star-speckled eyes lighting up. He kicks into motion more eagerly than anticipated, flopping onto the ground and crossing his long, toned legs. It is an exercise in willpower not to ogle his thighs as the silky material slides and reveals more lavender flesh.
“Ivah,” he informs me simply, a long finger pointed to his own chest. It takes the rest of my willpower not to ogle the bountiful bosom on display there. That same finger then extends to press the tip of his claw gently into the soft flesh of my lip. “Now you.”
He’s so damn bossy, but at the same time appears kind of excited. It’s all I can focus on in an effort not to let his actions get to me as I answer without much thought. “Peppa.”
For some reason, upon hearing the name his features twist slightly. It’s as though he’s unsure about what he is hearing. His eyes hold my own for a few seconds before his lips part, the bottom of one of his canines peaking out cutely.
“You?”
“Yes, Peppa.” I confirm, resisting the temptation to offer my actual name instead. The nickname is much easier — it’s only two syllables after all, and three of the five letters are the same. I’ll tell him my real name another time, probably when he’s learnt enough to grasp the concept of human nickname culture.
The alien hums, adjusting his position. I find myself more thankful than ever that his people have taken to covering their crotch area, otherwise I would be getting a good eyeful.
“Say me,” Ivah speaks up after a moment, though it’s more of a demand, really.
“Say your name?” I clarify. I figure that the way he is learning our language is much the same way a toddler acquires language, and that it will help him more if I speak as I normally would.
I barely finish speaking before he is nodding hastily, his whole head moving and the wild, inky locks atop it flying about. It’s a wonder he doesn’t throw his neck out, what with the massive weight his horns must add.
“Ivah…?”
As soon as the name leaves my mouth, his movement halts and he looks at me with wide eyes. Even with so much of his dark sclera visible, there is no threat of it swallowing up the stunning galaxy that resides in his irises.
“More.”
His words startle a laugh out of me. “Uh… Ivah?”
It’s baffling, how elated he seems with so little. All I’m doing is saying his name? But it’s like I’ve pulled out a giant sack full of candy just for him.
“Nice,” he says, appearing as though he is struggling with the words he wishes to say despite the soft expression on his features. He reaches and trails sharp claws through the strands of hair framing my face. “You… nice.”
I’m unsure whether he is referring to me as a person, or the way I say his name. Either way, it makes something flip in my stomach — something I straight up choose to ignore.
“Peppa…” he murmurs, musing to himself. A smile stretches his lips, wicked fangs peaking out. “I like.”
My face hasn’t been this hot since my graduation ceremony.
/ / /
I wish I could say that I got to spend most of the day with Ivah, the first Rheian I have officially met, but the reality is that the time I had with him was short. I’m unsure what exactly happened, but at some point his ears had twitched, catching a sound far too specialised for my own to register, and he had given me a forlorn look before patting my head and promptly leaping off into the trees. He moved so quick that I only had to blink, and he was gone.
It saddens me more than I’m ready to admit to myself. I feel oddly… achy. I suppose its because I finally interacted with a native and only have half an hour’s worth of memory and a half-assed log to show for it.
I’m not really in the mood to continue my attempted observations today, and so begin the trudge back to base with a heavy heart. I don’t even take in the sights as I normally do on the way, thoughts consumed by giant purple aliens and the bizarre behaviours I’ve witnessed from them.
I don’t even realise I’ve made it all the way back until a voice breaks me from my reverie.
“Ah, Peppa! There you are!”
At this point, I’m not ashamed to confess that I jumped a bit in fright. Of all things, I hadn’t expected for Ritika to be greeting me here at the entrance of the compound.
“Uh, yes?” I move to where she stands, feet neatly behind the line that signifies the end of the lush Rheian forest and the beginning of the barren, man-made base. “Is everything okay?”
“Seamus is looking for you,” she blurts, seeming an odd mixture of alarmed and curious. “It’s probably to discuss your, um… your task.”
Ah. Great.
“Maybe he’s finally going to take it off me and give it to someone more appropriate,” I muse, not expecting the sudden pang in my chest at the thought. It seems I’ve grown more attached to this mission than I initially thought. Though, I wonder just how much today’s interaction has to do with that.
“Doubt it,” Ritika snorts, falling into step beside me. I have since changed course, now heading in the direction of Seamus’ office instead of my quarters. “I don’t know about him, but every day it becomes increasingly obvious who is more suited to the job than who.”
I level her with a curious sideways look. “Did something happen in the lab again?”
“DON’T even get me started,” Ritika huffs, her footsteps turning into more of a stomp with each word. “The dumbest shit happens when I leave the greenhouse for more than a minute, and it’s the same thing with the lab. I handed in some samples for them to test and now almost the entirely of lab five is covered in soot and grit and extinguishing foam.”
Even distracted as I am, Ritika’s familiar ranting brings a chuckle from my chest. I consider telling her about today’s experience, but can’t find a natural opening in the conversation for it and so decide to leave it for tomorrow. The rest of the trip to Seamus’ office is spent listening to the tiresome antics of the research assistants under Ritika’s jurisdiction. Upon arriving at the door, the dark-haired woman promptly pats me on the back and leaves.
There must be something in the air today, everyone seems hellbent on making a quick escape.
Swallowing and attempting to clear my mind before entering, I take a deep breath before rapping my knuckles against the aluminium door.
“Enter.”
I do as instructed, closing the door behind me with a heavy click. My superior’s face is somewhat unreadable today — what I can see of it, that is. He’s peaking through the blinds at his window, looking every bit like he’s spying on someone.
“Let me ask you a question, Miss Bardot,” he says, before I can even think about greeting him formally. “Do you trust them? Our friends with guns?”
For a moment, I consider constructing a more diplomatic answer, especially considering he used to be one of those so-called ‘friends with guns’. That goes down the drain when I recall Davis and the answer slips out before I can stop it. “No.”
Seamus seems to approve of my response, humming before releasing the blinds with a snap and turning to face me. “Nevermind that. What do you have for me? I trust you’ve continued your progress and have something to show for it?”
Annoyance wriggles beneath my lungs, but I make a pointed effort to breathe and ignore it. “Actually, I do.”
His attention had begun to wander back to the window, but at my words his eyes snap back to my form. He drops the pen in his hand onto the desk, stepping forward with mild interest. “Oh?”
I take a deep breath, attempting to organise my words.
“I spoke with one of the natives.”
The way his eyes shoot comically wide almost makes up for the absolute interrogation I know I’m about to get.
/ / /
“Here are all the files we have on the natives.”
Said files are promptly dropped (read: thrown) onto the table in front of me, delivered with perhaps the most scathing look I’ve ever been subjected to. It almost makes me want to bow my head and apologise, but really this situation isn’t my fault, so I keep my chin up and eyes level. Besides, even if she’s upset about things she doesn’t need to go and make a mess of the files I’m meant to be reading up on.
“Thanks.”
Samara rolls her eyes when I don’t cave to her bitterness, folding her arms and looking more unimpressed than I’ve ever seen anyone. “Uh-huh, no problem. A lot of these are written in a particular academic style, which I’m sure you’re not used to. The rest of us are busy, but when you have something you don’t understand you can bring it to us and we will explain it to you.”
Right. Just because I don’t have an education in zoology, doesn’t mean I don’t have an education at all. She better leave soon, because she is doing a fantastic job of pissing me off.
“Of course, I’ll remember that,” I say, smiling with my teeth. “As thanks, remind me to bring a pamphlet for you next time for the anger management classes I run. We hold them fortnightly. We even introduced a sticker system recently.”
I think I see an actual vein pop in her pale forehead. Miraculously, my response makes her clamp her mouth shut, merely letting me off with another scathing glare before she turns on her heel and storms off back in the direction of… wherever it is she came from. I don’t actually know what she does here, let alone where she does it.
This whole situation is, as one might expect, Seamus’ fault. After enlightening him as to what I did with my day, he pulled a fast one on me and unceremoniously handed me the reigns for the whole Rheian research project. I am now one of the people semi-in-charge of all research pertaining to the natives, including communication and relations with them.
I don’t know how I feel about it yet. To be honest, I haven’t even had time to process it yet.
After being “promoted”, Seamus gave me access to the rest of the information we have on the natives that I hadn’t already read through. Surprisingly, there is a lot. It seems like he only gave me the bare minimum when he sent me off to go play in the forest.
Which really makes me wonder, actually. Considering how hard he pressed me for results, why did he set me up so poorly for success?
I don’t have time to ponder it, not with the mountain of information I now have to read and familiarise myself with. I feel a bit like I’m drowning, really.
Sighing and rubbing my face, I pull over the first file on the pile and crack it open.
[Rheian Natives – Appearance]
[Primary features of Rheians include tall height, long limbs, toned musculature, and signature skin that comes in an assortment of purple hues. Hair has been witnessed to be anywhere along the monochrome spectrum from black to white. Both sexes have horns, but for the females — ]
Huh. If they already had information like this, then why the hell was little ol’ me out there in the field, stumbling around like an idiot?! I feel my face flushing with heat as humiliation tickles over my skin. I hate this.
Despite the embarrassment it elicits, I return to the files and do my best to dive into them. I find out a fair bit more than what I already knew, especially about their intelligence and what little has been observed of their lifestyle. They’re elusive, and it’s hard to find any of the small villages or settlements that they live in. Actually, from what I’m reading we have yet to even glimpse the villages or settlements they live in. All we know is that they normally live and move in groups, like communities.
I can feel my eyes begin to ache, but ignore it in favour of committing all these details to memory.
If I ever see Ivah again, I want to do so equipped with all knowledge possible.
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