Chapter Two
I put the kettle on and dust off the teapot my granny left me after she died. I’ve never needed to use this thing. I don’t entertain, and my ex wasn’t a tea drinker. But there are now two flower-headed monsters sitting on my couch politely waiting to explain what the fuck is going on.
Out of the window by the sink, all I can see is the overgrown ivy clinging to the yellow brick wall that separates my patio from the neighbours’.
I’ve not made any sort of effort to get to know the people that live on our road.
I wouldn’t be able to tell you if the two things in my house live next door or if they came from the other side of the world.
Well, I guess technically, they are from another planet… right?
The kettle pops, and I pour the water over four tea bags I shoved into the pot. My little milk carton is nearly empty, so for ease, I set it on the Christmas tray I dug out with the teapot and my three best mugs.
Nothing in this house matches. Not even in that quirky, East London way. It’s just a series of random shite I’ve collected through the years since I began living on my own. I don’t even like half of this stuff.
“Thank you,” they both murmur in unison as I set down the tray on my battered coffee table.
I drag the second-hand reading chair by the window over and patiently wait for them to start. This is fine. It’s safe. If anything bad happens, I’ll bash the one that looks like a giant rose over the head with the pot. I can defend myself.
Right?
“Shall we start with introductions?” the rose-headed one asks.
The other one looks like a flower too, but I don’t know what kind. They don’t nod at the question or show any bodily reaction to it. There isn’t much of a face on these people, so it’s hard to really tell who they’re talking to.
“You seem to know my name already.” I pour tea and top mine up with the milk first. They don’t add any milk to theirs.
That’s suspicious.
“Well, we know of you,” Not Rose explains. “Just what the living organisms around you know and feel.”
I lean back in my chair, tucking one leg awkwardly under my bum. Not exactly a fight-or-flight-ready stance, but how can I enjoy a nice cup of tea if I’m sat so weirdly? The flower heads slightly mimic my pose, relaxing deeper into my small couch.
The skin on their arms makes an odd sound as it brushes against the velvet of the sofa. I’ve been avoiding trying to figure out why the colour of them seems slightly off, but up against the deep green cushions, they are practically glowing with pink and orange hues.
Not in the natural human way, where we are all different warm or cool tones, but in an "I've fallen into an industrial vat of punk hair dye” sort of way. And they look sort of fuzzy like velvet now too, which would explain the noise. It’s kind of like their bodies are flower stems and their heads the bulbs.
Have I been so isolated I didn’t even realise aliens invaded?
Rose clears her throat after the silence between us stretches a bit long. I’m so lost in my thoughts I flinch at the strange, raspy noise. Piping hot tea splashes across my hand, and suddenly everything becomes a kaleidoscope of petals.
Both the aliens rush to my side, moving in such perfect synchronicity that I don’t even notice when a third arrives until a cool, damp tea towel is pressed to my hand.
They mutter under their breath in a language I know isn’t human.
It’s too slithery, sliding across my skin until goosebumps erupt all over my arm.
“Are you okay?” the third alien asks. This one looks like a daisy with fluorescent yellow petals and glowing green skin. His hand is pressed carefully over the towel, a finger softly stroking my pulse point like he’s trying to soothe me.
“It’s nothing,” I say, carefully extracting my hand.
“According to memory, even if the burn doesn’t hurt now, if left untreated it can cause severe damage to the human epidermis if a cool compress is not applied.
” The black centre of Daisy’s face flickers and vibrates as he explains.
My eyes get a little lost in the motion of it, completely ignoring Not Rose setting a fresh cup of tea on the tray. “Does your skin feel tingly?”
“No,” I mumble.
There is a moment of silence before Daisy leaves out the front door.
I’m almost tempted to follow him just to know what’s going on out there.
The curtains over my front window haven’t been open in months to keep the draught out, but now I wish I’d done any amount of spring cleaning and opened them.
Not Rose pours a splash of milk into my new cuppa and passes it to me.
“We’re sorry if we’ve done something strange to alarm you; we are only as knowledgeable about human customs as our hosts are.”
My breath shudders as I blow off the steam from my mug. Hosts? Like a parasite needs a host? Or like hosting a student? I knew a few kids who did cultural exchanges when we were in school. There were plenty of international students as well when I went to uni. Maybe it’s just that.
“Would you like us to explain everything now?” Rose asks.
“Please.”
For a moment, neither of them speak, simply adjusting their clothes and seating position. Like they are the nervous ones here instead of me.
“We are Sorscelgra, the most common human reference to this we can gather is a hivemind.” Rose’s voice is soft, but it doesn’t chase away any of my fears.
“When our parent organism shed us, we began our journey to find a new solar system to call home. We are a very territorial being so we require much distance between our life forces.”
“There are others?” I ask.
“Mmm, we’ve never come across another besides our parent, but they must have come from somewhere? We live very long lives, so we can’t imagine there are too many of us.” Not Rose answers instead of Rose, but it’s with the same softness. Like they are both terrified I’m going to freak out.
Which is fair.
I’m barely holding on to my mug right now.
“We travelled a great distance before we found this place.” Rose continues, “The first place was much to put together; we couldn’t see a reason to risk their stability and—"
Rose stops herself, the petals at the top of her head curling suddenly.
“Sorry, you probably don’t want to know about our failures,” Not Rose says quietly. “What matters is that we found a place that needed us, and we found our mate.”
“The first planet we searched, Pluto, we think you call it now, had a very interesting sort of inhabitant, but they were so frequently in conflict that they were only just discovering space travel. We think they’ll make an excellent defence outpost to ward off others.
” Rose’s voice is overly cheery. She’s trying her hardest to sell this invasion of a planet I didn’t even think had life as a good thing.
“So you can—" I swallow because I can’t even believe I want to know the answer to this, "—live on many planets?”
“Well, it depends on the number of inhabitants in any given system, we suppose. What we’ve found is that the more inhabited a place, the more put together they are.” Not Rose answers my questions.
“But we could tell even with just the first few leaders we implanted, Earth needed us,” Rose continues. “So much corruption and harm being done.”
She shakes her head like a disappointed schoolteacher, while I feel like mine’s been turned into a ping-pong ball being constantly batted back and forth between the two of them.
“Are you trying to say that your invasion and mass infection of humanity is a good thing?”
Both the flower-headed aliens cock their heads in unison again.
“Yes,” they say quickly. “Because now we can create the perfect world for our Georgia.”
“What?”
“You are the reason we stopped. If you didn’t exist, we would have had to find a new system, but you’re allergic to us, so there’s no reason to keep going.” Not Rose pats their knees in finality. “We’ve found our true purpose.”
“Fuck off.” I gape at them.
“Then let us prove it to you,” Not Rose says. “Give us a chance.”