Aliens Decrypted My Heart (Awakened Womb #4)

Assistant 23

Everything in the entire world was scary.

No, scratch that—everything in the universe was scary.

As I watched the village Maeleons set the banquet table full of food, familiar anxiety brewed in my stomach. It was Dai’zee’s first birthday, and everyone was gathered to celebrate. The whole village was invited, including me.

It should’ve been a fun event, but fun was never something I was good at.

I couldn’t recall a time when I didn’t feel anxious. I was born that way, and I’d die that way, too. My whole life has been just one big, warped ball of nerves.

Truthfully, I envied people without anxiety. Their lives seemed so much more… normal. They didn’t jump at shadows, balk at uncertainties, or work themselves into a tizzy over what-ifs.

But I did. And I didn’t know how to stop.

So when Paz invited me to the party, I didn’t know how to turn him down. Paz was one of those people. A relaxed, non-worrier. He could take a fucking meteor apocalypse in stride. He’d grinned and assured me I was welcome, but I’d been too nervous to think of a decent excuse to avoid attending.

Then I spent the two hours before the party fussing over everything that could go wrong. Half that time was fantasizing the various ways I’d screw something up. Dropping a slice of cake, or accidentally bumping my table neighbor, or making Dai’zee cry on her special day…

Hell, maybe I’d fail spectacularly and commit all three.

But if I stayed in my hut, I knew Paz would come and drag me to the party. Thinking of that embarrassing scenario was enough of a kick in the ass to just suck it up and go.

The table bustled with Maeleons and the three other humans in the village: Levi, Jaeyoung, and Paz. Despite being the same species as the men, I hadn’t grown any closer to any of them in the months I’d lived in the village. They were busy with their alien mates and children.

It was better that way. Talking to unfamiliar people was anxiety inducing.

The Maeleons were another story. The alien species was kind, warm, and accepting—but that didn’t help the visceral fear that gripped me anytime I was near one.

They were massive, with the smallest adult easily clearing six feet.

Bulging muscles rippled beneath their scaly bodies, intimidating horns jutted out from their heads, and sharp fangs filled their mouths, which were big enough to crunch a human’s head whole.

And if any of that wasn’t terrifying enough, their semen could alter your fucking DNA.

Wouldn’t anyone be afraid of that?

But I knew that wasn’t fair of me. Sure, the giant, animalistic aliens looked fearsome, but I didn’t want to be scared of them. I wanted to be like Levi, Jaeyoung, and Paz, who were effortlessly comfortable among the villagers. I wanted to be normal.

Unfortunately, I was doomed to be an anxious mess. Yay me.

The party started with singing Happy Birthday to Dai’zee. The humans led the Maeleons through the song, which was honestly kind of sweet. Everybody joined in. Except for me. I wasn’t much of a singer. If I tried, I’d probably sound like a dying goose.

After the song and the clapping, the bustling feast commenced.

I did what I always did. I sat on the bench, hunched quietly as I waited for the initial rush to end.

When it was over, and I was certain nobody was watching me, I picked at the leftovers.

Thanks to the ever-present anxiety crushing my guts, I had a small appetite. A few fruits were enough to satisfy me.

I grabbed whatever looked edible and placed them on my lap for later.

I never ate at the table. Not once. My hazmat suit stayed on whenever I was in public, and it was impossible to eat through the faceplate.

Instead, I held onto my food and carried it back to my hut to eat privately like a neurotic squirrel.

That pretty much summed me up. An anxious little rodent. At least squirrels were good at climbing trees and finding food in the wild. All my niche skills were totally useless on the beautiful planet of Eukaria.

And squirrels were pretty cute, too. I couldn’t say the same about myself. I wasn’t the most attractive guy on New Earth to begin with, but after spending eight years swaddled in my ancient hazmat suit, I had certainly become the most pathetic-looking man in the galaxy…

I scrunched my shoulders, trying to make myself smaller.

Flanking me on the bench were two big Maeleons.

They were considerate and gave me space, but that didn’t stop me from feeling like I was taking up too much of it.

I didn’t contribute much of anything to the village.

All I did was eat their shared food and breathe their fresh air.

All things considered, I was pretty useless.

I sighed, which briefly fogged up the inside of my faceplate before dissipating.

Ignoring the conversations around me, I stared down at the oblong fruits in my lap.

How much longer would this party last? When could I retreat to my hut without seeming rude?

If I got up and sneaked away right now, would everybody stare at me?

The thought nearly made me sick. I despised being the center of attention.

It’s better if I stay put. Wait it out like I always do…

If I were good at anything, it was waiting in solitude. After Unit 44 abandoned me on an alien planet, I spent eight years alone. I figured I was a goner. Left for dead. But I survived.

Maybe some unknowable cosmic entity wanted me alive. Maybe it was dumb fucking luck. Either way, I was here now, at a half-human, half-alien little girl’s first birthday party.

“Excuse me.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sudden voice beside me. It was a huge purple Maeleon with a smooth voice.

My heart hammered. Was he talking to me, or the Maeleon behind me? It must’ve been the latter. Nobody ever talked to me. I ignored him and kept staring at the fruit.

A moment later, the purple Maeleon chuckled. “Yes, you. I’m speaking to you.”

My stomach lurched. From the corner of my eye, I noticed that the Maeleon behind me had turned away, engaged in a different conversation.

The purple one was talking to me.

My throat closed up, and my pulse skyrocketed. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to talk to anybody. But it was rude to ignore him, and being rude attracted unwanted attention.

Although I couldn’t look at him, I mustered the courage to reply. “Y-yes?”

He chuckled again. Warm and smooth. “I have sat next to you during feasts many times now. Yet I have never seen you eat anything. Why is that?”

My organs turned cold.

Shit. Not only was he talking to me, but he was also asking me questions about the last thing I wanted to discuss: myself.

“I don’t know,” I blurted in a panic. Just to say something. Hoping he’d take the hint and stop.

Sadly, I had no such luck.

“Sure, you do,” the purple Maeleon countered. “Who knows better than you?”

My heartbeat tripped over itself. I had to shut this down fast. If I kept replying, he’d keep asking, and then we’d be having a conversation, and I’d really be in trouble.

“My name is Farr’vye, by the way,” he interjected.

Who asked? I didn’t.

“And your name is Assistant 23, yes?”

My eye twitched with irritation. That obviously wasn’t my real name. But then again, how was a Maeleon supposed to know that? All human names probably sounded strange to them.

“No, actually,” I replied. “That’s my designation. Not my name.”

Farr’vye sat up straighter, his gaze widening with intrigue. I noticed for the first time that his eyes were bright orange, like a California poppy. Not that an alien’s eye color meant anything to me.

Then his earlier comment belatedly sank in. He’d noticed me sitting next to him before? For how long? Months? Why had he chosen this specific moment to strike up a conversation with me—one in which I didn’t even want to participate?

He’s weird. I don’t want to talk to him, I decided.

Pretending to be interested in something else, I turned my face to the other side of the table where Levi and his alien mate Zat’tor were happily playing with their daughter.

A ribbon of discomfort threaded between my ribs. Dai’zee was a beautiful child, and I was happy for their family. But every time I thought about a cisgender human man giving birth… it terrified me to the core.

That must’ve been part of the reason Maeleons unnerved me; they had the ability to change my body. Paz insisted it was consensual, and I believed him, but it didn’t curb my fear.

I didn’t like the idea of other people influencing me. Changing me. It had already happened once already with catastrophic results, and I never wanted to experience that again.

In spite of the warm weather, a chill ran down my body. I rubbed my arms.

“Cold?” Farr’vye asked.

Great. He was still talking to me.

“No,” I said.

“Itchy, then?” he teased.

“No.”

Farr’vye gasped. “An insectoid grub has infiltrated your skin!”

The mental image of bugs in my suit struck a bolt of visceral fear into my heart. I yelped, leaping up from the bench and patting my chest hard. It took an embarrassingly long time before I realized Farr’vye was joking.

I sat back down, praying nobody noticed. Thankfully, the villagers were focused on Dai’zee.

My face flushed hot with shame and anger. “That’s not funny,” I muttered to Farr’vye.

He tilted his head. “No?”

“No!”

“My apologies.” He smiled. Well, it was the closest thing to a smile that the fang-toothed reptilian alien could manage. It reminded me of a crocodile airing out its fangs, ready to strike the nearest prey.

I shuffled uncomfortably in my seat. I wouldn’t reply “it’s fine” because it wasn’t. He’d scared the crap out of me. If there were bugs in my suit, I’d have to strip in front of everybody—and frankly, I’d rather be taken out by the meteor apocalypse.

“Please don’t do it again,” I said.

“Tease you? Or tease you about insectoids?”

“Don’t tease me at all!”

I was shocked when my voice came out louder than intended. I rarely raised my voice. Speaking at a normal volume was already too much effort, let alone shouting. But this purple Maeleon wrung it out of me with his annoying behavior.

Farr’vye wasn’t fazed by my outburst. He leaned his elbow on the table, propping up his chin. The gesture was oddly humanlike. I wondered if he’d learned it from the other men in the village since they spent more time among the locals.

Damn it, what do I care where he learned it from? I don’t want to chat with this alien anymore!

I cast a nervous glance across the table again. Were people leaving yet? I had to escape, but I couldn’t be the first one to leave.

“All right. No teasing,” Farr’vye stated. “But you still have not answered my question.”

Frustration pulsed through my head. Why had I been trapped in this conversation? Why me?

Swallowing my nerves, I turned to look Farr’vye in the eyes. That sunny orange gaze watched me in return, full of meddlesome curiosity.

Then something weird happened.

My faceplate was tinted, so he couldn’t have actually been able to see my eyes. Yet he somehow managed to look directly into them.

A shiver coursed down my back.

Feeling vulnerable, I looked away.

I have to get away from this alien. He’s too chatty and pushy. What a nightmare.

Nobody else had risen from the table yet. It was too early to leave the party. But I forced myself to break the social custom if it meant escaping Farr’vye.

I was a freak, anyway. Nobody would care if I left. They’d probably be glad I’d stopped bringing down the vibes.

Picking up my fruits and clutching them tightly to my chest, I stood up and hopped over the bench. Nobody batted an eye.

Except Farr’vye.

“Where are you going?” he asked, arching his neck back in a reptilian motion. It exposed the smooth scales of his throat, and they gleamed in the sun.

“Home,” I barked.

His reply was excited. “I’ll come with you.”

Cold anxiety closed in around me like a block of ice.

“No,” I said sharply. “No, thank you.”

In my hurry to escape, I stumbled and dropped my fruits.

I made the snap decision to abandon them. I couldn’t spare the precious few seconds to bend over and pick them up. If I did, Farr’vye might catch up to me.

Crap. And I was hungry, too…

But avoiding this awkward social interaction was more important than eating. I broke into a stiff jog back to my hut and slammed the door.

Not two minutes later, there was a chipper knock announcing Farr’vye’s presence.