Kal #3
I remembered the one-sided conversation I’d had with the pod computer.
Somehow, it had interpreted my request for Roswell as Roswell Falls.
An entirely unfamiliar location, and sparsely populated compared to typical Xaerean outposts.
Not ideal, but it was an answer. Something I could report back to Sel.
I lifted the comms deck and spoke as calmly as I could. “Sel, I think I might know exactly where I’ve landed. Over.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Spit it out. Over.”
“I’m in a place called Roswell Fa—”
HONK-HONK-HOOOOOONK!
An earsplitting sound startled me enough to jump in surprise.
I whipped around to find a large vehicle with a facade like a monster—silver teeth and shining horns—barreling straight toward me.
On instinct, I leaped to the side of the road into a patch of overgrown vegetation, crouching low as the vehicle whipped past in a surge of hot air.
I was safe, but the comms deck had slipped from my hand during my escape, flying through the air until finally landing with a sharp, definitive crack.
I cringed from my spot on the ground. Xaerean technology was made from high-quality materials, I reminded myself. The stuff that lasted. Surely, anyone with sense would have designed a comms deck that could endure a short fall.
But when I reemerged to collect the comms deck, it was broken, crushed into pieces. I picked up the pieces one by one and deposited them in my pack.
Sel was not going to be happy about this at all. Cut off from all communication, signal lost. It meant they would absolutely have to send a search and rescue crew to find me.
But also...I didn’t care.
It was my first time on Earth and very likely my last. The place I had always dreamed of visiting, and I was here in the flesh.
It quickly became clear to me that if this was the only time I would get to experience the world as humans did, I wanted to take my time.
For the first time in a long time, I got to do something on my terms.
* * *
It wasn’t long before I stumbled on another sign: “Welcome to beautiful Roswell Falls, the friendliest town in the universe.”
Seeing the sign, I couldn’t have been happier.
Of all the places I could have possibly landed on Earth, I landed right outside of the friendliest town in the universe!
I peered past the sign to a strip of road flanked by gleaming white sidewalks, wooden benches, and massive planters full of even more flowers.
Lines of buildings stood at attention, humans milling about.
I sucked in a breath. It was my first time seeing humans in their natural habitat, and I needed to blend in, be inconspicuous. I steadied myself on the signpost and waited until my breathing had calmed.
I could do this. I would do this. A lifelong dream fulfilled.
My eyes were drawn to a building with a bright yellow facade and chipped hanging sign that read Southern Charm. I sounded out the words, testing my language skills, feeling them on my tongue. I liked the way the words pulled my tongue forward, my lips pursing with the pronunciation.
There were people standing out front—quite a few of them, all smiling and engaged in conversation.
Laughter and the pleasant hum of many people speaking at once trickled from the open door.
And the most amazing smells filled the air.
Sweet and savory, so aromatic that it was dizzying.
My mouth watered as I stood there, and my stomach grumbled.
I grabbed a packet of nutritional supplement from my bag and shoved it in my mouth.
It was dry and tasteless as I chewed, and nowhere near as appetizing as the smells coming from the yellow building.
I simply had to go inside.
Steeling myself, I walked past the crowds of people. Think like a human, act like a human, repeated like a directive in my head.
Generally speaking, the higher-ups would prefer if terranauts didn’t reveal themselves as extraterrestrials to local communities.
Unfortunately, we had a fairly long history of getting caught by exactly the wrong types of people on the rare occasions we did get caught.
Spiritualists who thought we were gods, conspiracy theorists with unsettling obsessions, and military units.
I walked up the steps one at a time. As I reached the front door, a gust of wind swelled behind me, detaching a piece of paper taped to the glass.
It whipped around in the air before landing squarely against my face.
I flailed, caught off balance, and managed to catch myself.
I wrestled the paper from my face and held it to my chest. Without realizing it, I had made it inside.
“Can I help you?” A young human woman smiled at me from behind a stand. A tag on her shirt told me she was called Al, and that she was happy to serve me. She looked at the paper crumpled in my hands and said, “Oh! You’re interested in the job! I’ll introduce you to the manager.”
“Follow me.” Al, who was happy to serve me, waved for me to follow her. And although I didn’t know what in the universe she was talking about, I followed.