Kal
The ground was cold and soft beneath me, but the sun peeking through the canopy of trees warmed the skin of my suit. Birdsong welcomed me to a new day, and I still couldn’t believe I was actually here, on Earth. That I had made it.
You made it? More like you made a huge mistake.
I squeezed my eyes shut and wrinkled my nose. I shouldn’t have let myself think like that, no matter how naturally it came to me. Mistake or not, I was on Earth, and I wanted to make the most of it. I didn’t know how much time I would get before having to go home.
As I looked around, I thought again of how beautiful it was. I was back where I’d landed, all evidence of the spacecraft gone, fully absorbed by the organic matter of the forest. The only sign of my impact was a shallow crater where I’d made camp, nestled between a smattering of trees.
I wondered briefly why this couldn’t be the location of a Xaerean station, with its sleepy town and miles of undisturbed scenery. But I knew it was only a dream, and an unrealistic one at that.
Rule number two for terranauts: Assimilate quickly, stay vigilant at all times.
Lola told me that the restaurant was closed today, so I wouldn’t need to go in. Instead, I would explore this new place like a true terranaut. Learn what I could as I painted a picture of Roswell Falls as my new home.
My heart pulled as I thought of Lola again—the woman with the blue eyes and bright pink hair. I scanned the trees, the nearby meadow where I saw my first flowers, the clear sky. Stunning, I thought. But not quite as stunning as her.
I grabbed my pack and set out toward town, determined to get lost for the day.
* * *
By the time the sun went down, I was bone-tired and satisfied.
I made my way back to the same shallow crater to spend the night again.
But after I had pulled the portable shelter from my pack and crawled inside, it didn’t feel right.
The world around me was wide and open, brilliant.
The shelter was dark and reminded me of my home planet and all the baggage that came along with that association.
I climbed out of my shelter in the waning light of the day, dismantled it, and threw it into my pack.
Just a few minutes’ walk away, I laid out my thin sleeping sack—meant for survival for terranauts stuck in a strange land—and settled heavily atop it.
My back to the ground, my arms rested behind my head, I watched as the sky drifted from blue to pink and orange, back to blue, and finally to an inky black peppered with pinpoints of light.
Look at where I came from, I thought as my eyelids grew heavy. And look at where I am now.
I fell asleep in the open meadow, surrounded by green grass and a prism of flowers, beneath a blanket of stars.
* * *
The next morning, I woke up to the light of the sun. The first thing I thought of was seeing Lola again. It was early, and I was only a short walk from the restaurant, but I would take my time getting there. There was so much to take in.
By the time I arrived at Southern Charm, the windows were dark, but the door was unlocked when I pulled the handle.
Just like Lola said it would be. There was a brief moment as I’d drifted off to sleep last night where I had considered not coming in at all.
Self-doubt had crept in, slowly and then all at once, as my mind kept churning over all the reasons I shouldn’t go back.
I didn’t know what I was doing. It increased my chances of getting caught.
I was better off hiding in the woods, surviving on my stash of nutritional supplements and emergency gear, away from humans.
Because it was me, and I was a screwup, and it wasn’t a matter of if, but rather when I got into trouble.
Well, even more trouble.
But then…Lola. Selfishly, I wanted to see her again.
I wanted to return to that place full of laughter and human chatter, delicious aromas, and a human woman with an aura that pulled me in and held me.
I didn’t have the words for it at the time, but looking back, I simply wanted to be in Lola’s orbit. It just felt right.
And so, I had woken up with the sunlight, the dew quickly evaporating in the warm morning air, brushed myself free of grass and dirt, and got ready for the day.
I looked in my pack and counted the number of nutritional supplements I had on hand.
A decent stash, but it couldn’t hurt to ration since I had no clue how long I would need to survive on those alone.
I had split one in half and gnawed on the tasteless meal as the Earth’s sun moved higher in the sky before walking back into Roswell Falls.
My hu-suit, while still comfortable, was beginning to feel restrictive against my real skin, and I had pinched and pulled at spots as I walked.
From what I understood, terranauts could wear these suits indefinitely while on mission, but I was already growing tired of it.
I longed to take it off for a few hours at least. But the risk was obvious, and I was already in enough trouble.
Imagine what would happen if I was seen outside of my suit after already accidentally launching myself to Earth.
No, I would stay in the suit, sufficiently hidden from the world. Things seemed to work out best when I was hidden away, after all.
I padded through the silent dining room, back to the kitchen where the lights were on, and I could hear a cacophony of noise. Before pushing through the door, I peeked through the window to see inside. And there she was—dazzling Lola—flitting weightlessly across the kitchen.
Lola slapped her hands together, sending a cloud of white dust into the air before slipping on a pair of mitts and pulling a tray from the oven. I couldn’t tear my eyes from her; she was positively effervescent.
I was so caught up in watching Lola in her element, I didn’t realize she might be able to see me, too. When she turned toward the counter, her gaze skated over the kitchen door, blue eyes landing on mine.
Lola shrieked, her arms flailing as she threw her hands up in surprise. The tray she was carrying clattered to the floor. A flurry of golden-brown discs flew through the air before falling all around her, landing in a mess of crumbs and baked goods and one very terrified human woman.
I shrank back from the door momentarily. Look what you did—another Kal-made disaster. That was my immediate reaction. Then: Help her.
A lifetime of leaving chaos in my wake had taught me that I didn’t like leaving chaos, but it was my unfortunate lot in life.
Back on Xaerea, others would shake their heads at me in disappointment or anger, then send me away so I couldn’t cause more problems. But no one else was coming to clean up my mess this time. It was just me and Lola, and a choice.
I pushed through the door. “It’s just me,” I said, holding my hands up, palms out.
Lola’s shoulders lowered when she saw me, and for a moment, I experienced what it was like for someone to be not just relieved to see me, but genuinely happy.
My heart thump-thumped in response to her shy, embarrassed smile.
A hand to her chest, she opened her mouth to speak when my foot landed on something soft and squishy.
I was sent off-balance, tumbling backward then forward, finally catching myself with hands on Lola’s shoulders.
My weight, still unsteady, was too much for her.
Lola collapsed awkwardly to the ground with my body folded over hers, pinning her to the floor.
Lola exhaled a puff of breath, followed by a small oof.
I was embarrassed at how quickly I could take a situation from bad to worse, how naturally making mistakes came to me.
Sure, I had the excuse of being in a hu-suit that didn’t quite move like my real body.
But that didn’t take away from the immediacy of my shame.
Whether on Xaerea or on Earth, it was the same. Always the same.
I wasn’t sure what hurt the most—the blow to my pride or the blow to my body. But when Lola put a hand to her head, face scrunched in discomfort, I found my answer. I had hurt Lola. That was the worst of all.
Clumsiness, carelessness. Kal, the screwup, impossibly hopeless.
My knees tucked up to my chest as I rolled into an upright sitting position.
Slowly, Lola did the same. In the time it took for her to brush herself off and check for injuries, I’d braced myself for the worst. A scolding at the very least, surely, but I wouldn’t have flinched if she threw me out forever.
Funny how that thought pinched, sending cool liquid through my veins. I think I could have lived my entire life on Xaerea never knowing someone like Lola existed, and I would have been fine. But now that I’d met her, all I wanted was to learn more, earn more of her, this dazzlingly bright human.
My thoughts floundered between wishing I could fold myself into nothing, disappearing completely, and feeling the pull to make things right.
I wanted to apologize to her, prove that this was a fluke and that I could be a well-adjusted, very composed person, actually.
There was also a very likely chance she would laugh in my face, and I winced from the pain of it prematurely.
“Are you okay?” Lola watched me with concern etched across her face.
That was…not what I’d expected. No malice in her voice, nor anger. I could feel myself unwind, just a little.
“You took a pretty hard fall,” she continued, voice soft.
Once again, my muscles lost some of their tension. Lola wasn’t reacting anything like what I’d grown accustomed to. She wasn’t being angry; she was being kind.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t understand, because hadn’t I ruined everything?
My voice was small and tense. “I’m fine,” I said. “I—I’m sorry about…” I gestured to the mess around us, determined not to meet her eyes.
Lola snorted and waved a hand dismissively. “It’s no big deal. Seriously. I’ve seen way worse messes in kitchens.”
My eyes snapped to hers, still confused. “You’re not mad?”