7. Lois
Lois
I’m not thrilled to have Az accompanying me on my diplomatic mission to the Capital, but I must admit, not only am I out of my depth, but I’m a little intimidated, too.
I don’t know the place, I don’t know the people, I don’t know the customs, nor the rules around trying to persuade some Xaviann Senator to take human slavery seriously.
So, I have to agree that, ultimately, it’s a good thing that Az is refusing to let me go by myself.
Plus, apparently he and his team normally go to the Capital for the drakball championship, anyway – he’s just going a couple of weeks sooner with me than he normally would.
And at least I’ll be doing something. At least I can try to be useful.
Don’t get me wrong, lazing around in that mansion house with Jaya has been lovely. Being given pretty much everything we want and no responsibilities – if you’d told ‘Earth me’ that was what was in store, I would be signing up in an instant.
But I hadn’t expected this… this anxiety to build and build, starting in my gut like a bacteria that seemed to multiply each passing day, that I can’t make myself useful in some way.
Because at some point, the palace will get fed up with providing for me and either drop me like a hot potato, or make the decision for me about how I can become useful.
Besides, I have never not worked.
I had to.
When we got away from him, it was just Mom and I, and-
I sigh, my shoulders sagging as I look at my full-to-bursting wardrobe, wondering what to pack for this trip.
I really miss my mom. She would have loved all these dresses. Though, I think she probably would have unleashed her impressive sewing skills on them and used the material from one skirt to make three others. Being a seamstress had been one of her many sidelines.
My personal comms orb whizzes excitedly from one side of the room to the other, already blasting out the third chorus to Dancing Queen again.
I really need to get that figured out before the trip, I think to myself, taking one look at that wardrobe stuffed with a confection of silks, tulle, and some other too-alien-to-name fabrics.
“Come on,” I tell the singing orb, getting up from my criss-cross-apple-sauce position on the floor. “Let’s go find Vel in the hopes she can expand your musical library-” the glowing ball follows along behind me, “-or maybe just delete ABBA from your memory bank.”
My comms unit halts in mid-air like it’s offended at the very prospect.
When I open the door to my rooms, I come face-to-chest with an expanse of black. Tilting my gaze upward, I’m confronted with a blank, black mask.
“Explain the unusual noises coming from these chambers,” Drex demands, jerking his chin in my direction.
Instinctively, I step back, and Mr Mystery Bodyguard here seems to take that as an invitation to enter my room, his mask looking this way and that, one hand positioned, ready at the blaster gun in the holster at his hip.
“I… what are you doing here?” The last I’d heard, Lady Zalora, Kiahn, and Zann were all going to have a special meeting about Zann impulsively hiring this guy to be Jaya’s personal security while he’s away.
And Zalora and Kiahn had not been happy about it, so I assumed this whole thing was a non-starter anyway.
“My job,” he grunts in that stupidly deep voice as he continues to scope out my room like there may be a band of assassins hiding under my bed or something. “I must secure any premises where Lady Jaya is present. What were those noises?”
I sure hope ‘Lady Jaya’ is okay with this new development of being watched by an overbearing wall of muscle.
The noises he’s referring to must be my comm playing Earth music. And, not particularly wanting to explain the cultural significance of Scandinavian Europop to this seven-foot masked intimidation unit, I decide to grab my comms orb and get out of there.
* * *
The staff member, Zek, escorts me to go find Vel.
I’d asked Jaya if she wanted to come with me, but Zann was visiting to explain why he’s such a pain in everyone’s ass – or, as he would put it, to apologize for hiring her a bodyguard without asking her opinion first. Apparently, this visit is his last stop before being whisked away to his exile.
I don’t know if it’s just friendship going on between those two, like Jaya claims, but she’s started to seem like she was genuinely going to miss him while he’s gone.
Turns out, Vel could be found in her apartments on palace grounds but not within the palace proper.
I don’t think I’ve ever been here before, so I’m curious to see her place.
And, as soon as Vel answers the door with a surprised but delighted smile, I’m greeted with an interior that is the furthest thing from Xaviann decor you could ever imagine.
“I am so happy you’re here!” Vel says, practically bouncing as she steps aside to let me in. “We are in the middle of our seven-nightly Earthophile meeting. Come in! Come in! You can bring valuable insight to our discussions.”
Normally, I’d run for the hills when hearing those words.
Jaya and Niska have been roped into a few of these meetings, and they sounded horrendous.
I may have nothing to actually ‘do’ on this planet up until recently, but I draw the line at having to explain weird shit from Earth to these Xavianns.
Getting a grilling on everything from the function of a disco mirror ball to the existence of ‘furries’ does not sound like a good time to me.
But right now, I’m too stunned to even think about running.
Because… well… I turn around in a circle, gawping at my surroundings before I’m facing Vel again, standing there beaming at me like all her Christmases have come at once.
“Vel,” I start, “am I… are we… standing in a living room from Earth?” I take another look around.
A typographical wooden plaque reads ‘bless this mess’, next to an image of a small decorative chicken sitting on a nest. Aggressively floral wallpaper covers the walls.
There’s an overstuffed armchair and couch, both smothered in cushions and a decorative throw.
Lampshades sport fringing detail, and there’s a wall-mounted display of little ceramic thimbles next to a ticking cuckoo clock.
“Is this a-” I start, still feeling weird seeing all this Earth stuff laid out like this – like I’ve walked on set of a sitcom or something.
“Is this based on a boomer home or…” my words trail off as I shake my head at the absurdity of it all.
“Yes! The ‘boom-babies’ of Earth,” she says excitedly.
“My group and I have had several discussions on this demographic of humans, and we still have so many questions! What were they doing to the offspring to make them boom, exactly? Some ritual? A genetic experiment? And is that why they were so devoted to always live, laugh, and love? Was it… penance for their explosive progeny?”
“What?” I crease my brow at her. “No… that… those were just home decor choices. It’s not that deep.”
Vel looks at me with the kind of smile that says she thinks I’m the one to have misunderstood.
“The frequency of this scripture seems to dictate otherwise, Lois. But I will not press you. I understand you cannot be an expert on all things from Earth. Jaya and Niska were not able to adequately explain a number of Earth-based topics, either. But-” I watch as she hops excitedly over to the expertly curated human living room, stopping directly in front of the coffee table.
She bends to carefully pick something up: a decorative ball nestled with its sisters inside a large glass bowl.
“Now, can you enlighten me as to the purpose of these sacred spheres? I am quite at a loss, but my best guess is that there is some spiritual significance to them for them to be presented so reverently in their own glass presentation bowl, no?” she muses, squinting at the maroon-colored decorative ball.
“Vel! They are about to announce the Star Baker!” someone calls from a different room.
And with that, Vel’s face drops, and she leaps into action, walking briskly past me but handing me the decorative ball as she goes.
After I carefully put back her Earth artifact, I follow in the direction she’d whisked herself off to.
Now, if walking into an alien’s home to find it looking exactly like a Hobby Lobby time-capsule living room wasn’t weird enough, imagine my surprise when the next room I enter looks like… a corporate office?
The floors are covered in mismatched carpet tiles in various shades of depression-gray.
The ceiling seems to mimic the patchwork of the floor with a drop ceiling grid of speckled off-white.
There are cubicles – actual fucking office cubicles – with half-built computers from Earth.
Only one of the four in total has a wheeled office chair pulled up to the desk, its upholstery the most corporate shade of blue you could imagine.
Beyond the block of cubicles all facing one another, there’s a circular table where everyone seems to be sitting on plastic chairs, watching an overhead projector playing a baking competition.
On the wall beside the projector screen is a framed poster of a kitten holding onto a branch, telling me to ‘hang in there’.
I’m trying, little kitty. But this whole thing right here is a trip!
“It will be the tallest male, this time, I am sure of it,” one of the Earthophiles confidently predicts.
Vel folds her arms in front of her. “I do not think so,” she says in all seriousness.
“He has fallen foul of the soggy bottom violation on his citrus-fruit baked goods.” She reaches over to the round table to grab some kind of snack, shoving it into her mouth and chewing as she continues, “Besides, he has not had the privilege of a handshake, and his icing skills are too inconsistent to be crowned a Star Baker. The judges, in their infinite wisdom, will see this.”