Three Months Later…
NORA
“Are you sure this is right?” Nora blinked, frowning at the number on Airik’s newly programmed calendar, which converted his world’s time to Earth’s.
It did a lot more—basic translation from the Veynari language to English, monitoring Mars’s airspace for nonhuman signals, and connecting to his ship, which was constantly scanning for threats.
But right now, he’d used it to show his age to her, as he’d promised all those months ago. She wiped the steam off the screen—it was warm and humid in the southern recreation garden—and checked the readout again, an odd thrill fluttering in her chest.
“I am sure,” Airik said, looking between her and the screen.
“Hmm.” She tapped her lip, her gaze shifting between Airik’s slightly worried face and the device. She had suspected he’d be younger, but not by this much. And she certainly didn’t expect that she’d…kind of like it.
Airik had just finished programming the device after two months of work.
With help from the deep-space astronomy team, who matched known astronomical events to what his ship’s knowledge base contained, they were able to translate not only Vorakon’s calendar but also those of over a dozen other worlds.
All were home to sentient beings who woke up each day and lived their lives, their existence confirming that humans had never been alone, that even if wishes and prayers might have gone unanswered, someone had been out there all along.
Oh, I do believe this development will put us in consideration for the Nobel Prize—at the very least, a nomination, one of the junior researchers had said that morning during Valhalla’s morning broadcast. That is, as soon as Earth gets our transmissions again.
The other researchers had shared a nervous laugh, looking as if they’d been held hostage on camera, no doubt with Davis smiling widely on the other end.
The junior researcher, Jackson, had shaken it off, then glanced at Airik with stars in his eyes—just like most people on base who looked at him. In the meantime, if he’s amenable, we’d love to continue our collaboration with our new friend from across the stars.
Airik, who had been forced to appear for the broadcast with the rest of the team, had stood with arms crossed, staring directly into the camera with a heavy, stoic expression.
Are we done for now? I want to be with my wife.
His mildly annoyed expression had been meant for Davis, but he’d also known he was being broadcast to the entire colony.
Nora, who’d been watching from one of the plush chairs in the medical bay, had laughed, thoroughly embarrassed by the nurses who’d whipped around to give her sly smiles.
But inwardly, she’d been bursting with joy.
“Is something wrong?” Airik held up the device so the number flickered between them.
“It says you’re only twenty-six.”
He paused. “Do you not…like that number?”
Nora scooted closer to him on the wooden bench in the garden, under the canopy of a carefully pruned and trained palm tree.
“It’s a great number,” she said. “But…I guess I wasn’t expecting you to be so much younger than me.
Are you sure it’s working right?” She tapped the device with a black-painted nail, liking how her fingers now matched with his longer ones.
Airik huffed, then shoved the device back into his bag. “Yes, I’m sure.” He took out another device—a broken glass square that held his parents’ voices, which he’d used to learn English. “Five years is not so much.”
He leaned down to speak directly into her ear, so no onlookers—there were always so many of them when he was around—could hear.
“And I think…I like that you are older—my beautiful teacher who has shown me all the greatest parts of my life and my body.” He kissed her ear.
“And demon eyes, I show you each night that I am learning well.”
He returned to working on the device, and she rested against his arm, closing her eyes.
She liked it here, her favorite spot on the base besides their tiny apartment.
Airik would bring her here after her weekly three-hour blood-filtering sessions, meant to remove whatever kudra remained.
This garden housed some of Earth’s tropical plant species and was kept toasty, perfect for after her sessions, which left her shivering and drowsy.
It was brightly lit with UV lights meant to mimic the sun, and there were even a few parrots flitting about when Zoology let them out.
Recently, the Zoology team had tried introducing insects, but from what she’d heard, the eggs weren’t hatching as expected.
Horticulture had scrambled, hurriedly dotting a few eggs in the Southern Garden in a wildly unscientific and probably irresponsible approach.
Without contact and support from Earth, everyone was hoping for the best. They needed insects if Valhalla was ever going to be self-sustaining.
And with some believing the tether to humanity might already have been cut, now was the time to try anything.
After half an hour, the crowd of colonists around Airik and Nora had grown noticeably larger, and she was further convinced there was a network of Airik spotters who constantly communicated his location.
While they were polite and mostly just curious, she hated the way they gathered to get a closer look at him.
He was hers.
Wanting to go, she brushed the hair from his eyes. He still had the device’s pieces laid out on a tray, along with the other translating device—the one that had belonged to Xallix, whose severed head was apparently now on an intergalactic revenge tour with Iver.
Nora’s breath hitched, images of both men unwantedly flashing in her mind. “Still working on that? I thought it was too broken.”
Airik quickly reassembled the second device and put it away, out of Nora’s sight.
“Torren is going to wake soon—I know it. He won’t have human words, but I want him to be able to share his thoughts in a way he couldn’t before.
” Airik stroked her throat, where only faint scars remained from all those months ago.
“I want him to hate me a little…less than he will. This device will help—once I can fix it.”
His eyes flicked up to hers, apologetic. He usually didn’t work on this device openly in front of her, but lately the twitch had returned to his finger, and tinkering with things helped.
She took his hand in hers, holding his fingers gently against her thigh. “I bet you’ll fix it soon, because is there anything you can’t do?”
He smiled at her praise, tracing the dress hem’s stitching just above her knee. “Say no to you.”
Airik packed the other device, then sighed, clearly displeased with his progress. “Ready to go?” He gave a subtle nod to the small crowd lingering around them.
Nora avoided looking, curling her fingers around Airik’s shoulder. Everyone wanted to see for themselves if the alien was as beautiful as the rumors—an angel from the heavens who had chosen one of them.
Before she could respond, a small movement caught her eye. She squinted at the green squiggly thing flailing on a leaf just past Airik’s shoulders.
He straightened, his expression hardening. “What is it?” His hand fell to his hip, gripping the handle of his sword. Constantly alert, always prepared to defend.
An onlooker gasped.
Fuck.
Needing to quell concern, Nora took his hand and laid it on her lap again.
She leaned in closer to get a better look at the little creature twirling in a frantic circle on the leaf.
“I can’t believe it.” She glanced around—no one else in the garden appeared to notice the tiny miracle in front of them, their eyes too fixed on Airik.
Following her gaze, he froze with a soft sound of surprise.
“It’s a—”
“Caterpillar,” Airik said. His voice was quiet, and she thought she detected the slightest tremble in it. The bright green creature settled back onto the peace lily’s leaf, then crept toward denser foliage.
“Impressive,” she whispered, that flutter again in her belly. Naturally, his English had improved since he now worked with humans daily, but there was no reason for him to know this specific word.
“My mother knew caterpillar,” Airik said, as if reading her thoughts. “The only word in English my father had a chance to teach her. He thought she would like how the word felt—like the creature danced on the tongue.” He turned to her, blinking away a barely perceptible sheen of blue.
“I see.” Nora took his other hand, rubbing the ring on his finger. She had split her chain in half so Airik could have a ring of his own. “Poeticism is a family trait, then.”
Someone made a dreamy sigh from a bench a little farther up the gravel path.
“Let’s go,” Nora said, resting her head on Airik’s shoulder to speak into his ear. “Your words are mine, and I don’t want to share them anymore.”
As a free day for both of them—Airik had demanded his off days from training the small guard forces to coincide with Nora’s days off as a civil office clerk—they made their rounds. A routine established over the past three months.
They went to the comm center, where she sent two messages.
One to the Abeona, which always returned an error, and another to Earth that went unanswered.
But the non-response notification wouldn’t come back until the next morning, so she smiled with the hopeful expectation that today might be different.
Neither of her messages might ever reach their intended destinations. Communications from Earth had returned in jumbled pieces, none of which acknowledged Valhalla’s requests for directives or answers, and there had been no contact from the Abeona since the attacks.