I grunted with frustration and stomped over to the cabinet in the back where we kept a supply of tarps. The spaceship was huge, but maybe if we covered it we wouldn’t have to tiptoe around Jim and Tim while they were here. I pulled out several of the thick plastic sheets and hauled them over to the ship, dumping my load on the floor and gesturing to T’raat.
“Here. Toss a few of these over the ship. They won’t really hide the fact that we’ve got something in here, but maybe we can come up with some story about what’s under them if the twins get curious.”
“Twins?”
“Jim and Tim. The guys outside with Dad.”
I was starting to get accustomed to T’raat’s funny range of facial expressions when he was internally translating the things I said. I bit my lip to keep from laughing at him as he worked out what a twin was.
“Interesting. A split zygote? I assume from their appearance that they share identical genetic traits.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “Although, I am not familiar enough with humangenetics. Perhaps they simply shared a womb, and the resemblance is coincidental.”
That was actually kinda cool. More than just rote regurgitation of what the nanites told him, he was taking the time to process things. “They’re identical, yeah. Same DNA.”
“DNA?”
Oh, fuck. “Yeah, it’s short for—shit, I can’t pronounce it. A big ol’ long word for genetic material.”
“Why not just say ‘genetic material,’ then?”
I sighed. “It’s the scientific term. Just about everything has another word for it that’s scientific. It’s complicated.”
“Indeed.” He tossed the last tarp over the ship, and it was covered—ish. “Will this suffice?”
“I guess.” It’s not like we had many options. Hopefully the twins didn’t get curious and come snooping in here. We might be able to bluff our way through some story about a new piece of farm equipment, but with our luck they’d beg to see it. No, best to keep them out of here if possible. “It’ll have to do.”
Awkward silence descended on us, stretching out and making the time drag. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours, and I had no clue what to say to break the tension.
T’raat eventually found an icebreaker of his own, and the bluntness of it threw me for a loop.
“Would you like to mate?”
I choked on my own spit, coughing and wheezing. Was he serious?
“Um, what?”
He reached out and stroked my cheek. “I find you quite attractive. For a human, that is. You do not have as many teats as a Xalanite woman, and your skin is so soft and delicate, but I do not fault you for that. It is a consequence of your birth. I am certain I can be gentle enough that I will not damage you.”
Just the thought of getting railed so hard as to potentially cause “damage” had me flustered, and I stammered out a response.
“I-I … You want to, erm, mate with me?”
He nodded. “Yes. Very much.”
“We, uh, hardly know each other. I mean, we haven’t kissed or anything even.”
“We must kiss first?”
“It’s preferred, yeah. Kiss, cuddle, date …”
“Date?” His face fell. “You mean courting.” Without another word, he turned and slipped behind the tarp. I heard a door close inside his ship. The sound had a finality to it, like he wasn’t ever coming back out.
“T’raat?” I called, pulling a corner of tarp aside and knocking on the hull of the ship. The hollow sound of my knuckles on the metal shell echoed in the barn. I wondered what could have made him so upset at the idea of dating me. “T’raat? Was it something I said?”
Silence.
“I’m not opposed to dating you, you know. Or kissing you. But we can’t just skip straight to mating. Dad would kill both of us.”
Still no answer. I inspected the seam of the door to the inside, searching for a handle or a touch pad or something to open it. There didn’t seem to be anything of the sort, but finally my hand brushed across a spot that looked just like everything else, and the door hissed open. I peeked inside and got the view of a lifetime.
