“Well … Maybe. Whatever. You’re here now, and that’s great. I’m so excited. My Aunt Ann is head of the AARO—they monitor and police alien traffic here on Earth, at least in this country—but I’ve never met an alien before. You’re my first.”
His brows rose, and he sat back on his heels next to the box of strange metal tools he’d pulled from his ship. “She did not introduce you to any other Xalanites? That is … unfortunate.” A strange look of determination crossed his face, and he stood tall …verytall. “I am honored to be your introduction to Xalanite culture. If you should have any questions about my people, do not hesitate to inquire.”
I had questions all right, but since they were mostly about his anatomy, I kept my mouth shut on that matter. I got the impression if I asked about his rumored bonus equipment, he wouldn’t hold back on showing me. With my luck, Dad would stroll into the barn at that very moment, though, and not only would I be grounded, T’raat would be on the wrong end of a shotgun. "Uh, I’ll keep that in mind,” I said as I watched him bend over to pick up some of his tools.
Regardless of what he was packing in the front, his back end looked plenty fine from here.
I caught myself fanning my face with my hand as my temperature rose. T’raat caught me, too, and the look of concern he gave was too cute.
“You are flushed, Leigh.” He turned back to his ship and checked something on the panel he was working with. “There should not be any more exhaust leaking. Perhaps I have missed something.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. I just … erm, I’m fine. Please, don’t worry.”
He brushed his scaled fingertips over my cheek. Lightning bolts of pleasure shot through me at the touch, and I bit my lip to keep my horny ass from moaning. “You are warm,” he said. “Warmer than the weather should allow.”
“So …” I moved away from his electrifying touch and pretended to inspect the panel. Tiny markings in neat vertical lines covered the screen. The text was squarish yet rounded at the same time, with small dots and dashes on some of the symbols. It was oddly beautiful. Careful not to touch anything on the screen, I pointed to some lettering. “This is what Xalanite looks like? The language, I mean.”
“Yes. I can give you nanites, if you wish, so you may read it.”
While that would be cool, I declined his offer. Dad wouldn’t even let me get my ears pierced; I doubted having tiny machines injected into my brain stem would go over well.
“Tell you what,” I said, changing the subject slightly. “Why don’t you teach me?”
T’raat blinked a few times. “Teach you?”
“Sure. For instance, if I point to a word, you can tell me how to say it in Xalanite and in English. If it’s an object, tell me what it does. If it’s a concept or verb or something, explain that.” I gave him a questioning look. “Don’t you guys ever teach other than by shoving nanites in someone’s head?”
“That seems rather … inefficient.”
Okay, he had a point. “Well, you know how to learn on your own. I saw you watching us eat this morning before you picked up your fork, so it’s not like your species isn’t capable of learning outside of a nanite dump. Besides, sometimes learning for the sake of education is fun. I like watching true crime shows and medical programs because they’re fascinating. You can get a ton of new information that way, and if I recall—for us humans, atleast—the learning process helps build new neural pathways and stuff. Keeps the brain elastic.”
“Your brains … stretch?”
“Metaphorically speaking, sure.”
He frowned. “Our nanites do not translate metaphor well. Perhaps I am too reliant on them.” His shoulders slumped as he sighed. “I do not have a method of deactivating them. I would need to go to this intake center your father spoke of and undergo quarantine. I am certain the Xalanite physicians stationed there would have the tools necessary for nanite nullification. I get the impression, however, that if I go there, it will be the last I see of you.”
It was adorable how sad he seemed at the thought of leaving the farm for good. I wanted to reassure him that going to the intake center wouldn’t necessarily be “goodbye forever,” but he probably was right. For most Xalanites, a trip there was one-way. Aunt Ann may have been the director of the AARO, but she had people she answered to, and so far, only a scant few Xalanites had earned travel and housing privileges outside of the center in upstate New York.
I put a hand on T’raat’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m not saying don’t use the nanites you have. I’m just saying maybe try to teach yourself stuff without them from time to time, and when you’re comfortable with that method, you can start teaching me.”
A bright smile crossed his face, and he nodded. “Yes. I would very much like to teach you. And perhaps you can teach me how to teach.”
“You’d better not be teaching her about the birds and the bees.” Dad’s gruff voice cut into our quiet time together, and I turned to see him standing at the door to the barn with a pitchfork in hand. It would have been comical if I didn’t believe with all my heart he’d absolutely use it on T’raat if he thought anything fishy was up.
T’raat seemed unphased by the weapon. He cocked his head, his eyes jerking back and forth like he was watching words on a scrolling screen. Finally, his brows drew together, and he answered.
“I am not familiar with Earth fauna. I could not teach her about these creatures. Besides, she likely knows of them already. My nanites tell me there are many varieties of both native to this area.”
Dad grumbled and stomped into the barn. He shoved the handle of the pitchfork at T’raat and held it out for him. “Here. If you need to move the hay bales around to get comfortable, this tool makes it easier.”
It was the closest to true hospitality that Dad was gonna get. I didn’t want to ruin it by mentioning that we’d already gotten T’raat’s bedding set up.
T’raat did not seem to get that little subtlety. He grinned and pushed the pitchfork away. “We have fashioned the hay bales into a sufficient bed. Leigh was quite helpful.”
A dark expression flashed across Dad’s face at the mention of me helping T’raat with his bed. I’m sure that’s practically the last thing he wanted to hear. Scrambling for a way to smooth things over, I piped up.
“T’raat and I were talking about him teaching me Xalanite. I think it’d be cool to learn a new language.”
