“Sure.”
I scoffed. “Not everybody is like you, Levi. I’m not tripping over myself trying to find an alien mate. I need a lab partner, not a life partner.”
He crossed his arms, exuding a pompous know-it-all energy. “Yeah, that’s what you think.”
I ignored his ridiculous mockery and finished organizing my papers. Whatever Levi thought was going to happen was a fantasy. I’d never been in love before and I wasn’t about to start now—and certainly not with a seven-foot-tall tentacle-laden alien.
After getting rid of Levi and cleaning up my space, I waited outside the door for Linn’ar’s arrival. I watched, mesmerized, as the sky blurred like a soaked watercolor palette. I had to admit, the sunsets on Eukaria were beautiful. They reminded me of thesunsets on Earth, but more vivid. Everything on this planet was so bright and bold, unapologetically magnificent.
Including its native people. My gaze dropped from the sky to the village, where Maeleons strolled along, chatting with others and simply going about their day. They were all so happy, unbothered by anything, not weighed down by the stress that harried the population of Earth.
Unlike me.
Maybe Levi was right and I should’ve learned to relax by now. But I wasn’t like him. I couldn’t forget my old life and let everything go. I held that stress inside me like a knot in my chest.
If I didn’t work, what was my purpose?
“Jaeyoung!”
Linn’ar’s face lit up when he saw me. He ran closer, his feelers floating like a peaceful cloud on a sunny day.
Feelers were an intriguing part of Maeleon biology, yet another topic I wished to explore with Linn’ar.
“Let’s begin immediately. Come inside,” I said.
Linn’ar followed me into the den, which was a sturdy construct of hard-packed dirt and robust plant roots. I never thought such a structure would hold up, let alone be comfortable to reside in, but I’d grown to enjoy my new house. It was roomier than my cramped old student dorms, at least.
“You cleaned up,” Linn’ar remarked, looking at the organized table. He sounded disappointed.
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
He clasped his claws together in an oddly charming gesture. “I offered to clean up for you earlier, but you said no. I understand, since I don’t know where you like to keep your things, but I was happy to take instructions.”
I thought he asked to be polite. I hadn’t realized hewantedto clean up.
“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding,” I said. “Next time, I’ll let you tidy all the papers you want.”
His mood visibly lifted. What an odd creature.
Linn’ar looked to me expectantly. “Now, what should I do for our experiment?”
I took my trusty clipboard and a tape measure from the desk. They were some of the few items I’d salvaged from the ship’s wreckage. They still worked, charred edges aside. Such was the beauty of analogue technology.
“You don’t have to do anything except stand still,” I explained. “I’m going to take your measurements. Could you hold out your arms, please?”
Linn’ar followed my instructions. “How exciting! I’ve never been measured before.”
As he outstretched his arms, I scrutinized them closely. They were so similar to my own, yet completely different. The same joints were there—the arm socket, the elbow, the wrist, and of course, four fingers and an opposable thumb.
Yet it was impossible to ignore his dark green flesh. It was somewhere between scales and skin, not quite reptilian or mammalian.
Pulled by curiosity, I drew my finger along the length of Linn’ar’s arm. His skin was warm and smooth to the touch. I lingered there longer than intended. I cleared my throat and pulled out the measuring tape.
“135 centimeters,” I marvelled. “More than twice the length of the average human male arm.”
“Is that right?” Linn’ar asked. “May I see yours?”
I could never refuse an opportunity to share knowledge. Standing next to Linn’ar, I copied his pose, holding out my arm parallel to his.
