“Human Corbin is going to assist me with my relationship with Ambassador Ezra,” Titan said as they went, making conversation. “But perhaps I should not speak to you on this matter, as I had forgotten that this kind of relationship is taboo on your planet.”
“Hey, dude, no sweat,” Carlos G. said earnestly. “Love is love.”
“Indeed, dude. I am pleased at your understanding and lack of sweating. I am not used to sweating—it is a very disagreeable sensation, do you agree?”
“Er, yeah, I guess. ‘No sweat’ is just an expression, though.”
“Of course. I know this.” He did not know this.
Carlos G. glanced at Titan through the tiny mirror that hung from the ceiling of his ground vehicle, but he had learned his lesson, and did not threaten Titan’s dominance with any kind of hard look or stare. “I don’t recognize your accent. Where are you from?”
“I come from Madrid, Spain, Europe, Earth.”
“Oh, no kidding? ¿Hablas español?”
Titan blinked. “They do not speak this language in Spain.”
Carlos G.’s eyebrows furrowed. “Uh… Right.”
They did not speak again.
“Titan?” Human Corbin asked, face scrunched in confusion, upon answering the door.
He was not the only one who was confused—Titan had never seen Human Corbin in such a state, with his hair sticking up every which way and his eyes crusted in the corners, as though just having awoken from unconsciousness. The tiny human was always prim and proper and exceedingly fashionable, and to see him like this was jarring. If these had not been Human Corbin’s home coordinates, Titan might have mistaken him for someone else.
Human Corbin yawned big and wide, and through it concluded, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“One increment,” Titan said, frowning at his cellular device. “I am being prompted to leave a monetary offering of gratitude for the services rendered by Carlos G. What is an adequate amount? One hundred dollars seems like a good number. I feel satisfaction from the look of it.”
“What? Who the hell is Carlos G.? Why are you at my house?”
Titan sighed. He submitted the number one hundred to appease the application, then pocketed his cellular device. “I need your assistance, Human Corbin.”
Human Corbin pulled his own cellular device out of his pocket and checked the time. He groaned and scrubbed his crusty eyes. “Couldn’t you have needed my assistance at a reasonable hour?”
“But it is nearly midday.”
“Yeah, on my day off. Whatever, you’re here now. You might as well come in.”
Human Corbin stepped to the side so that Titan could enter, and Titan, murmuring his gratitude, sidled past him into his home.
Human Corbin’s dwelling was not as large as AA.??’p’Zx and Human Jude’s, but the Darvrokian government had concluded that while modest, it was adequate for a single being. Human Corbin led Titan through its sunny foyer into a living space with shiny wooden floors and lofted ceilings. A spiral staircase off to the side led to the second floor, where Human Corbin had likely set up his personal unconsciousness quarters, and although Titan couldn’t see it, he knew that down the hall to the left was a set of stairs that led into the basement, where Human Corbin worked to help disguise the Darvrokians who had just come to Earth. It was the smallest of all the floors, with only a room each for clothing, accessories, shoes, and cosmetics, and was so small, in fact, that Human Corbin had been forced to use the sitting area in thecosmetics room as the office in which he and his Darvrokian guests worked together to come up with convincing human backstories. But Titan was not in need of revising his disguise or backstory. Without waiting for an invitation, he took a seat on Human Corbin’s sectional, his rear-end sinking into its soft cushions, causing his feet to lift from the floor. He adjusted himself the best he could, but could not help but feel rather small with the large couch all but swallowing his body.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t you,” Human Corbin muttered.
“Gratitude,” Titan replied, tucking a throw pillow behind his back in an attempt to sit up straighter.
While he settled, Human Corbin huffed and sat in the recliner across from him. He crossed one leg over the other, silk pajamas riding up at the ankle to expose the delightfully fine hair he had growing there, then sank back and asked, “How can I be of service? I’m telling you now, if you need falsified documents, you’ll have to come back tomorrow. I have a firm ‘no work on weekends’ policy.”
“No, my identification cards and papers are all adequate,” Titan assured him. “I am here for a personal concern.”
Corbin perked up. “Ooh, is it drah-mah? Please say yes. I love getting into other people’s business.”
“I do not know if you would consider it as drah-mah or not, but I do wish for you to be in my business. I require a human perspective on my issue, and you are the human best suited to give it to me.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“Shoot what?”
