“It is compulsory to wear. That’s how emergency messages are broadcast.”
“And it was originally used on your ship, because not all humans spoke the same language.”
“Correct. The people on the ship came from many countries and spoke many languages, so we needed a device that could translate. I don’t think the scientists ever imagined it being used to translate an alien language.”
I don’t remind her that she is the alien on my world. “Since you are here, do you want to try the jerky?”
Her eyebrow lifts and her lips curve. “Sure.”
I stand, and with my back turned, rearrange my meq. I’m sure my reaction is only because we have joked about her trying my jerky, because the humans use meat as slang for their mating equipment, along with quite a few other words.
From the cupboard, I pull out a strip of jerky and break the piece in half, before offering it to Harper. “It is quite chewy.”
She watches me take a bite as if to be sure that it is safe to eat before doing the same. We sit in silence as we chew. I watch her face as she contemplates what’s in her mouth.
Harper appears to be concentrating, before eventually swallowing the first mouthful. “It’s different. Not terrible. Do you eat this often?”
“It’s a way of preserving meat as it’s not always possible to hunt…and sometimes there is nothing to hunt.”
“You remember how you said all the attention can be a lot? I got upset because all those younger women are throwing themselves at you.” She glances at the door as if she’s contemplating running away. “It was another reminder that…that most men…” She sighs. “I don’t know how to say this without making it sound ten times worse.”
“You were jealous?” I suggest.
She studies the jerky in her hand as if expecting it to bite her. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m one of the oldest, one of the first children born on the ship. Most men want someone younger.”
“It seems that most human men aren’t thinking about what they want in a mate.”
She shrugs. “That’s because human men don’t mate for life.”
“That’s their loss.”
“Why did your brothers agree to let me talk to you?”
“They know we work together and are friends and that we talk a lot.”
She lifts her gaze to look at me. “Do they think you’re interested in me?”
I take a bite of jerky and chew while I consider my answer. “I do not know what they think. Would you like me to ask?”
“No,” she says too quickly.
She watches me, and I wonder what she is thinking. “I cannot stop other women from approaching me when they approach my mated brothers.”
“That’s because they can’t tell you apart.”
I give a single nod. “Which means you will be upset again.”
“I’ll learn to deal with it.” She gives a single nod. “I’ll have to.” That realization seems to make her sad.
“You are like a banished warrior. You have been given a fate that you cannot change and that you do not like.”
“My parents decided this one-way trip was better than staying on Earth.”
“So I have heard. And perhaps that was the best choice they could make, given the options that they had. Since you cannot unmake that decision, you need to make some new ones.”
“I don’t have any left to make.” She tears off a piece of jerky with her little white teeth.
How much clearer do I need to make myself? Does she see herself as that unsuitable, that the idea that I could be interested in her doesn’t cross her mind?
