Page 47 of I Think I’m in Love with an Alien

“Got it. What happened next?”

“Everything I’ve told you before is true. I went traveling as soon as I attained maturity. I refused all social connections that might have limited my freedom. And I saw amazing things, sights and experiences I never could have had at home.”

“You don’t regret your choices?”

Seeker pauses to consider, his preternaturally beautiful eyes glittering with consideration. He has no lashes, and the pupils are more like a reptile’s with a vertical slit for a pupil. But the colors…it’s like a starburst of a galaxy in each iris. I could stare at him dreamily all day. I don’t ever want him to turn that gadget back on.

“On the whole, no. This was supposed to be my last stop, one final adventure before I went home to settle down. Oona has been worried about me for a long time. Arlan and Betau kept saying, Give him time. My clutchlings are all settled. I’m the only one who didn’t get the urge to nest at the usual time.”

“One last trip,” I repeat. “You tempted the universe.”

“What does that mean?”

I explain the trope—how in action movies, there’s always one last job or one last case. And that’s when things go tragically, catastrophically wrong.

“Hmm. I do seem to be living the evidentiary result of that probability.”

“Are you looking for help?”

“Depends on what you mean by help. I had some desperate idea that I’d sneak into that Lusk person’s launch site. And—”

“Tell me you’re joking.” I dissolve into giggles.

“I take that to mean it’s impossible?”

“Oh. You really were hoping…” I pause, hoping I haven’t come across like an asshole. “Do you have experience stealing ships?”

It seems like I’ve put him on the defensive. “I didn’t mean to suggest I’d steal a whole ship. Just some spare parts.”

“You’d probably be captured,” I say softly.

“That prospect has occurred to me as well.”

“I wish I could say that I think we could workshop the premise, but it’s an unmanned shuttle. And Owen Lusk’s fledgling space company doesn’t have a good reputation. They’ve had far more disasters than successes.”

“I am familiar with his notoriety, but…” His voice trails off and he appears dispirited.

Yet I need to be sure Seeker understands how bad that jackass is. “Lusk is a grifter. He earns money by bullshitting people and getting them to fund his pipe dreams. I swear his companies are like a shell game with funds being moved around so he looks more successful than he is.”

“That is unconscionable,” he declares.

“Yeah. He’s an asshole. Only an official space program like NASA would give you a shot at safely entering low orbit and their parts would be safe, but getting inside?” I shake my head, not feeling optimistic about his chances.

“How is Lusk’s security then?” Seeker seems to be grasping at straws.

And I hate saying, “He’s a paranoid freak, security everywhere. It would take a special team to get you inside on launch day, and I don’t know that you’d be able to find anything useful once you got there.”

“Then there is truly nothing I can do. The situation is, indeed, beyond my control.”

“I’m sorry.” I feel like I’ve crushed his secret dream, but I can’t let him get hurt because he doesn’t have all the facts.

“It’s not your fault. I’ll continue to make the best of things.”

For a moment, I consider his situation. “You’ve managed to source food and shelter, but it can’t be easy. You’re new here.”

I don’t mean to be dismissive, but it’s true. He’s been on this planet for less than a year. Holy shit, I am talking with an alien. We’re on my bed. I want to run around screaming and kick my feet in the air, but that would freak him out. He’s trusted me. I can’t react by showing how ridiculously thrilled and immature I am.

Seeker acknowledges this with a flutter of his dorsal spines. How fascinating. Does that take the place of hand gestures?