The Nev’Rhaan have some similarities with the Vendari: gray skin, unnerving pitch-black eyes, the muscular bodies of elite soldiers, and dark hair—though all the Nev wear their hair short. Rad seems to be the leader of this pack, or the loudest at least. The more I watch them the more I find that he gives me something of an uncomfortable feeling.

  He stands out as being the least mature of anyone I have met in Beacon thus far, and the fact that he is in a soldier‘s uniform and wielding a gun, makes him seem doubly dangerous. There’s nothing worse than an idiot with an inflated sense of power and a gun. And while the other Nev laugh at his jokes, their demeanor is markedly different.

  “Soup’s on,” Kate says suddenly, bringing me from my thoughts, and I see Rennek pulling the meat from the grill.

  “Oh, now that’s just cruel!” April laughs as we all get up to grab plates.

  The humans get up first. The guys always prefer that we begin eating before they do for some weird reason, alien manners or something. Though I notice Kate always fills a plate for Rennek as she fills one for herself. I’m famished, as always here in Beacon. The food is just too damn lean and healthy while the days are always so strenuous, so I pile my servings high and notice Kate isn’t the only one loading up two plates.

  Whoa… Reagan must be feeling bold… she’s about to out her secret alien boyfriend to everyone. Shamelessly, I hurry back to my seat to watch how this all plays out, squeezing in next to Kye.

  “I think that went well, maybe you are the only human that is difficult to get along with—” he starts.

  “Shhhh!” I quiet him, and he follows my gaze.

  I feel him stiffen next to me and his instinctual response to the situation gives me a sense of foreboding. As rough around the edges as Reagan is, there’s a sense of innocence about her. My guess is that she’s the youngest of the group, though we are all fairly close in age. But she has this sweetness hidden just beneath the surface that she hides with a crude mouth and prickly sense of humor. Sure enough, poor thing walks right up to Rad.

  “Hey, I made you a plate while I was up there,” she tells him with feigned casualness, balancing both meals and her ego uneasily in the space between them.

  Rad turns from his group to face Reagan, and though there is a smile on his face it’s clear that it is fake. What is unclear is whatever emotion he hides just beneath it. He looks over his shoulder to his friends and I can almost see him contemplating a way to embarrass Reagan. His friends give him no encouragement, however, and so he takes the plate without conflict.

  “Thanks! I’m starved!” he says and turns his back to her. She hesitates only a moment before quickly making her way back to our table, keeping her eyes down. The whole courtyard is silent, but a glance at the Vendari men reveals the tightly wound tension of this interaction.

  “I am determined to find more things I have in common with your Superman,” Kye says, breaking the silence. “Does your planet have many superheroes?”

  Everyone has something to say to that, and I can’t help but smile at him. What a diplomat… I could kiss him for easing us out of that one. Figuratively, that is. There will be no more kissing going on between Kye and me. Friendship only, and it seems like it’s off to a good start.

  Reagan pokes at her food but doesn’t eat much, and I can see everyone’s eyes shoot sympathetically to her every so often. The evening goes on and the tension slowly eases. Some people go up for seconds, and I swear I hear Rad suggest that Reagan go fill his plate again, but a second later I hear the crashing of plates to the ground. Everyone looks up to see Kellen and Rad inches from one another having a heated if not quiet conversation. Reagan looks mortified. But a second later Rad is storming out of the courtyard and the Nev slowly pick up after themselves and follow.

  “What was that about?” Clark asks… Apparently, she was a little too wrapped up in talking about Superman to notice the nuances of social interactions this evening.

  “You know they’re brothers,” Kate says, leaning forward to gossip.

  “What? No kidding?” April responds.

  “Wait, what? Who are brothers?” Clark asks, needing to be brought up to speed.

  “Kellen and Rad. Half-brothers at least,” Kate tells her. “Weird, huh? Such different personalities. I mean, Kellen’s so quiet and humble, and he works so hard around here to help out… while Rad…”

  “Rad is a waste of space,” Kye finishes.

  “Rad works hard around here, too, and don’t forget, he didn’t sign up for this. It was Madreed who posted him here. He specializes in… different things. He wasn’t meant to be a farmer,” Reagan says spitefully.

  “What does everyone have against farmers?” I wonder aloud.

  The conversation stalls, and Kye rises to fill his water again. I watch him chug two cups before coming back to sit with his third. I remember he seemed more affected by the heat on Ipoch as well, but the humidity here is so much worse. I wonder if it’s even healthy for him to be here?

  “So, what’s up with your face?” Reagan asks Kye, bitterness still lacing her voice. At first I think she’s talking about his darkening complexion, but then I realize she’s referring to his more alien features.

  His brows rise slightly at the question. “One could ask the same of humans,” he says with a smile. “What are you curious about?” he asks, and I appreciate his accommodating attitude. I mean, her question is rude and undoubtedly was meant to be.

  She motions to the sides of his nose. “What are those? Gills?”

  “Gills?” He scoffs a little. “No, they pick up certain scents more precisely.”

  “Then what’s your nose for?” she asks, confused. I squirm a little at her forwardness. I have to admit, I’ve wondered about it, too, so I curiously await the answer.

  “I suspect our noses function similarly, but these…” He motions toward the slits that run from the bridge of his nose onto his cheeks. “These are for picking up specific scents.”

  “So you do have a superpower? The power to smell specific things? Lucky you,” Reagan mocks.

  “Islerians produce potent mating pheromones.” He indicates the flexible spines along his jaw and forearms. “These slits are sensory receptors, attuned to things like the pheromone production of prospective mates, attraction responses, ovulation cycles in females…” he answers.

  “Does it only work with Islerians, or can you smell it on other species?” Reagan asks, suddenly serious, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Can Kye smell me? Did he know when I was turned on? Or can he tell when I get an adrenaline rush whenever I see him?

  “I am aware of certain things,” he answers vaguely, and suddenly everyone is shifting in their seats. “It is late,” he says, unexpectedly standing.

  “Oh, uh… I’ll walk you out,” I say, getting up to join him. Even though this evening was a bit of a downer, it was a good first step towards building a friendship with Kye and having him really be a member of this community. I follow Kye, but instead of walking towards the gates he heads in the direction of the bathing room.

  “You going for a swim?”

  “I do each night. To cool myself,” he tells me. I wonder again about his ability to live comfortably in this climate.

  “Do I uh… owe you for tonight’s integrating?” I ask.

  “No, we will count our time together this afternoon. We are even for today,” he tells me. “Unless you would like to join me for a swim?”

  “No, I’ll pass. I don’t think it’d be much fun for you. I actually don’t know how to swim,” I confess.

  “Is that a human joke?” he asks confused.

  “No, I just never learned how. I didn’t know anyone with a pool when I was a kid, and my family… well my dad, really, we never went to the beach or anything like that.”

  “I thought you were fond of the beach?”

  “I am, but that was an appreciation I developed as an adult, and it was more about listening to the water and reading a book on the warm sand than it was about swimming, you know? Plus, the college I taught at was really close to the beach, so hanging out there was kind of the thing to do.”

  “Truly, you don’t know how to swim?” he asks, astonished. I shrug in response.

  “I have to say, that is strange to hear. All Islerians are excellent swimmers, our world being so wet. Our young are even birthed in water.” He thinks for a moment. “I have another deal for you. You offered to teach me the Ibanna? I will teach you how to swim in return.”

  I can’t fight the roll of my eyes. “I don’t know, Kye. Literally every guy I’ve ever dated has sworn he was going to teach me how to swim. It was cute at first, but I’m pretty sure it’s just never going to happen for me. It’s okay, though. I can still lead a full life,” I assure him jokingly.

  “None of those men were Islerian,” he counters.

  “No, I suppose not.” Why do I love it when this guy challenges me?

  “Are we dating?” he asks.

  “Huh?” I reply, stunned. “No, Kye, I said I was willing to be friends. Just friends.”

  “You told me about dating once. You said it was a phase of learning about one another.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I laugh, a little embarrassed. I guess I misunderstood him. “Yeah, I did say something like that, huh? Let’s just stick to the friendship jargon though, okay?”

  He nods. “Until next time then,” he says, and it’s followed by this awkward moment where it does feel like we are on a date. A first date, and it’s unclear if we should kiss or not.

  “Okay, bye!” I say, hopping back from him, my own mixed emotions getting the better of me… and the fear now lodged in the back of my mind that he can smell the fact that I was just thinking about kissing. Like olfactory mind reading… but it can’t work like that, can it?

  Chapter 46

  Kye

  When I wake in the morning my flesh has fully returned to its normal hue. My body has cooled, but it won’t take much time outside for the heat to sink into me once more.

  It is early still, it seems I fell asleep working on my handheld again. Life here on Elysia has proven to be transformative. My days are spent performing arduous labor and my nights spent engrossed in my new diplomatic endeavors. The accord I have been drafting is progressing in a way that excites me more than any work I had ever done as an Ambassador. I send drafts of it to Loret and Anu each day and their contributions help shape the document. I have even reached out to Serif for his input, which has proved to be invaluable as well.

  Interestingly enough, I enjoy my days as much as my nights. The work is strenuous, but it is work towards a tangible goal. I can see what we are creating here—I can watch it grow and develop before my eyes. Even more salient is being a member of a community, not trying to command it, but just being a part of it. Each day the king gathers the village and informs us of our shared progress and goals. Rennek is a born leader and it actually feels good to relinquish control to a person whose rule I have faith in.

  That is not to say working with others comes without its challenges. Yesterday was a trial in particular. Working with Rad is always a test of my equanimity. He is lazy, with an inflated sense of self-importance. The irony that I have been described exactly so is not lost on me. This is undoubtedly part of the penance I must pay.

  Yesterday was a pillar of hope as well. Alessandra finally came to me. It was a struggle to wait for her to approach. Most days I thought it would never happen. But I have bonded to this woman and if all I have is her from a distance, then I will take that. Though, I would gladly prefer to have her much closer…

  This is the beginning of what I had hoped for. A second chance. Or maybe this is my third or fourth chance… I often try to repeat the advice Khalil imparted me with so I do not forget what Alessandra expects from me—what she deserves from me. Impatience has been my greatest foe in the past weeks, but the waiting is over. We have delved into a new territory now. One that I am excited for.

  I tuck my handheld under my pillow and have a small breakfast of a sweet, fat fruit that the humans refer generally to as berries, rolled with nuts in a pink cabbage leaf. Like every morning, the pink from the leaf stains my fingers. I rinse my hands and face in a wash basin and gulp down water to hydrate myself for the day. I grab all the shovels even though I am not truly expecting Rad to return today to help digging out the sample pond. I certainly don’t expect him to come now, considering the chastising he received for spurning Reagan. Still, I bring the shovels, just in case one of the other Nev come in his stead.

  Just as I’m about to open my door I hear a knock. When I open it I am shocked to see Alessandra. Her wild hair is tied up on top of her head and her eyes still look sleepy. She holds a steaming cup in each hand.

  “Tea?” she offers. “Or ceata, I guess, but same difference.”

  “Is something wrong?” I ask, I can’t think of what she is doing here, so early especially. The sun hasn’t even fully risen yet and the world outside is still shaded in the cool grayness of dawn.

  “No, I just happened to get up early and I knew you wouldn’t have a hand today so…” She wiggles the cups in her hands. “I’m here to lend a hand.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Alessandra. The work I have planned today will be very difficult—”

  “Calm down, I think I can handle digging a hole. Plus, I haven’t helped out in the fields at all and I feel like I should start paying my dues out here once in a while.”

  We drink our ceata in silence before heading out to the proposed location for the practice pond. I am too surprised by her appearance at my door this morning to think of anything interesting to say. Though the silence does not seem to bother her.

  Once at the hole, I pass her a shovel and we begin to dig. Elysia sings to us. It is the song of birds and insects and the breeze ruffling through the trees. We join the music with the sounds of our scraping shovels, digging into the dirt.

  “I am still surprised to learn your parents never taught you how to swim,” I say after some time. Alessandra chuckles at how I have chosen to break the silence.

  “Believe it or not, buddy, it’s the truth,” she replies.

  “They taught you music but not something so essential as swimming?”

  “Essentials depend on perspective, don’t they? To my parents, I got all the essentials. Music was the most important thing to them,” she says.

  “Do you think they miss you?” I ask, and I hear her shovel come to a halt.

  “No. No, they don’t.”

  “How do you know?” I stop shoveling as well. For the first time now, I imagine the people from Alessandra’s old life. I think of how everyone she meets falls in love with her. Her parents, her friends, any men from her past… they all must miss her terribly.

  She lets out a long sigh and looks out at the trees in the distance. Looking back to me just once, she locks my gaze, as if checking to see if I will truly listen this time. She doesn’t know that I would drop to my knees and beg her to share her innermost thoughts and emotions with me. I wait, and she finally begins to share herself with me.

  “When I was seven my mom was diagnosed with cancer… wait… let me back up. Okay, so my parents were musicians. Nothing big time, just a small-town band that played at all the local bars. They traveled a little bit, played music, partied. They always knew they wanted to have kids, but they wanted to wait until they settled down before they settled down.”

  “When they finally had me, they were a bit older than average parents. They kept trying for a second, but it never happened for them. As a last-ditch effort, my mom went to the doctors to see if there was anything to be done about her fertility.”

  “That’s when they found the cancer, but it was too late at that point. She was gone before I turned eight. After that, it was just me and my dad. He was a good guy, you know? But my mom was like his life energy. He never really recovered from losing her.”

  “He had become a music teacher, giving lessons in the garage behind our house. He kept a band going. I don’t think he knew what else to do. That was the only way to connect with him anymore. So, we didn’t do stuff that other families did. We didn’t go to the beach and I didn’t learn how to swim. I stayed up late in the smoke-filled garage with him and his band and I’d be vocals or play whatever instrument they needed backup on. It was a different kind of childhood, but it was good.”

  “But like I said, my parents were older when they had me, and my dad passed away before I finished grad school. So no, my parents aren’t missing me.”

  She starts digging again and I reluctantly join her. “You know, that is likely the most you have ever shared with me about your life before all this.”

  “Not for lack of trying,” she mumbles.

  “My parents are gone as well.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

 

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