Chapter 1 - First Encounter
The sound of the shuttle docking to the APH station wakes me up from my nap. Space travel always knocks me out: the cozy pods, slightly oxygen-enhanced air, and thrum of the engine lulls me to sleep. I wish I could have stayed awake and looked at the stars, but I’m living on a space station for the next six months will satisfy all my star-gazing needs.
I grew up in a medium sized human colony on Mars. All that means is that we get none of the excitment of a city and all the atmospheric smog. The only time I had a clear view of the stars was on class field trips.
Well, all thats about to change at APH. It’s a station at the edge of what humanity controls. I’ve read it has some of the clearest views to the edge of the milky way. APH also has more alien influence and the loosest conduct rules. I’ve read on chatboards that inter-species couples actually live together on the station!
I drop my bags off in my tiny rented apartment, and I really need to emphasize how tiny it is. The bed is a murphy bed that comes down from the wall. I have to roll across the bed once I put it down since it spans the full width of the room. past the bed is a sliding door to a “wet room” with a cramped shower, toilet, and sink. The kitchen is within arms length of the bathroom and has a small counter below the food transport machine inset in the wall. This is something the internet also warned me about: no making your own food. It either comes out of the glorified tube or you buy it in the restaurant district. One of the quirks of space station life I’ll have to get used to.
I don’t even bother changing out of my travel clothes before heading out to explore. Everybody back home warned me against taking my graduation trip so far away. All my university friends had decided to stay within the solar system. It felt like my entire life I was doing what was expected of me, and instead of making me liked it made me boring. It was “Lilian you need to study hard and make good grades” directly into “No need to show off, you need to loosen up a little.”
But I’m the one on APH now, and I can do whatever I want.
I’m starving after the flight so I go straight to the restaurant district. The smells and colors are overwhelming. The center of the wide promenade is lined with food vendors in tents and carts. I see species of people that I’d only seen online or in textbooks. To be fair, humanity has chosen to do most of it’s diplomacy and trading through two species: the Dromal and the KithQi. Everyone else is pretty much filtered out. But not on APH.
The bartering thats taking place at the stalls is intimidating so I walk into the first sit-down restaurant I hit. And I quite literally hit it: Im so dazed from the sensory overload that I stumble into a server. She’s a Dromal who is probably 6 inches shorter than my 5’8” self and I almost knock her over.
“Hey! Watch where you’re going and stop gaping at me like a fish *angry string of Dromal*”
“Oh.” I stand there, aware that my mouth is gaping. “I’m sorry.”
When she doesn’t bother looking back at me I decide to venture further into the restaurant and find a seat.
I’ve never had Dromal food before and I quickly realize that is 100% of the menu. It could have been one minute or ten before the server comes back, I am unaware of time as I read the foreign dish names over and over.
“What do you want?” The server asks impatiently, scratching at a few scales that are shedding around the horns on her forehead.
“Um, this one.” I point to the dish at the top of the middle column, not even trying to pronounce it.
She gives me a look. “Are you sure?”
“Not at all. I’ve never had Dromal food before. Do you recommend something else?”
The server just shrugs, holds out the machine for me to tap my wrist and embedded credit chip against, and walks away.
She returns almost concerningly quickly and drops a large bowl in front of me. The smell of salt, vinegar, and rot comes off in a thick wave and I almost gag. The contents of the bowl are a mix of brown and yellow sludge. Part of it moves of its own accord and my eyes almost pop out of my head. I look down at the utensils on the table and have a hard time deciding whether to use what looks like an ice-cream scoop or the jagged scissors.
I pick up the ice-cream scoop apparatus and am interrupted by the feeling of someone watching me. I look up to see a large, lanky figure approaching me. Definitely not any species I had heard of before. The alien reaches my table and slides into the seat opposite me gracefully, like water running through a deep river.
“If it was rude to watch you and come over, I apologize.” The creature speaks in a deep but slightly breathy voice. Hearing it sends a shiver along my spine, but in a way that promises excitement and not fear.
“No, I dont think so. I unfortunately made an entrance.” I reply and I see the creature’s large almond shaped eyes briefly turn a light orange before it blinks (sideways, I notice) and turn gray again.
“Maybe not unfortunate. Now I am here to warn you about eating Slimmonfu.” He nods at the bowl in front of me, which has begun to wiggle more.
I look at the bowl warily. “I think I see why I need a warning.”
“May I?” He reaches out a hand that ends in four thin tendrils instead of fingers.
I nod and I feel his tendrils brush against my fingers as he takes the scoop and also the jagged scissors. His skin is cool and smooth, neither moist or dry. For some reason I feel myself blushing as he gently removes the utensil from my fingers.
“My name is Rezo.” He says as they begin scooping and snipping the moving mass within the bowl. “What you ordered is popular because it uses all the lifestages of a pesky Dromal bug. It’s more of a survival food than a delicacy, but very efficient and nutritious.”
“Oh, that is a bug.” I say flatly, now seeing what must be the larval and egg stages. The alien’s eyes flicker orange again. Maybe a laugh?
“I’m Lilian. I just got here today.” I add.
Rezo stretches another arm I didn’t even notice he had over to their original spot at the bar. His tendril-fingers wrap around their bowl and actually flatten like putty to stabilize it as he carries it over. All without ever standing up. What else can those fingers do? I realize I’m gaping like a fish again and close my mouth.
If Rezo senses the direction of my thoughts he doesnt show it.
“Here, you can have mine. It’s like noodles.” Rezo places the new bowl in front of me with amazing dexterity.
“Thank you.” I blush and give it a taste. It’s surprisingly good and my body immediately remembers how hungry it is.
Rezo and I eat in comfortable silence for a while. I have no clue what to say, I’ve never actually had dinner with an alien before, so I let him take the lead. I can’t help but sneak glances at him. His skin is perfectly smooth over a mostly flat face. He has all the same basic elements of a human: eyes, nose, mouth, and then some variations. Rezo has an extra set of arms, nothing that looks like ears, and his skin is like stone with small spakles and veins of dark blue.
“You are new here and I am attracted to you. I would like to show you around.” Rezo sets down his utensils, the names of which I had asked and already forgotten.
His bluntness catches me off guard and I cough as I swallow a noodle.
“Oh.” My mind is spinning, trying to catch up with the situation. “I would like that.”
We stand and leave the restaurant, the surly server not even sparing us a second glance. For an hour or so we walk around the station. Rezo is a good tour guide: he is informative without droning on. As time passes, I feel a pull towards him and our hands keep brushing.
Rezo stops in front of a large section of elevators and trams. He has explained to me that the station is laid out in rings going out and floors going up and down. The inner ring is industrial, the middle rings are commercial, and the outer rings have housing. The best apartments are on the outer rings since they have the best views. My apartment is soooo far from being an outer ring.
“We’ve seen the interesting parts of the middle rings.” Rezo says.
“That didn’t take that long.”
“Do you wish it had taken longer?” Rezo leans forward as he asks me, so close that I feel the hum of his voice more than hear it. Rezo’s chest is wide and he is so tall I am at eye level with his collarbone. His clothing is silky and I can sense that the flowy fabric is covering powerful muscles.
I lick my lips, feeling my insides heat up as Rezo stands distractingly close to me.
“I don’t want to be done yet.” I answer honeslty.
I have no idea if going home with a strange alien is a good idea for my first day on a strange space station, but Rezo’s eyes lock onto mine with a look of desire that translates across species and no other thoughts matter.
