Page 73 of Uncovered By the Alien Commander
Xandor sighs, “Listen Tyrxie, you’re a young female who was stuck in an awful situation. With your freedom on Nebia, you can discover who you really are.”
Each word feels like the most bitter blow. “You promised to protect me. Remember?” I remind him as my tears come crashing down, along with my dreams of safety.
“You killed my promise at the end of a gun. You’re too volatile, moving from desire and hatred in the blink of an eye.”
“I’m sorry, Xandor, please!” I plead, my vision now blurred.
“No, I can’t trust you,” Xandor declares, turning away with folded arms. “Go now. I tire of this, and I’ve much work to do.”
Consumed by utter devastation, I’m unable to find the right words, unable to endure anymore. I can only glance at the others. Logarn has no interest as he remains fixated on his meal. My eyes find Noroth’s, who offers a sympathetic grimace before lowering his gaze.
There’s nothing I can do. I am alone, as always.
Shaking from the sobs, I rub the tears from my eyes, turning to exit the room. As the door slides open, I hear Noroth say, “You were hard on the female.”
And as I round the corner, I hear Xandor reply, almost inaudible, “I know, but it had to be done.”
Did it?Why can’t he understand this is what I want? The other times irrational fear and confusion clouded me, caused by years of abuse and neglect. Is there nothing I can do? My mind races with possibilities—some words, some act that will right this wrong, that threaten to pull me into a bottomless abyss of pain.
Maybe Xandor is right. Some things can’t be mended?
I continue towards Job’s workshop, not sure why—maybe to finish my project. It’s hard to tell, my heads fuzzy with intense emotions. Feelings of loss and bitter disappointment, foreign to me, surge within. My life has been full of fear, terror, and pain, but nothing like having my hopes dashed to pieces. It’s crueler to soar from the heights of joy, only for my wings to be cut, leaving me plummeting into a chasm of tears.
Entering the workshop with erratic breaths, I almost fail to notice Job bent over, reaching into a crate of arcweave plates. His presence irks me; I wish to be left alone, to avoid being seen in such an obvious emotional and vulnerable state.
They’ll see my weakness and take advantage.
Job jolts upright, his antenna twirling until they point in my direction. “Oh, Tyrxie, you frighten with sudden appearance. Yes?” he states, his tone quicker than usual.
“I... I’m sorry, Job,” I reply, wiping my face in haste.Too much apologizing of late.
“Hmm.” Job studies me with his beady eyes, like he’s sizing up how much filler he needs. “Your face is leaking. You visit Captain again? Yes?” he inquires.
“No,” I avert my gaze, seeking to escape his questioning scrutiny. “I haven’t seen him in days.”TheCaptains been on my mind, knowing Xandor has taken over some of his duties. A part of me fears what will become of him.But I squash the thought.He’s not worth it!
Job lowers his goggles, and peers even closer, forcing me to step back. “Hey, what are you doing?” I exclaim, throwing my hands up.
“Hmm,” Job continues, his investigation unperturbed. “Tears, yet no mis-colored bumpy skin present. Yes?” He lifts his googles over his narrow head. “Perplexing, usual pattern now altered. Yes?” he adds with a fluttering of his arm limbs beneath his mouth.
Can I confide in Job?Perhaps not. I’m still not convinced Glaseroids possess empathy beyond their insatiable curiosity, but my desperation compels me to try. “It’s Xandor the Klendathian, I...I...” My words trail off. Vocalizing my thoughts in front of Job’s expectant antennae proves more difficult than I suspected.
Job taps his fingers with impatience, “Giant mammaloid now mating you? Mod might have ointment. Yes?”
“No!” I snap back, the thought of it both terrifying and exciting. “...it’s the lack of...mating that’s the problem,” I struggle, stammering the words, cringing as I see the confused expression spreading over Job.
“Hmm, but you eager female, who displays mating signals? Yes?” Job tilts his head, and I’m glad he’s taking my problems seriously for once.
Mating signals? I’ve told him I want to be with him? Isn’t that enough?
“I... I think so,” I reply, my voice uncertain, now scratching my head. “What type of mating signals?”
“I’m like sire to new pupa,” Job sighs, casting nervous glances around him, as if he’s about to reveal some great secret. I’m drawn forward, leaning with bated breath, on the verge of discovering the key piece of information. “You display engorged egg sack? Yes?” Job asks in a hushed whisper.
His exoskeleton turns a darker shade as I stare at him, stunned with disappointment. “Engorged egg sack?” I repeat, my tone loaded with disbelief.
“You speak quieter. Yes?” Job suggests, glancing over his shoulder. “No intact male resists such sight. Yes?” Job adds as his beady eyes widen.
“Um,” I persist, wondering if there’s a way his strange species’ advice might be relevant somehow.I’m in this deep!“What if I don’t have an... engorged egg sack?” I whisper the last part for the sake of Job’s modesty.