Page 7 of Love Galaxy

There’s got to be a cellphone somewhere, even if it’s in someone’s pocket.

Sorin

When nobody glances my way, I take another sidestep toward the exit, hoping the camera attached to the lintel has yet to be turned on. Killan is waving an obstinate finger in the director’s face, and Roan is actively pulling on Killan’s shoulders, trying to evacuate him from the doorway. At this rate, John Smith and Chloe will not have installed their remaining cameras bynightfall, and I suspect filming will not officially start until tomorrow.

The door hinges creak as I pull it open. Still nobody pays me any attention, and thankfully the door opens outwards, not inwards, so there is space for me to slide out.

The Female remains in place, one cheek pressed to the blackout blind, her eye to the gap. She has her other eye closed, or else she might have seen me approach.

Like the Human currently filming Killan in the mudroom, this Female also only has two arms. Otherwise, I think we are not too dissimilar in form. Except… Part of her head is covered in long russet-colored hairs that reach down over her shoulders. And her skin is smooth, not scaled at all.

As if finally noticing my presence, she straightens, her eyes wide. Of what little skin is not covered, I can see no scars or any other sign of hard labor. Everything about her is delicate, petite. Easily broken.

“Please don’t tell them I’m here,” she says in a rush.

“Who are you?” I glance at the closed door.

“Sorry, what?” She furrows her otherwise flawless brow. “Is that Swedish? Or Norwegian? Do you know any English?” She suddenly presses both hands to her temples. What little color there is in her pale face drains away, and she sways where she stands.

“You are not well.” I move to step closer, but she holds a shaking hand between us, halting my progress.

“Do you have a cell? I need to make a call.”

“I do not know what acellis. That word does not translate.” When all she does is frown, I switch to Common, repeating myself in the universal language all space travelling species know.

“What?” She wrinkles her small nose.

“You cannot understand me?” I frown. Even Roan, who has never left this planet and who meets very few people beyond Killan and me, can speak Common.

“A cell? A cellphone?” She holds one hand to the side of her face, extending her thumb toward her ear and her smallest finger toward her mouth. “A mobile?”

“Akh… ” The Humaninside has a translator chip. And the first thing John Smith did when arriving was to push an update to our translators so we could understand them in return.

There are always new civilizations developing advanced space travel and joining the Alliance, bringing with them their own cultures, technology and language. Undoubtedly, this Female and her fellow Humans are amongst these new arrivals, those who joined the Alliance after our parents first established the farm and our isolation from civilization.

Nevertheless, even with the new update, my translator cannot understand words that do not have an equivalent in either Common or the language of my home planet. Whatever acellis, it is not something we have.

“Do you have a pocket?” She steps closer and runs her small hands over my chest and down the outer sides of my legs. “God, this jumpsuit feels like real scales.”

“I have scales, yes.”

It is evident she has not met another Ril’os before me. I remember what the director said about not wanting for us to meet before the cameras had all been set up, presumably so they could capture this exact moment.

A little of the tightness that has been holding my chest enthralled since finding out I was to be a contender on LOVE GALAXY eases. I am pleased that our first meeting is private and that I am not going to make a fool of myself before an audience.

I have met Females before, of course. Over the years, a few have visited the farm. They pilot the Freighters with whichour buyers collect their purchases of Nufaral. And there is the Female in the mudroom right now, a member of the production crew.

But I am discovering there is a considerable difference between meeting a Female in the course of business and meeting a Female with the intention of potentially Mating.

Surely I should be doing something to prove myself worthy of her attention.

Mayhaps she is expecting me to say something or to do something in particular. Only… I do not know what. Silently, I curse myself for not preparing more adequately. Instead of helping Killan clean the farm for being filmed, I should have worked with Roan, ensuring my house and myself were ready to welcome a Female.

I remember what Roan told us when he first pitched the idea of applying for the broadcast: they do full compatibility tests and find Females who they think will suit us. Compatible Females. Willing Females.

I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.

She is not what I was expecting.

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