Page 2 of When She Wishes

He taps at his data pad and brightens. "There is a posting for a farm worker, though. I don't suppose you know anything about farming?"

I'm tempted to lie. "I do not..."

"Ah." Sinath's expression falls, as if he truly does want to help me.

"...but I'm good with bots and repairs. I've seen the farms here and most of them are ran by bots, right? Because the humans are not as sturdy as other aliens?"

He studies me thoughtfully and then picks up his data pad again. "This request is for someone— male or female, no preference—to assist with running a farm. The owner has a stable of young meat-stock and planted fields and needs help with daily chores and maintenance. She offers room and boardand a small portion of the profits in exchange for work. Does that sound like you?"

I try not to get too excited. "It does. I can do all of that. I don't care where I sleep as long as I can see the stars."

"The profits might not come in for months yet and you might be sleeping in a barn," he warns. When I shrug, Sinath holds his data pad out again. "All right, I'm going to go over your records for vetting, as the farmer requested. Once we've established that you're not a criminal, I'll give you the coordinates and you can head over and meet your new boss. If she's not happy with you as an employee, though, your work pass will be revoked and you'll have to leave the planet, though. Those are the rules."

I hold my hand out again so he can scan it. "I'm a hard worker and can handle anything they throw at me. Whoever it is, I'll make them happy."

An hour later,I'm following my data pad's chirping directions as I walk the fields on the outskirts of Port. The farm is surprisingly close to town, no more than a brisk half-hour walk away. Which is good for me, as I don't own an air-sled. I'd happily walk a road four times as long if I got to stay, though.

As I approach, it's obvious to me which of the farms is the one in need of assistance. I've been studying each farm as I pass by, and there's a cozy sameness to them. The plot of land is fenced off, with crops in one very large field and meat-stock wandering a second field near a uniform-sized barn. Each house is the same—a triad of domes clustered together to make a small dwelling with a path leading to the barn and an air-sled parked nearby. Most of the farms are tidy and neat, with bots patrolling the rows of crops.

Then I get to one farm that has knee-high weeds in the yard. The crops look ragged and spindly. I can see no bots. As I approach, I do see the meat-stock are in the pasture, but the pasture itself is churned and muddy, the water in the trough sludgy. There's a whirring sound I follow and find a bot stuck against a fence, one of its propellers broken. It bangs against the fencing over and over until I pull it free, and then look around a bit more. It's clear this farm is suffering from neglect, and it makes me wonder why. Is the owner sick? Wounded? Or do they simply not want to farm?

Does it even matter? They're offering me an opportunity to stay.

In a way, the chaos here on the farm is a good thing. It shows that this person needs my help. I might not know a lot about meat-stock or crops, but neither do most of the humans transplanted here. I have a data pad I can look information up on. Better yet, I'm excellent at repairing machines, and I can get these bots working smoothly. I bring that to the table, at least.

I power down the broken bot and head to the front of the house. No one's come out to greet me, a stranger wandering their property. As I approach the door, my nostrils flare and my whiskers twitch as I try to pick up other scents. I smell a female. Just a female. Human. There's no scent mark on the door that would claim her as someone's mate. Mesakkah don't mark a home (which I find bizarre and insulting to their females), but it's more likely that she's alone.

I knock on the door.

"Coming," calls a female in a human dialect. My translator automatically interprets it for me, but after almost a year of working on this planet, I've grown used to the slight pause as my brain registers the translation.

So I wait at the door.

And wait.

It seems to take the female a very long time to come to the door, to the point that I wonder if she's not coming at all. But then the door opens and as it does, the wafting, delicate, tempting scent of my dreams comes over me.

I stare at the tiny blonde female I've dreamed about for months now. She holds a pile of laundry in her arms, so big it practically dwarfs her, but it's the same woman from that night in the cantina. A little more tired and drawn, a little disheveled, but it's her. I'd know that keffing scent anywhere.

She stares back at me, her eyes wide. "Oh my god, it's you."

I gape, both thrilled and surprised. It seems like the stars are paying attention to my wishes after all. "I'm...here about the job."

"What? Oh—oh no. It can't be you!" The human woman sounds panicked at the thought.

My pride is wounded at her response. I've dreamed of seeing her again, of reuniting, and this wasn't how I pictured it would go. "I don't see why not? I'm strong. My paperwork was vetted by the custodians and I'm willing to work. I want the chance to stay on Risda. You won't find a harder worker than me."

"I just...it can't be you." Her expression turns desperate. "You're the reason I'm in this situation in the first place."

"Situation?" I repeat, not following. "What situation?"

She throws aside the laundry she's got piled into her arms, revealing a huge, pregnant belly. "That night in town? You...me...what we did..."

I just stare.

"I'm having a litter."

And she bursts into tears.

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