“Um,” he warbled. “Should I be afraid of the truth?”
A smile stretched across my face. That was a good sign. He had asked, instead of rushing straight to fear.
“No,” I said. “But I have been taught to shelter it.”
Assistant 23 made a small sound of confusion. He twisted all the way around so that his chest faced mine. His thin shoulder came halfway up my body, reaching the midpoint of my collarbone. The other humans were not so delicate. He was unique. He was… special.
“Wait a second, I’m confused,” he said. “Aren’t Maeleons honest about their feelings? Why can’tyoube?”
I stared into his tinted face shield. My imagination ran wild wondering what he looked like. So close, yet imperceptible.
“You said it best when you called me creepy,” I stated. “In my youth, my actions were… undesirable.”
“Your youth? Aren’t you the same age as Zat’tor and the others?”
“No. I am much older. But I could not expect you to know that.”
“Y-you are?” The squeak in his voice reminded me of a cute small creature. “How, um… how old are you?”
There was no point in obfuscating the facts.
“I am too old to breed,” I admitted. “Maeleons of my age cannot pollinate others anymore.”
Something in the gentle way Assistant 23’s shoulders rose and fell with his breathing made him seem relieved.
“Um. That’s interesting,” he said, and it sounded genuine. “Can I ask a nosy question?”
“Always. I enjoy your nosy questions.”
He shuffled. “Is that also considered… undesirable? In a Maeleon?”
“Not necessarily. But I am. Due to the aforementioned creepiness.”
Another breathy laugh escaped Assistant 23. “Okay, seriously? You’re notthatcreepy. I was mostly joking.”
I could not remove the smile from my face as I watched him. “That is kind of you. But I was not joking.”
He shuffled again as if shifting to get comfortable in the tattered suit.
“What about your, um, actions?” he asked. “What do you mean by that? Did you act like Kur’tok? Throwing fits and running around angry all the time?”
I was not surprised that he brought up my rude and rebellious red sibling. As far as badly behaving Maeleons went, he was far up on that list.
I spoke slowly and deliberately, curious whether the language-loving human would pick up on what I was not saying.
“The difference between Kur’tok and I… is that he has been tamed.”
Assistant 23’s breath hitched. “But… you haven’t?”
“That is correct.”
“But you’re not angry, and you don’t throw temper tantrums,” he pointed out. “Actually, you seem really calm and put-together.”
He was sweet. But he was not understanding. Before this went any further, he needed to know.
I pushed myself off the ground, sitting upright at the waist. It made Assistant 23 look even smaller.
“When I was a youngling,” I said, staring down at him without blinking, “I became obsessed with a type of creature. A Ripgrass.”
