Page 1 of I Punched an Alien and Now We’re in Couples Therapy

Prologue

Intern 104 Log: Monsoon 57, Year 10, Waffles

Phase 3: Prerelease conditioning

Subject S 52 has been reported to be one of, if not the most, dangerous individuals on the planet. The dark-gray Sankado’s file is so littered with deceased agents and interns that all BCI personnel are instructed to set our paralyzing ray guns to their maximum setting of five. Three would be enough to incapacitate most Sankado; level five would turn even the largest specimens into drooling docile cargo.

My feathers stood on end when the large male shifted in the back seat. Even sedated as he was, I had no desire to test S 52’s patience. With that in mind, I flipped open my notes and scanned the pages for both my cargo’s preferred names. Subject 4, or Dory, I should say, had expressed an unfavorable reaction each time the human was referred to as her title.

For all the sharpness in my beak, I couldn’t fathom why. Names were a personal affair. To have every stranger use it, whether they be a lover or strained acquaintance, seemed so…indecent.

Each subject had their given name written next to their number. Memorizing both subjects’ names, I closed my notes and returned my attention to the sky ahead. When command sent out a report of a deadly confrontation between Osid’s clan and Dory’s mating group, no one was surprised. Even less so when it was reported that Osid’s mate, Subject 12’s—Blair’s—affection meter had somehow reached a negative rating. If I were saddled with a violent killer for a mate, I doubt I’d have much affection for them either. Still…I didn’t even know the meter could go negative.

According to the report, Blair and Osid had only been paired together for less than two days. Yet the vehement rage seeping off the both of them was enough to make my beak shiver. In that sense, maybe they were a perfect match. Flapping out my wing, I pulled on my communication feather to check the AI’s database on their compatibility, then whistled at the 99.73 percent rating. A near perfect score!

Blair’s affection meter status sat below the rating, with a red warning sign flashing around it, indicating the couple’s deep distress. Naturally, command started molting as soon as her meter reached its first negative bar, and it was decided to capture the pair for rehabilitation. A stroke of bad luck caused yours truly to draw the short tail feather to retrieve Osid and his mate. At arrival on the scene, I cranked my ray gun as high as it would go and zapped him into oblivion without much thought and collected his mate soon after, with a much gentler setting, in case the human was already pregnant.

Now, forty thousand feathers in the air, I realized I should have had the same strict safety precautions with his mate. Blair’s movements were sluggish, which was the only reason I had enough time to react when she pulled out her gun. In her weakened state, she struggled to hold the gun up to Osid’s head and had to use her free hand just to steady her arm.

A very dignified squawk rattled the hovercraft before I shoved the yoke forward, causing the ship to plunge down. Blair’s arm flew up just in time for the bullet to bury itself in the windshield instead of her mate’s skull.

The Sankado’s head lolled uselessly to the side, but the contempt in his dulled eyes reflected in the pitiful spark of flame that ignited from the tips of his fingers.

With an indignant snarl, Blair raised the gun again.

“Oh no you don’t,” I said, and pressed the release hatch. The ship’s windshield retreated, and the sound of screams filled the air. Startled, my fingers slipped from the yoke. There was a click behind me, and I frantically grabbed the yoke and barrel-rolled the ship, once, twice, a third time until the gun slipped from her weakened grasp and fell to the river below.

Blair punched the back of my seat and yelled over the endless screaming. “Hey, you dick, that was a gift!”

“So is life!” I screeched back. With one hand on the yoke, I pulled out my ray gun, turned the dial up with my beak and shot the human, effectively ceasing all her attempts to maim her mate.

Sighing in relief, I finally allowed myself to look down to search for the source of that odd endless screaming.

Frogs. Hundreds of them all gathered in the river below just…screaming.

“Are they supposed to do that?”

I slumped back in my seat and wondered, not for the first time, why I hadn’t simply quit several cycles ago and avoided all this mess.

Several Cycles Ago

Intern 104 Log: Monsoon 44, Year 10, Waffles

Phase 3: Prerelease conditioning

Snow kicked up around the hovercraft as it drifted softly over the frozen tundra. I guided the ship over the walls of the primitive encampment and let the pod hover near the bonfire where several Sankado had gathered. My fingers trembled as I adjusted the transmitter. The linguistics team had assured me that they had cracked the finer intricacies of the Sankado language enough to deliver this message, but this particular group was known to be hostile against Biwbans.

Their leader came to stand at the forefront, a hulking light-gray male with jagged scars raking across his face and a giant spear in his hand. I cleared my throat, and the static it sent into the mic only made the Sankado scowl. “Hello, alien life-forms, I am a Behavioral Observation Intern with the Biodiversity Conservation Initiati—AHH!”

The spear lodged itself in the windshield of my hovercraft. I flattened my body to the side of the ship, nearly molting when I noticed the missing down feathers on my side. Before the alien had the chance to launch another attack, I flew the craft higher in the air out of striking range. “Headquarters warned me they’d be hostile, but this is ridiculous. Don’t they know not to impale the messenger?”

Swallowing nervously, I placed shaky hands back on the microphone and continued speaking. “We at the BCI would like to extend our warmest regards and hope that you have been settling into your new environment well.”

The leader stomped his hoof, and a smaller male ran to fetch him another spear. He brought the tip to his lips and blew fire until the spearhead ignited.

“Now Subject K 67…let’s not get hasty.”

He smiled and poised to strike.