Page 8 of How My Fake Alien Boyfriend Learned to Cook and Saved the Family Business

“Please ensure all items are stowed away, and passengers are secured in their seats.”

With shaky legs and zero other ideas, I settled into the pilot’s chair. My elbow bumped against a lever, catapulting me into a full recline. Flexible straps snaked across my body and clicked into place.

“Passengers may experience dizziness, vertigo, memory loss, temporary loss of vision, hearing, smell, and feeling in their limbs. Though it is rare, some passengers may experience a disintegration of all bodily particles once the vehicle reaches full speed, resulting in gelatinization. In such cases, the passenger may or may not re-coalesce upon reaching the final destination.”

“What?”

“Keep your hands inside the vehicle at all times, and please enjoy your flight!”

The control panel flashed bright green before going completely dark as the pod launched into warp speed.

Echoes of my scream lingered as I drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

There was a nonzero chance that I was dead. Lost, alone, and dead. Pain radiated through my body, and my breathing was labored and shallow. The only thing giving me hope that I was still alive was the pressure in my bladder. I really, really had to pee.

But first, I had to confirm signs of life.

I grunted and managed to wiggle my fingers through the hu-suit. That was promising. I moved on to my toes. Then limbs, lifting first my arms, then legs gingerly off the armrests of the pilot’s chair. Slowly, I peeled my head from the headrest and sat up.

My surroundings swirled around me before settling into place.

The ship’s speakers crackled when the computer announced, “Good morning, passenger, and welcome to Earth!”

And I leaned over the side of the pilot’s chair and retched.

At least I’m not dead, I thought as I wiped my mouth with the back of a hand. An increased chance of survival only for Sel to kill me when I get back to Xaerea, but I would take what I could get.

The computer began a countdown, big red letters flashing across the console.

Self-destruction? Stars above, this spacecraft was ridiculous.

I definitely understood why these pod models were being replaced. And for one short moment, I felt a kinship with Sel for looking down her nose at them.

It took several moments to gather my thoughts and jump into action. If the pod was prepared to self-destruct in—I looked at the screen—sixty seconds, I needed to hurry. I hustled to a locker by the door and dug through its contents. Nutritional supplements, first aid kit, portable camping gear. Things a terranaut might need if they ever got stranded. I pulled out a bright green pack and shoved the items inside. In a slot by the steering wheel, I found a comms deck. I slid it out and checked the charge. Still full. If I was lucky, I could use it to communicate with a nearby Xaerean base or try to call in help from Command.

And that was about it. Not much, because obviously I didn’t get a chance to pack for this trip. At least I had enough critical survival supplies to get me through several days, possibly a week or more if I was careful.

Proud of myself for keeping my cool in the face of unprecedented circumstances, I slung the pack over my shoulder and stood at the threshold. Despite the unconventional way I ended up here, I couldn’t deny that I was excited. I’d made it to Earth, the planet I had been obsessed with since a young boy. The blue and green dot, with all of its oceans and mountains, flora and fauna, and people. So many people.

The next step I took would be my first on Earth’s soil, and I was determined to savor it. Because it would probably also be my last, if Sel and the higher-ups had any say.

My shoulders slumped at the realization. They would not let me get away with this back on Xaerea; I would never live it down.

The screwup. The mess. The Xaerean who accidentally launched himself to an unknown location on Earth and forced us into an intergalactic search mission. Yes, that Kalexdyorn—the one no one likes.

“Computer, open the door!”

The alarm blared, the computer’s countdown continued.

“Computer?”

The door stayed firmly closed. Okay, so it was panic time. I resorted to my tried-and-true method of pressing lots of buttons and pulling levers at random with no regard to order or direction.

Miraculously, there was a hiss, then the click of a lock unlatching as the door swung slightly ajar. I placed a hand on the cool metal, closed my eyes, and inhaled.

My first steps on Earth. A moment to be remembered fondly, regardless of what happens next.