Page 22 of Her Alien Boss

“The least of your worries, I assure you,” I tell her.

She blanches a bit, then her expression turns to excitement because her wiring for intensity means that every time something scares her she also becomes inexorably fascinated by it. That will also come in handy for the work I need her for.

This little human is not going to be easy to handle, but I do suspect she is going to be perfect for the job.

“Are we walking to work?”

She asks the question as I lead her out of my home away from home.

“Yes,” I say. “This place is really more of a working city than a traditional city.”

“Oh,” she says. “It’s like a project place.”

I nod, because that seems to be the appropriate response. This place has no official name.

The facility is located on an asteroid at the far end of a belt about a lightyear away from any real civilization. There are around a thousand or so souls who live and work here; like me, they have private accommodation ranged around the main building, which is so large it takes up almost all of the asteroid. What is left is dedicated to housing and some attempts at landscaping.

It has a post code so we can get deliveries, and even that makes me uneasy from time to time. Those who work here are sworn to secrecy. Most have no access to outside communications, and will not leave until the project is at an end and is no longer secret. I have a privileged position of being able to come and go as I please because I have a privileged position in general. I like to bring back snacks when I do a run anywhere, so that there’s a general sense I did not forget those who have been on this rock for ten years or more. Some of them have started families, in fact, with others they met here. We’re running a small school for the children who have never known anywhere or anything but this far-flung rock that barely has an atmosphere. It was with great efforts that gardens were started, but I am digressing.

This is where we keep the secrets we cannot risk our enemies, or gods forbid, our allies from accessing. Due to my status both as a researcher and in general, I have one of the highest tiers of clearance. I answer to nobody directly, but there are collaborative partners I work with. We have something of a decentralized command. Some might say I run the place according to my will, and perhaps, due to the fact my largesse funded most of it, that could be considered true.

I am not interested in playing tyrant to the other scientists, or boss to anyone besides the human who is walking by my side, her eyes so wide, her head on a swivel. I reach out and put my lower right hand on the back of her neck to keep her going in the direction I want her to go, right into the main entrance of the main building.

It is built conically, much wider at the base than it is at the top. The many floors are curved to create a calm flow. On a crisp morning, or sunny evening, there is a serenity to the building that I like to think anchors us all to the greater purpose.

She allows me to direct her, and at my touch she even moves a little closer to me. I think she is overwhelmed by the size of the space. She had a similar look at the port.

“It’s so big,” she says. “How many floors is it?”

“A few hundred,” I tell her. “But most of them are unoccupied at the moment.”

“Are we going to go all the way to the very top?”

The question is adorable. The way humans think has caught me off guard. I knew she had a simple animal brain, but being asked if we will ascend for the sheer sake of ascending is such a perfect example of the human condition. She sees a thing, and she wants to know how far she can go with it. She is going to be perfect for the experiment.

“We can,” I tell her. “The lab we are going to be working in is about three-quarters of the way up.”

“Why?”

“Why is it three-quarters of the way up?”

“Yes,” she says. “Why is it there?”

“Because that is where it is located,” I say, slightly confused by her question, but mostly sure that it is a nonsense inquiry. She wants to know why things are because she wants to know. It’s not deeper than that.

I guide her through the foyer of the building, which is not built with a reception. We have security, and that is it. Nobody is coming here to get help from a cheerful receptionist.

“There are so many guards,” she says. “Why are they so heavily armed?”

“Well, we do all have four arms,” I quip.

She lets out a groan, followed by a little laugh that helps her get past the wall of security without any more fear.

We step into an elevator.

“We have these on Earth,” she says. “It’s so interesting how creatures across all kinds of planes of things all end up coming up with the same solutions to the same problems, huh?”

“Indeed,” I say, enjoying her prattling as we make our way up the building.