Page 22 of Mated to the Grumpy Alien

“I am not a human, nor am I Persæn, but I have enough of the information from both cultures to know that your assessment about Irick is incorrect. You are hearing the word slave in the way it comes from your world.”

“I wasn’t aware there was a favorable way to view that word,” I quip. I certainly do not need to be schooled on love by a robot or whatever he is.

“You are correct that in most usages of the word are negative. I can assure you that Persæn culture does not approve of the usage of slaves. But the way your human brain is interpreting be’lahshuk to that of heart slave. You are substituting the heart for flesh and believing Irick means to make you a pleasure slave. Are you not?”

I open my mouth to argue, but then pause, because yeah, that’s pretty much what I thought. Though his lack of pursuit these last few weeks do call that into question.

“That is the closest interpretation. Perhaps the concept itself does not lend itself to human translation. Your be’lahshuk is your other half. The one whom makes your soul whole. Yes, you are bound to them, but you are not owned by them anymore than they are owned by you. For historians like myself it is a literal half and half make a whole. For the Persæn people it is more complicated than that. Yes, they believe their matches are ordained by the Tides of Be’lah, but that does not mean their relationships are without struggle or commitment. They do not blindly accept a mate. They, too, make the decision to love daily.”

His words, though delivered in a near monotone cadence, are fueled by passion. It’s an odd dichotomy, but speaks to the people he represents. As an art teacher, I know more than some, that a people’s creation, their art, is a mirror of their beliefs and views. So Cyg might not understand the concept of love in a way that allows him to feel it, he does seem to understand the way his people view it.

“Perhaps I have allowed my twenty-first century brain to make assumptions about things. I know better. Still, doesn’t it seem awfully convenient that Irick and I belong together and we just happen to land in the same place and time?”

“I do believe, Cressida of Austin, that is the point of the Tides of Be’lah. There is a pattern to the motion of the universe that is not easily seen. The Be’lah are everywhere and part of everything. They use the flow of the universe to bring order and peace to the souls they touch. They would not have paired you if you were not perfectly matched.”

“What else have I misunderstood or refused to see?” I ask, mostly myself.

“The water filtration system Irick created and employed for the villagers. He crafted it to look like their basic materials so as to not confuse them. But it should alleviate any problems with unclean water,” Cyg says.

Tears prick at my eyes. “He did that? Truly?”

“See for yourself,” Cyg says, then the viz screen reveals the well the villagers use. Another image flashes beside what looks to be a live feed from the village. It’s a diagram of some kind of ultraviolet filter deep underground.

I swipe at my eyes. “Why did he do that?”

“Irick has lived in isolation for many years. The people in the village know he is not one of them and do not welcome him, but he could stand by when the village was struck with what you would call dysentary. He devised the filtration device for them. I estimate the people of this village are far healthier than those in other villages nearby.”

I give a sigh. “So he’s helped them and they’ll never know it.”

“Indeed. And then there is the matter with your reading viz,” Cyg says. “He figured out a way to charge your battery. I’m afraid we will not be able to add new content, but everything you previously had should still be there.”

“Wait, he fixed my kindle?” I ask. I dig more in my backpack and find my Kindle. The green light at the base confirms Cyg’s words. “Oh my hell!” I grab the device and hold it to my chest. No new books, but being able to have the ones I’d previously purchased is everything.

“Camera has been restored,” Irick announces as he enters the room.

I launch myself at him and he doesn’t miss a beat, just catches me as I splat against his wall of a chest.

chapter

twelve

Irick

My Shuka is in my arms. Willingly in my arms.

Her lips brush against my cheek and the need to complete our bond surges through my body. Can she feel it too? I know that Persæn women feel the bonding urge, but Cressida is human. So I am uncertain how that works. I could ask Cyg to scan her body for elevated temperature and other symptoms, but right now I am just enjoying her being in my arms.

Her full curves press decadently against my torso. My arms are wrapped around her, clasped together at the small of her back. I want to reach down and grip handfuls of her plump bottom. Have her open herself to me, encase me in the tight grip of her thighs.

“You are pleased to see me,” I state, realizing I likely sound like Cyg stating the obvious. But I am unaccustomed to being the cause of her joy.

“Yes,” she breathes. “I truly am.”

“Has something happened, my Shuka? Are you unwell?”

“Nothing happened exactly, but I have seen some things,” she says.

I set her down on her feet and pull her over to the bed area. “Cyg, do a full body scan on Cressida to ensure her health.”