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“When did you become such a boorish beast?” I ask, leveling him with a look of disgust.
“When did you start using contractions like a wingless commoner?” he replies in a snarky tone.
“Contractions were seen as peasant-speak on Sufoi, but not here,” I point out. “The stiffer we sound to humans, the more at risk we are for being exposed.”
In response, he tosses popcorn into his mouth and chews loudly, exposing all of us to the gnashing of his teeth as they crush each popped kernel. “Can we get on with it? I require sleep, and soon.”
His wretchedness is not worthy of my continued attention. I grab my tablet and swipe through the notes to the correct section. “Very well. Let us commence this meeting with our findings. Axil, what have you learned from news and documentaries about human life?”
“Police continue to abuse their power, but that is not necessarily news. Oh, and that humans detest their females,” he says. “It can be the only reason for the many laws that have been unfairly shackled to their bodies.”
“Mmm. Amen, my love,” Vanessa mumbles from the kitchen with her mouth full of dill pickle.
“Why is she here?” Kyan asks. “I thought this meeting was exclusively for us.”
Axil growls as he rises to his feet and steps toward Kyan, cracking his knuckles as he goes. He leans down next to Kyan’s ear, “Do you have a problem with my mate’s presence, brother?”
“Calm yourself. I am quite fond of Vanessa,” he replies quickly with his hands raised in surrender. “It is merely that we were assigned different forms of media in order to study humans, and in these meetings, we share our findings. Do you not find it odd to have a human in our midst as we discuss this information?”
“On the contrary,” I say, delighted to prove Kyan wrong on this point. “It’s crucial to have a human we can trust to confirm our findings. Without Vanessa, we would still believe your claim from a previous meeting, the one about,” I swipe back to the minutes from that meeting, “the importance of giving your mate a single rose when you decide to keep them.”
Vanessa chuckles as she closes the pickle jar and washes her hands. She wipes them dry on a paper towel and joins us in the living room, stretching on her tiptoes as Axil lowers himself, so she may place a kiss on his cheek. He then gathers her in his arms and takes his seat with her on his lap. “Yeah, that’s only something that happens onThe Bachelor,fellas. Don’t expect a woman to agree to become your mate just because you hand her a flower.”
“So human females do not like flowers?” Axil asks, jerking back. “I thought you enjoyed the corsage I gave you.”
“Oh no, we love flowers,” Vanessa says, entwining her fingers with Axil’s and giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I adored my corsage. They’re just not as transactional as they are in the show. By all means, hand out beautiful bouquets of flowers to whomever you’re interested in, but don’t expect something in return. Women don’t owe you anything.”
We nod in unison at Vanessa’s words.
Kyan rubs his neatly shaven, pointed chin. “Then…does that mean ninety days is not a standard window of time for humans to fall in love?”
Vanessa lets out a loud giggle, then covers her mouth, looking embarrassed as she realizes she is the only one who finds this funny. “Oh, Kyan. No, babe. It doesn’t always happen in ninety days. That’s just a dating show theme.”
Kyan slams the recliner’s footrest down with his legs and smacks his bowl onto the coffee table. “I request a new assignment,” he shouts, glaring at me. “Reality TV is a lie, and I have grown tired of its deliberate trickery.”
My answer comes easily and with unbridled glee. “Your request is denied.”
“Outrageous!”
“Easy, brother,” Zev tells him.
“Again, this is why we need Vanessa. Whatever else you learn from reality TV, confirm it with her before you accept it as truth,” I instruct. “Then you will not be so easily tricked.”
Zev raises his hand, and says, “May I go next? I am quite eager to discuss my findings.”
I gesture for him to continue.
His eyes light up as he leans forward. “Well, I have spent much time familiarizing myself with the musical catalogs of Mozart, Prince, and The Rolling Stones––brilliant and talented humans, I must say––and I have come to a rather important realization.”
“That is?” Axil asks.
“I wish to abandon my career as a tattoo artist and focus on becoming a skilled musician.”
“That is…quite the realization,” I reply, unsure of how to proceed with this admission. It is not as if Zev would struggle financially if he were to leave his current job. We have enough money in our coffers to support future generations, but I worry about the state of Zev’s mind with a choice like this.
He has had many jobs in the sixteen years since we landed on Earth, and his overall satisfaction fades quickly with each one. He seems lost, and whenever he decides to begin a new career, he has this same palpable excitement. But how long will it last? “Are you certain you are ready for such an endeavor?”
Although, given how long draxilios live, it’s likely each of us will change careers multiple times. We have all just entered our third century, putting us halfway through the average draxilio’s lifespan. There is much left to learn.
