An Alien's Hello
Mirtala balanced on her hair. As odd as it seemed to a stranger, her braids lifted her off the ground as she performed her flips. Her braids, structurally sound and thicker than her arms, provided Mirtala the oomph she needed to preserve her energy when it came to her show-stopping floor routine that had the audience cheering at her humble family circus.
But Mirtala was not with her family. She was in a curious camp known as Whispering Rock. It had taken weeks of convincing, but Mama had given her blessing after several passive comments and digs from her older brother. The only promise she needed to uphold to Mama while in camp was her acrobatic prowess, which she kept by practicing every afternoon for a solid hour in the deeper parts of the woods.
She bounced to stand up, then flipped over again. Landing on her braids, Mirtala grinned at the squirrels watching her and extended her arms. She rolled to the side, pushing off on a hand, and she cartwheeled around them in a perfect circle.
"Applause, please!" she announced as she shot to her feet, throwing her hands in the air. The squirrels chittered. "Thank you, thank you! I'll be here every afternoon until I have to go home, but for you, I can do a routine I've been working on!"
The squirrels did not linger. They took off in different directions, and Mirtala frowned. It was boring performing for no one at all. While she would have liked training in the cabin area where more kids stayed, Kitty Bubai demanded an excessive amount of arrowheads from her. It seemed that her toll business now extended to the kid's cabins, and she had singled out Mirtala after a particularly nasty remark she had made about Kitty's body odor hidden by her expensive perfume. (Not that Mirtala regretted the comment; seeing the girl who mocked her brother with her face twisted in distress in front of their fellow PSI cadets was more than appealing.)
She sighed and flopped to the ground like a tired rabbit. She dragged her arms and legs through the grass as if she was making snow angels. Sighing, Mirtala tossed her head back and groaned in a voice that echoed in the otherwise silent forest.
But then she noticed something strange. Hidden among the leaves in a tall tree was something black. She noticed it had two lenses aimed at her. A pair of binoculars seemed to study her, and her eyes widened, her pupils constricting into large dark holes. She jolted to her knees, staring up at the binoculars, unable to move as they lowered.
"Hey! Who's up there? Creep-o!" she cried, wringing her hands together.
Two girls around her size suddenly became visible. They perched together on a thick branch. The girl who held the binoculars wore a large helmet, a pair of baggy blue shorts, and a puffy, deep green vest over her camp shirt. She jumped from the tree, raising her hand above her head and summoning a bright purple thought bubble at the last second before she hit the ground. Dispersing it, she slipped her binoculars into her backpack and zipped it, placing it gently on a thicker patch of grass.
The other girl remained in the tree, her eyes following Mirtala's every move. She wore a striped black and white t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts. Her chestnut hair fell in thin tresses around her chin, the rest of it held up in a short ponytail that reminded Mirtala of a pine cone. Mirtala almost didn't recognize her; she usually had her mouth pressed against the sailor boy's lips at the docks.
She knew their names, Chloe and Milka, but did not know them personally. She had tried reaching out to them, but they never seemed to be anywhere. They had only exchanged first impressions at the camp bonfire when she arrived mere days ago. Afterward, Mirtala hadn't been able to find them in the vast space of the camp.
"Greetings, fellow ambassador," Chloe said, offering her hand. "Where are you from? I am from the radio galaxy hailed as Cygnus A."
Mirtala blinked. She looked between Chloe and Milka, the latter remaining in the tree. Bringing her gaze back to Chloe's hand, she looked back up and asked, "What?"
"She thinks you're an alien," Milka called from the tree.
"Wait! An alien?" Mirtala quickly pointed at herself, her jaw feeling loose. "Me?"
Chloe gave a firm nod. "Affirmative. What we have seen just now proved my theory," she said, slowly shaking Mirtala's hand when she raised it. Releasing Mirtala, she cleared her throat. "Now, there is much to discuss. You are clearly unaware of your heritage. The people of this planet tend to keep that a secret from their adopted alien offspring." She sighed, shaking her head. "My earthling parents did the same to me until I began hearing the voices from my people in Cygnus A and other galaxies. Understandable, but detrimental in the end."
Chloe's explanation went through one of Mirtala's ears and out the other. She slowly tilted her head, an antsy feeling running through her calves. She bounced in place, pursing her lips into a thin line as Chloe continued.
"Considering that your earthling parents are from a traveling circus, it makes sense that you wouldn't have the access that I do to facilities that could teach you. If you'd like, I'll share my research with you, and I can explain which planet you're really from as a fellow member of the Greater Galactic Community," Chloe said, gesturing at her backpack.
"Um, is that right?" Mirtala wondered, rocking from side to side. Her bells quietly jingled on her head. She tapped one of them, muttering, "Frazie told me aliens weren't real."
Chloe frowned, her arms slowly crossing over her chest. "This 'Frazie' person sounds ignorant to me," she bluntly remarked. "I'd recommend a thorough examination of her brain to see why she would hold such beliefs."
As Mirtala tried wrapping her thoughts around Chloe's words, Milka leaped from the tree. She landed right next to Mirtala, her knees bending forward and arms shooting out. She slowly rose, ignoring that she had startled Mirtala, and she cracked her back. She gripped her hip and continued gazing at Mirtala.
Mirtala's eyes widened again at Milka's inclusion. Chloe suddenly shot her finger at her face. Milka's expression changed, her neutrality swapping for astonishment as she also pointed at Mirtala's face. Mirtala gasped, asking if a mosquito had landed on her and lightly slapping her cheeks.
"Your eyes," Chloe said, stepping closer and pointing at them. Now that she was nearer, Mirtala noticed a bright pink bow in Chloe's short hair. "Yes, these eyes! Only the Zwickians can make their eyes this size with pupils that large!" A bright grin split across her face. "It's truly incredible to meet a Zwickian in the flesh! They're a relatively subdued, mild species and prefer sticking to their galaxy, but your real parents must have left you here by mistake."
Mirtala rubbed her eyes. Blinking a few times, she looked between Chloe and Milka, the former practically sizzling with delight. She let Chloe's words sink in, her mouth hanging open until Milka spoke.
"Your eyes are the size of tennis balls," she remarked.
"Is that a good thing?" Mirtala asked.
Milka hummed, then nodded. "Yeah. It can be a good thing if you want."
"It is a good thing! The larger the Zwickian iris and pupil, the more light they refract, which means they can see more colors than normal humans," Chloe replied, rubbing her hands together.
"Like shrimp?" Milka asked.
"Like shrimp!"
Mirtala uttered a short cry of delight. She pulled at her silk, deep blue clothing. "Hey, you know what? Mama always said I had a good eye for color! That's why she always let me sew my own patches onto my skirts when they ripped."
Chloe sucked in a sharp breath and clutched Milka's shoulder. "Another point is proven," she murmured, and she turned to her friend. "Milka, I think I'm really onto something here."
"At this rate, you might be right about her," she replied, looking Mirtala up and down.
Mirtala glanced between them, her prior worry fading. She wasn't entirely sure where Chloe's logic led her, but the more she spoke, the more it seemed plausible that she was an alien. The Aquatos had always been special among humans. Faster, stronger, hydrokinetic, and more traits that normal earthlings didn't have seemed to be possessed by her and her family members.
It was almost comforting hearing that alternative truth. It lessened the worry bubbling inside of her after Nona left for Green Needle Gulch with the man who tricked Papa. The tale Frazie had tried to spin about the history of their family had left her confused and hurt, and she had been unable to come to terms with the depths of that revelation.
But if she was a Zwickian, then it soothed her. She couldn't fully understand why as she continued grinning at Chloe. It simply did.
Chloe cleared her throat. "And for the record, Zwickians are naturally flexible, and they have extremely dense fibers for hair," she added, gesturing at Mirtala's head. "After all, you were able to hold yourself up with your braids alone."
She giggled and removed the bells from her head. Instinctively, she juggled them and maintained eye contact with Chloe. "Well, I'm the only one who can hold herself up by her hair alone in my family. Not even my biggest brother can do it, and he gels his hair up into a sharp cone every morning."
"Huh. Guess that does make you a bonafide alien," Milka said, patting Chloe on the shoulder. "Congrats. You got one."
The grin Chloe gave her was spread from ear to ear. She wiggled her fingers in a way that didn't entirely make sense to Mirtala before locking her middle and ring fingers around pointer and pinky fingers respectively, her hand appearing like it only had two prongs. "Then, I welcome you, fellow alien, as a member of the Greater Galactic Community!" she exclaimed, then quickly cleared her throat. "That's our hand symbol for a warm greeting."
Mirtala giggled, jumping in place. Her feet lifted off the ground, and her knees connected with a small, wobbling levitation ball. She had unintentionally summoned it, but she rolled on it toward Chloe. It disappeared underneath her, and tossing aside her bells, she caught Chloe's shoulders, steadying herself.
"Well, being an alien makes a lot more sense than my Nona turning out to be a war criminal! Seriously! You guys should've heard the crazy story my sister tried telling me last year about that!" Mirtala exclaimed, shaking Chloe's hands
"'War criminal?'" Milka slowly repeated, but Chloe nodded.
"Exactly. You have Zwickian eyes, hair, flexibility, and more, which means you are an alien like me." Chloe took Mirtala's hand and sat her down. "Now, let's discuss this matter. I have much to tell you about your true heritage."
Mirtala nodded, inching closer to Chloe as she dumped the contents of her backpack. Looking up to Milka, Mirtala patted the grassy spot next to her. Milka gave a careless shrug of her shoulders and sat next to her, pulling her knees to her chest and continued staring at Mirtala.
But the longer Chloe explained the depths of Zwickian culture, Mirtala knew it wasn't the truth. She only wanted to placate herself. A quiet part of her whispered counter-arguments and was smothered by her idolization of her Nona, who wouldn't hurt a single hair on her head.
It was pleasant being accepted by new friends, even if she had gone along with a little white lie that wasn't one at all. She believed in Nona, loved her dearly, even if there had been times when Nona couldn't watch her perform. Mirtala's resemblance to her real grandmother was more evident in lost family photos. But she supposed all Zwickians had family problems.