Grandmother had been wearing glowing chains, but now she snapped them with effortless ease.

"You!" she screamed at the woman. "That's the second time you shot me out an airlock! I'm going to lay a huge egg in you, then rip off your head! Then, when you're dead, I'll kill that itty bitty hooman you had with you, and all your friends!"

The armored guard that had pushed me into this place beat a hasty retreat from the arena.

Ripley's hands trembled. She dropped the sword, backing toward the gate she'd entered. Can't say I blamed her. It would take more than a meltable steel blade to injure a large Ss'sik'chtokiwij like Grandma. "How the hell is that thing here! I shot it out an airlock!"

I picked up her sword, but held it blade pointing to the dirt, like a cane, rather than the standard I'm going to slay Orcs' pose. "Not sure. Grandma is very resilient, and we've been in cryogenic stasis for some time. As she just screamed, it appears this is the second time you have done this to her. She did once tell me and Mother a story about how some curly haired woman in her underwear shot her into space a long time ago. She drifted along through space until she bumped into a Pale One's ship."

"Curly haired...underwear..." Ripley muttered to herself. "Bullshit! You mean to tell me that the monster that killed my crew on the Nostromo is the same one that murdered everyone on that base? That's scientifically impossible!"

I stared. "What's a Nostromo?"

"It's a spaceship."

"Grandmother didn't kill all those people at Hadley's Hope. There were other Ss'sik'chtokiwij...what you would call xenomorphs."

Ripley let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, and you."

Grandmother leapt into the air, but the moment she sprang, I jumped in between and shoved Ripley out of the way.

The woman smelled like melted plastic and chemicals, probably due to ingesting alien foods, and wearing alien armor...and her hair...a tangled, matted mess. A crash landing and the harshness of the planet could do that to a human.

Where Grandmother's face showed intense angry emotion, Ripley's reflected the cold and calculating expression of a killer. Even with all that dirt, I couldn't help but shiver. "Where's Newt?"

The woman clenched her fists. "The bastards took her from me. Made her into their pet."

"And the Hicks man?"

"He's a prisoner too. Don't know what they got him doing."

Grandmother snarled. "Who is that hooman trying to fool? I can still smell her under all those chemicals and preservatives!"

I tried to make peace between the two enemies. "Grandmother, she's weak. If I were puny like her and faced someone as fearsome as you, I'd disguise myself too."

A musician, unseen, played songs on some unfamiliar alien instrument. The sounds...not exactly pleasant to the human ear, but tastes differ.

"Tell her flattery will get her nowhere. She's still going to die."

Ripley stared. "What did it just say?"

I shrugged. "Grandmother says she knows who you are. How did you know to disguise your scent?"

"Onboard the Sulaco, the Queen had no interest in Bishop, only me and Newt. Thought it would help."

"Honestly, it doesn't. Grandmother can see, plus your voice sounds the same. By the way, she is still very angry at you."

"Yeah? Tell her the feeling is mutual."

"I think that would be unwise. I do not wish for you to die."

Grandmother clenched her claws. "What did that dirty insect just say?"

"She says she's sorry."

She growled. "Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik, you're a terrible liar. She doesn't look at all sorry to me!"

To delay Grandmother from killing Ripley, I got between them and asked the big Ss'sik'chtokiwij how she got there.

"Long story. It was not fun, that I can tell you! Thrown out an airlock to drift in space forever and die, no thanks to you and your hooman! It's a lucky thing that ship with all those edible creatures passed by when it did! Of course, they didn't give me the courtesy of a soft landing! Very painful. And then those hairy things played a dirty trick on me, luring me in with meat and shooting me with their things!" she scoffed. "I'll get around to impregnating and devouring them all eventually."

Above us, a handful of beaked Yeti meandered among the spectators, passing out food and steaming drinks in mugs in exchange for various trade items. The beverages seemed to have alcoholic properties, for those that drank appeared to be come dizzy and uncoordinated. One unbalanced Yeti man even toppled over a railing and fell into the arena, unconscious.

"Oooh! Snacks!" Grandma made short work of him with a few bites.

The crowd cheered, but I noticed not all the audience cared to see such horrific violence. A few bug eyed Yeti busily worked on plants around the upper arena, beautifying things. To one side, a scholar studied wampum beads.

Grandmother clawed at Ripley. In her haste to dodge the attack, the woman backed right into me.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" she shouted.

"Sorry."

Grandmother smashed me into the dirt.

From the ground, I could still see huge purple polka dotted natural satellite, and two secondary, smaller moons. I chuckled and pointed this fact out to Ripley, but it did not impress her.

The dust storm picked up again, the wind whistling and rasping hard, but with the rock walls and such, it didn't really touch the arena. It just blew over the top of the cliffs and obscured the sky, unloading sprinkles of dust and grit. The weather distracted Grandma for a moment.

I brushed myself and hopped to my feet. "Ellen, how did you get stuck in this horrible place?"

"We jettisoned the pods, but couldn't escape the gravitational pull, so we ended up here. Long story. Suffice to say we were trying to recover a distress beacon, and these hairy bastards trapped us."

"Ripley!"

Both I and Ripley looked up.

Above us, a beaked Yeti now dragged the little girl through the stands by a glowing leash.

"Newt! Ripley yelled.

The woman scanned her surroundings for something, anything that would aid her escape and help the girl, but we, of course, had nothing of use. "Damn!"

Grandmother loomed over me and the woman, breathing heavily, dripping loads of steaming slime. A terrible sight indeed.

The woman cast a glance at the sword in my claws. "Run me through."

I furrowed my head ridge. "What?"

"Run me through with the sword! The sooner I die, the sooner all of this will be over! Better you killing me with that, than your...granny melting my face and impregnating me with her eggs!"

"That's a terrible attitude to have!"

She reached for the blade. "Fine! I'll do it myself!"

I pointed to the girl. "What about her?"

"She's survived a base full of...your...species. The way she tells it, you had something to do with all that anyway. Maybe you can be her guardian. I'm certainly not going to survive this battle..."

I gasped. "She told you something nice about me?" I shook my head. "No. The girl needs a human influence. Someone who can raise her to be a...proper adult human woman. Plus, you don't want her to see you kill yourself, do you?"

"Don't you think I know that?" Ripley screamed. "I don't have a choice! These...things put us in an arena to fight each other to the death!"

Grandmother lunged at Ripley.

"Watch out!" I once again had to shove/push) the woman out of the way. "Do try to be more careful!"

"Why? I don't have a snowball's chance in hell!"

"Try to be more positive."

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Ripley snatched the sword out of my claws. "Fine! You want me to win this fight, tell me something useful, Mickey Goodmill! What are her weaknesses?"

"I'm not going to tell you how to kill my only remaining family!"

"Fuck! What do you want us to do, Ernie? Hug each other?"

Honestly, I did want that.

The woman took one look at my face and groaned. "Oh Good Lord! Ernie, we live in the real world! That's not going to happen!"

"Not with an attitude like that, it won't!"

"You're as useful as an asshole on my elbow, you know that?" She gazed up at Newt.

Other than general glumness, difficult to read the child's emotions, or her opinion about the pending battle.

"She'll never be safe as long as that thing remains alive!" Ripley stomped up before Grandmother, readying her weapon.

The sword appeared to glow with magical power as she brandished it at Grandma. I briefly wondered if it she had some sort of alien Lightsaber type thing, but the weapon didn't become a laser, it just glowed a bright blue when near the towering Ss'sik'chtokiwij.

Grandmother scoffed. "You're coming at me with that metal toothpick? Perhaps I struck you in the head too many times!..No matter, I'll just make you into a hors d'oeuvre with it!"

Ripley slashed at her, but Grandmother just swatted the woman aside. I quickly dragged her to a safe distance.

Since Ripley didn't appear to have an interest in peace, I plead with Grandma. "Grandmother, you are very strong and large. You could easily escape this place and help us go free. Could you please give up this grudge you have against the woman, and perhaps break open a gate and/or help us to climb out through the stands above us?"

Grandmother smirked. "Sure. Right after I kill that hooman."

"But that's what they want! They want a show! They want you to perform for them like a monkey, or if you don't know what those are, like a slave or a pet dog!"

"It's not slavery if you enjoy what you're doing! And I'm going to love killing this human!"

I groaned in frustration.

Another gate crashed open. The mammoth shape of the shadow, the noxious odors, and the roar informed me of what I faced before I could see it. "Excuse me, I gotta take this."

I turned around to face my horned, hairy foe.

The beast wore broken chains, and didn't look happy.

"Hello! Do you speak?"

The monster only growled, so I tried Ss'sik'chtokiwij.

That earned me a confused growl.

Hopeful, I smiled and approached the creature, trying more Ss'sik'chtokiwij, and my best impression of the creature's growling.

The monster grabbed me by the leg and whipped me against the wall like an old rug.

The arena had been decorated with colorful flags and sashes, all with a distinct plant based theme, perhaps due to a festival. Some of these fell off when I hit the wall. Not much use to me in combat. Guess I didn't have the creativity of some martial artists.

Grandmother laughed and clapped her claws appreciatively. "I have got to get one of those! I wouldn't even impregnate it!"

Only because it's trying to kill me, and you hate my guts, I thought.

To my dismay, Ripley also seemed pleased by this spectacle, smiling, with her arms crossed.

She and Grandmother exchanged a look that seemed...almost...friendly.

Of course, a similar thing happened between Herod and Pontius Pilate when they executed their enemy. By the same token, it almost seemed like me dying would bring about the peace so desperately needed between these two...

...Well, until Grandmother tried to clobber Ripley with a thrown alien skull.

Ripley blocked it with her vambrace, flipping her the bird with a gauntleted hand.

I, in the meantime...just trying not to get killed.

I attempted to smash through the hairy beast's skull with my mouth claw, but it seemed to know my intent. It grabbed me by the throat with its tentacles, punching me in the face.

I grabbed an arm, punched through meat and bone with my mouth claw. The monster hurled me to the ground, hammering me with its fists.

I cast Ripley a pleading look. "A little help?"

Scoffing, the woman rushed up and rammed the sword through the monster's chest.

An artless stab. Effective, but not elegant as a performance of a movie swordsman...And not as forceful.

Grunting, she had to shove it in a little further, for it to do any real damage.

The beast backhanded her, knocking her into the dirt.

Grandma made the kind of noises a football fan utters when their favorite team gets pinned down at the wrong 10 yard line.

The crowd seemed to echo this sentiment.

With a gurgling shriek, the monster yanked the sword out of its chest and threw it on the ground.

It stomped after Ripley, fists clenched, tentacles flailing.

I rose from the ground, leaping on the creature's back. The monster shrugged me off like a pesky fly.

I picked the sword off the ground.

As Ripley doubtless already surmised, not a time for dashing Zorro moves. I swung at my foe as if felling a tree.

The beast punched me in the face so hard that I sailed a good five yards through the air before crash landing into the sand.

With a lion's roar, and fists raised, the monster stomped after Ripley again.

I rushed to give aid, but Grandmother pelted me with random debris: Bones, a buckler, a mace.

Most the objects collided with my head, but when I dodged the the mace, it bounced off the hairy thing's skull.

It froze, turned around, and screamed at Grandmother.

Grandmother laughed. "You want a piece of me? After I so graciously allowed you to live?"

The monster shook its fists and roared.

If you could have observed Grandmother's eyes beneath that face plate, you probably would have seen them rolling.

The moment the beast came charging at her, she reared up, gave her most terrifying shriek, and slapped the creature across the arena, into a wall.

The monster staggered back, clearly shaken and cowed by Grandmother's incredible strength, despite not having eyes to view her immensity.

I jumped on the creature's back, arms wrapping tightly around its throat, so I could hang on.

Ripley rushed up beside me, plunging the sword through its back, all the way to the hilt.

We Ss'sik'chtokiwij bite through foreheads because it's softer than attempting to smash through the back, with that thick spine in the way...And this thing's spine would have definitely shattered my fangs.

I leaned around its neck, positioning my face near its temple as I opened my mouth...

Ripley stared. "Ernie, what the hell are you doing? Don't kiss the damn thing!"

When she noticed my inner mouth fangs, she shuddered. "Oh yeah. Never mind."

A bit like riding a rodeo bull. The monster kept trying to throw me, but I held on.

It used its tentacles to hurl me over its shoulders.

My fanciest fighting stunt to date, and i didn't even mean to do it that way:

As I came flying, up and over that hairy, horned head, I knew I had a split second to hit some region of its skull, so I lashed out, completely at random.

Upside down.

Directly through its crown.

Ripley almost got crushed to death as the thing slumped limp into the dirt. The crowd moaned at the loss of such a valiant fighter.

...But Grandmother hadn't eaten in awhile, so as I digested a gamy chunk of brain matter, she rushed up to the carcass and chowed down on the rest.

Ripley, it seems, had been waiting for an opportunity such as this.

Since the sword became dislodged, due to the toppling of our hairy enemy, she could pull it out with relative ease.

In a shocking display of raw physical strength, the woman raised the glowing blade and hacked Grandmother's foreleg off at the socket.

She swung again, and off came Grandma's arm.

The woman didn't even flinch when the acid blood splashed her face.

Unfortunately, at this point, Ripley's luck ran out.

Grandmother grabbed the woman by the shoulders. "You want a bitch?" She screamed. "I'll show you a bitch!"

Ripley stiffened as the black tip of Grandma's tail erupted from her torso.

"Ripley!" Newt screamed, straining at the end of her leash like a dog.

The woman coughed, spat up milky white coolant.

Ripley's blood, gushing from the wound: Also white.

An android!

"What!" Grandmother yelled. "This is some kind of trick!"

Ripley laughed, coughing up more coolant. Her last words, spoken in my language: "Fooled you."

The big Ss'sik'chtokiwij punched through Ripley's head with her mouth claw, then violently separated her upper torso from her lower in a misty white spray.

[0000]

Quacebs Book 2, Part 10

[0000]

The woman rushed her son into her car, the doors slamming thunderously as she sped away in an angry huff.

"So..." Camille asked. "What actually happened?"

I shook my head. "Long story. Let's talk about it in the house."

In the living room, I told her everything that happened. Quana snuggled close to me as the story progressed, wrapping her arm around me. After her previous outbursts, kinda had mixed feelings about that.

Camille frowned. "Randy and Matt have never gotten along. I just thought things would have changed by now."

Quana stared at me with an odd expression.

I just shrugged, like What?'

She offered me an upraised palm. "Matt...the ring?"

I stared at her in complete shock. "You actually want it back?"

Quana nodded.

My jaw dropped. "You're serious."

"Do I look like I'm not?"

I gulped, hurriedly digging out the ring. "I love you, Quana."

"Chikalat jeko. Sorry I didn't trust you."

I offered the silver band. "I should have you propose to me this time."

Quana grinned, snatching it back. "I didn't know you were so old fashioned!"

"Old fashioned!" Mom blurted.

Quana turned green. "On my planet, it's the traditional thing to do!"

I smirked. "The only problem is, it's your ring. What would you give me?"

"Oh, I could probably think of something..."

Someone knocked. Camille got up and answered the door.

I shuddered when I saw who it was. "What, did they forget something?"

Louise pushed Randy into the foyer with an iron grip on his arm. "My son wishes to make an apology for this entire dreadful evening!"

I stared at the two re-visitors.

Catching my gaze, the woman beckoned to me with impatience until I joined Mom at the doorway.

Louise cleared her throat, clutching Randy's shoulder like she intended to pull it off. "Tell him, Randall."

The boy sighed. "I made up the whole story about Matt abusing me."

Camille and Louise shook their heads in disbelief.

"What did I tell you about lying?" Louise scolded.

Randy shrugged. "You actually think I'll believe that my bed will catch on fire?"

Louise sighed.

Nobody said anything.

Having an apology was great, but I really didn't want to babysit Randy anymore, so I had to say something. "I did hit him a couple times."

The boy only scoffed. "Those were sissy hits. They wouldn't make a baby cry."

I glared at him.

"Anyway, sorry." Randy's eyes darted back and forth. "Matt and his girlfriend were actually pretty cool. It was kind of like Epcot Center over there. Oh, and I accidentally dropped my phone while crossing a street and a car ran over it."

Camille smiled. "So...your tour really wasn't so bad."

The boy frowned. "What tour?"

I shot Camille a pained expression. Even suggesting her spaceship ride would make Randy want to have one too.

"Never mind." Camille quickly changed the subject. "Well! Who'd like a drink?"

I asked for lemonade, but Quana...

"Do you have any vodka? I've heard good things about it."

I rubbed my face. As an alien, she wouldn't have known what's reasonable to ask for.

Camille furrowed her brow. "How about Budweiser?"

She shrugged. "Okay."

Louise gestured to the kitchen, giving Camille this look like she wanted to discuss something with her privately. They walked off together.

"You owe me," Randy hissed to me.

I frowned. "What do you mean, owe'?"

Quana put her hands on her hips. "What are we owing?"

"I want to play the big video game in the spaceship thing."

"That's not a video game."

"I don't care what you call it. I want to play it. And your child abusing boyfriend can set up the equipment if you want."

Quana shook her head. "You're going to wreck my only way to get back home."

"You have a car! Just drive home!"

"Randy, I don't live on this planet."

Randy rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You still owe me that game." He had this look like he knew the ship was real, and just wanted to play with the delicate equipment.

Quana groaned and shook her head.

The boy scampered into the living room.

The front door opened, and in came Dan, back from Men's Bible Study. "So...What did I miss?"

Me and Quana cast each other uncomfortable looks. "We'll talk about it later."

Shrugging, he stepped into the living room and put on the Western Channel.

Mom had a little old piano in the living room. Presently, the sounds of Beethoven's Für Elise rang from within its poorly tuned wires.

Quana spun around, staring at the small figure seated on the polished mahogany bench. "He can play the piano?"

"Um...somewhat?" I wished the boy would always be so well behaved. "Whatever he knows, it was probably coerced."

Camille and Louise returned from the kitchen, muttering in low tones about how talented the boy was.

Louise stood next to the boy, clutching a glass of wine. "I've been trying to get him to play another of Beethoven's, but, alas, he doesn't have the drive."

I rolled my eyes, figuring the boy had some sort of agenda for playing the piano at all.

"I think I liked the first part of that song the best," Quana said.

"You mean the part where he fudged the chords?"

"Fudged?"

"The rest of the song was beautiful, but he was just warming up in that first section."

Quana's face took on a green tint. "I see. So that's not...standard."

Louise gave me an annoyed grimace. "I should have known you'd marry someone like this."

Looking bored, Randy closed the lid on the piano keys and snatched up Dan's remote, flipping through channels.

"Hey! I was watching that!"

I gave Quana a weary look. "We should go."

She nodded. "Your family needs counseling."

"Tell me about it."

We said good night to Camille (and, somewhat begrudgingly) Louise and the kid, returning to the car.

Quana handed my keys back to me, adding some finality to her change of heart.

"Thanks." I gazed at Quana for a moment, then, as my stomach flip-flopped, I stared at the steering wheel. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know, Matt. What do you want to do?"

I leaned my head against the middle of the wheel, causing it to honk. I jerked my head back up. "I...I don't know. I feel like...we need help, but...Morgan is no psychologist. And plus it's getting late. I don't think she'd like us barging into her place at any old time of the day and night whenever we have a problem."

"Matt, I've done worse. I really have."

I stared at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "You have?"

Quana swallowed. "Before you came around, I kept having nightmares about perishing in Beptot, so I'd...visit her. Perhaps it would be better described as harassed.' The first few times, I would even beat on the door and scream and throw rocks at the windows until she let me in. I was that desperate. At any rate, she was very patient, considering the circumstances. We talked, I calmed down, and I was okay for awhile. She never solved my problem like you did, but it helped, just the same." She pulled a house key out of her purse. "She said her door is always open, regardless of how tired or annoyed she might me."

I groaned. "Quana, I can't presume upon your friend's friendship like that. It's not an emergency. We got the situation resolved pretty well, didn't we?"

Quana nodded. "I guess you're right. But you're forgetting that Abreyas only sleep every other night."

"How do I know that this is a good night?"

"If you're an Abreya, you can sense it. But that's okay, you're right. We can wait until tomorrow. We need a replacement guinea pig anyway."

"Yeah. I think maybe I was just tired or something anyway. Maybe I should get some rest." I scratched my head. "I guess...I'll spend another night at my apartment. Couches aren't exactly comfortable."

"My ship has beds."

"Uh..." I stammered. "I'm pretty sure that I'd eventually want to share yours by the end of the night."

She giggled, turning green.

"What's so funny?"

Quana frowned.

"Exactly. Too much temptation."

"Getting a little too optimistic, aren't we?"

"Are you saying you're still mad?"

She rolled her eyes. "Matt, this wasn't a very sexy evening. I'm pretty sure we'd just literally sleep. Plus, you can resist temptation. You've done it before."

"That's actually how you stop resisting temptation. It's easier to resist temptation if it's not in my presence...Plus, the other bed's not comfortable." I started up the car. "I'll take you home."

We rode in silence for a few blocks.

"You think it will be this difficult when we have children?"

"I hope not! I really hope not, Quana." I steered the car onto the freeway. "We've got a mess to clean up. You saw what he did to the place while I was babysitting. I should really help you get Supica back together."

"We don't need to fix everything. We can fix what needs fixing before we go, then repair the rest while we're traveling."

"I hope the ship can still fly."

"Don't worry about it. Unless it's something serious, we can have it taken care of when we get back to Pathilon." She paused. "Let me see if Dista has done anything."

She took out the communicator, jabbering in Wava for a moment. She stared at the screen. "Mepjar?"

"What is it?" I asked.

"Dista said she already fixed everything Randy damaged. Well, what she could fix with the tools we had..."

"Wow, that was quick!"

"We were gone awhile..."

"Cool." I took a right when the freeway branched off. "You know, Quana, the whole thing with Randy..."

"It's okay, Matt. I know."

"You don't know all of it." I took a deep breath. "Before I got adopted, I had a brother that was just like Randy. He...he used to scream when he didn't get what he wanted. He'd scream for the Nintendo, or to watch a show on TV. He'd scream like he was getting beaten...Then stepdad would come in the room and beat me. For doing nothing."

Quana gave me a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry."

We reached Quana's neighborhood. "Quana, I've never had a wrecked car impounded. Not sure how this will play out."

"Don't worry about it. Wurbsova will take care of my car stuff. She's the cosigner."

Someone had parked a blue pickup in front of Quana's house. The same pickup I'd seen a million times at my apartment. "What's Keith doing here?"

"Not sure. Homework?"

"Maybe."

We marched down to the ship, opening the hatch.

Someone had put a football game on screen, the volume pretty high. When we reached the top of the boarding ramp, we found Keith and Dista sitting on the Venus flytrap sofa, staring guiltily.

I eyed Keith's rumpled clothes and disheveled hair with suspicion. "I thought you went home."

Keith wiped his face. "I did, but, well, uh, Dista wanted me to come over and, help...fix the ship." He pointed in a vague direction.

The servant's gold midriff shirt with balloon sleeves had been positioned at an odd angle, pant legs bunched up around the knees like she'd gotten dressed in haste, probably when the hatch opened.

I rolled my eyes when I noticed the football event listing on the front of my friend's shirt, and the tag poking out the neck. I also noticed the ship didn't look that much different from the way it looked when I left. "I thought Dista said everything got fixed. How much did you get done?"

Keith swallowed. "Some."

After an awkward pause..."Actually I just came over here to study, and we got to talking, and..."

Dista nodded. "Yes. Talking."

I rubbed my face in frustration, wondering if I even wanted to know. "Whatever. Now that you've got all that talking out of your system, can you help us clean up this place?"

"Sure. Speaking of which, what happened to this place? It looks like a bomb hit it."

"I was babysitting earlier. Randy found Quana's laser gun. He tore the place up. Blew up our guinea pig too."

"Damn."

After changing clothes, Quana dug out some tools, showed us Earthlings how to use them, and we spent the next hour sticking panels and equipment back where it belonged. A couple times we had to climb up on handlebars or get a chair from another room to put up something.

Keith tossed aside an exploded monitor. "I find it hard to believe one kid could do all this damage."

Quana screwed down a loose button console...with a type of screwdriver I'd never seen before. "Your relative, Randy, is a bratwurst."

"A brat," I prompted.

Keith laughed. "That he is. That he is."

As I hammered down a panel, Quana tapped me with her tail. "What did you do with the Xugzam?"

"You saw me give the canister to Dista."

The servant nodded. "I locked it up, Geigy."

"Oh good."

"There's one thing I don't get," said Keith. "Why did you let the kid blow up everything to begin with? Doesn't your spaceship have some sort of child safety features or something?"

Quana frowned at him.

"Keith, you know how Camille's burglar alarm code is just 2-5-8 in a straight line?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, sometimes aliens put their button codes in a straight line, too."

Keith snickered. "An advanced extraterrestrial intelligence, far surpassing our own!' That's what they say in those movies, right?"

"Is it rude to say shut up' in this situation?" Quana asked me. "I am insulted, but I do not wish to fully offend."

I laughed. "Depends on the tone of voice."

Eventually, everything appeared to be fixed, all panels and loose objects put back in place. A few wires and circuit boards had been damaged, burned, or otherwise destroyed, but Quana said they didn't affect anything, so they could be replaced when we returned to Pathilon.

Keith looked at his watch. "Wow, midnight already!" He shook his head. "I should have been gone! I'm going to be so tired tomorrow."

I rubbed my eyes. "I should go, too. I should go home and try to get some sleep."

Quana nodded. "Still not picking up our sleep patterns, eh?"

"I guess not...Actually, I don't know if I can sleep. I just said I would try. I need to get some stuff over there anyway"

"Oh. Okay. Good night, Wusu butt."

I smacked my face. I really didn't want anyone to know about that nickname.

Keith chuckled. "Wusu butt?"

I turned a deep shade of red. "Shut up."

Quana chuckled. "Oh. A tone like that!"

"Yeah..." I gave Quana a hug, but she returned the gesture with a sloppy Abreya kiss.

By the time I got back to my apartment, it was already one o'clock.

Keith paused in the middle of brushing his teeth, calling from the bathroom. "Um...Matt? When are you going to pay your half of the rent?"

I frowned. Nobody talks about this kind of thing in science fiction movies. After spending so much money on school books, groceries for my last trip, and the engagement ring, I didn't have much left. "I...guess I could close out my bank account and pay you the rest later when I can, or something."

"What about your student loan?"

I swallowed. "I..."

"I know, I know. You're going away to space, so you're not worried about your credit, but I'm sure there's going to be some phone calls..."

I fidgeted nervously. "Uh..."

"You don't expect my parents to pay for it, do you?"

"No...Uh...just let the callers know I don't live there anymore. I kind of went over this with Quana and her friend at the college. I think we'll have it covered. I'm going to start a new job. I think I can probably sell something and send you some money."

"Forget about it. It's your credit. I'll deal with the apartment somehow."

"I," he stammered. "I...Were you and Dista doing...what I think you were doing?"

Keith shrugged. "Why?"

"I'm not going to tell you how to live your life, but don't you think this is, um, kinda immoral?"

"We're from two different planets. It's a gray area. The bible doesn't say anything about it. I mean, it's not bestiality, but we're not the same species, so it's not fornication, either."

"How do you know it's not fornication?"

"Matt, after what I've just seen, I really don't think it's possible for us to have kids, so what's the point in marrying? We were just...playing with the equipment and seeing what it does."

I cringed.

"You mean you never tried any of that with Quana?"

"Nooo."

"Look, Matt. In the unlikely event of her somehow getting pregnant with my seed, I promise I'll marry her. Hell will probably freeze over first."

Honestly, I'd pondered similar things before I'd proposed to Quana. Only my overactive conscience had made me conclude that marriage was necessary when romancing an extraterrestrial. "What if you get a disease?"

"That doesn't seem to be bothering you much...Even if you are planning to marry her first."

I shook my head.

"Matt. What's the first thing that happens when the alien and the human meet in all those abduction stories? They get naked, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "I thought you were the sports nut, and I was the geek."

"You must be rubbing off on me."

I sputtered, unable to formulate a proper response.

"Look, I don't get what you're making a fuss about. There's nothing biblically wrong with what I'm doing. If God judges me on this, I can just tell Him that His word didn't say anything about space aliens, so I didn't know any better."

I sighed in resignation. "All right. Do what you want. Forget I said anything. Look, would you mind probing her somewhere else? Like in the house?"

"Oooh!" Keith chuckled. "I guess I got told!" But he seemed cool about it.

He finished brushing and marched to the living room, pointing to a package on the sofa. "Found that at the door this afternoon."

I opened the brown package. Another one of those books talking about how Messianic Judaism was a cult. I threw it in the trash. "I wonder what would happen if I mailed her a Gaxea. I can't imagine what she'd think of my mutation, and my marriage...and my church..."

"She'll probably scream and hold a crystal over your head."

I chuckled. "It's going to be fun showing her. She doesn't believe anything I tell her. How is she going to believe this?"

"A little demonstration?"

I shuddered at the thought. "With all these fur pulling demonstrations, I'm going to end up bald."

Keith laughed.

I discovered I had some books in my room that would be of use on Pathilon, such as my Hebrew bible. I set them in a box, attempted to sleep, but found I could only toss and turn.

In between Abreya sleeping patterns, not having a comfortable place for my tail, and needing to use the restroom...

Speaking of which, I'll try to limit the disgusting details. Suffice to say, I had to sit down, rust orange is the new yellow, and after going to the bathroom, I had to change clothes immediately.

I tried to sleep again.

I only slept an hour before consciousness returned to me and I found myself staring at the number on my alarm clock. Now there's one invention I'll never have to worry about again.

I had a week before I could take my parents to meet Quana's. I tossed and turned, wondering what I'd do with all that time.

Since sleep seemed pointless, and I didn't want to clog the shower with my alien body hair, I got dressed in fresh clothes and watched the extended version of David Lynch's Dune.

Disturbed by itching, I again considered showering, but, you know, I had only one towel, a feeble hair drier, and nothing to prevent the fur from clogging the drain. For a moment, I considered driving to the self service pet shampooing business up the street, or calling the mobile pet grooming service, but then laughed off the idea as absurd.

Since I'd left my computer hooked up before my last trip, I checked my email.

About a million spam messages in my inbox. The junk filter...not so good, and then you had Amazon and all those irritating Facebook updates, including responses to comments on profile pictures I didn't recall replying to.

Keith and his online friends had sent me a few messages asking about my Honduras mission', showing me how far off course a message could be communicated.

I closed the browser, thinking Here's one thing I won't be missing.'

I tried sleeping again, but only ended up tossing restlessly and wondering what had transpired in the world while I'd been imprisoned on Pathilon. So I went on news sites and caught myself up on current events for a good hour...Of course, this progressed to wading through articles about the X-Men on Wikipedia.

"You're up early," Keith remarked as he sleepily wandered from his room.

I frowned at the clock.

"In case you're wondering, the Internet's working because I paid Spectrum. No need to thank me."

A touch resentful, are we? I thought. "Thanks...Keith, are we still cool? We still friends?"

He uttered a frustrated sigh. "Dude, you're family. It's just this alien shit...It's just...It's a lot. I'm sorry, just waking up..."

I'd used all my food supplies during my first trip to Pathilon. Keith let me have some of his egg and sausage Hot Pockets and a bowl of chocolate cereal I'd been craving.

The cereal proved to be a mistake. I ended up passing out in my chair.

I awoke at noon, sprawled on Keith's sofa.

I would have slept longer, had my communicator not gone off.

I staggered to my feet, stumbling after the source of the noise at the other end of the apartment.

I picked it up just as the caller hung up. It sounded like Quana.

Still disoriented, I mangled the button combination and found myself staring at Professor Morgan.

The female stared at me with her jaw hanging open. "You're jundepo!"

"Wuh?" Matt groaned.

"Yemikteb faacda daocum." Morgan laughed. "Enulo'h fexagta grunki. You're ten sheets to the wind. What did you have, espresso?"

I rubbed my bleary eyes. "Cocoa Puffs."

"Seriously? Cocoa Puffs! I had no idea you were so delicate!"

"Shut up."

Morgan grinned. "Here's my advice. Melt some crayons in a mixture of chicken broth, sauerkraut and pickle juice and drink it. That should clear your body of those toxins right away."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks. I guess."

"I'm guessing you want to talk to Quana, don't you?"

For a moment, I considered asking the woman to play nennop again. "Sorry. I'll talk with you later."

"Xocibuk con Ponai."

This time when I called Quana, I chose the right button combo.

Quana looked worried. "Where were you? I've been trying to call you all morning!"

I gave her a sheepish grin. "Sorry. I got...chocolate wasted."

She stared at me with suspicion, eyes narrowing. "Chocolate...wasted?"

"I got...cuckoo on Cocoa Puffs."

Another shocked facial expression. "So it does affect you!"

I chuckled. "Maybe?"

"I know just the thing. What you do is take chicken broth..."

"...And saeurkraut and drain cleaner and mix it together. Yeah, yeah. I heard it."

Quana frowned. "Morgan said to use drain cleaner?"

"No. I was being facetious."

"Look," she sighed. "Just try the chicken broth, pickles and crayons and come over. Let's take care of my totaled car today, all right?"

"Sure." I was just saying that. The closest thing I got when I hung up: A small shot of pickle juice, disgusting by itself.

Keith had already left for work, so I got in my car and took off for Quana's place. Lucky for me, I'd slept off the effects of my breakfast, so the only problem I encountered was ending up with a quarter tank of fuel when I arrived.

The first thing out of her mouth: "I found out what happened to my car. The impound lot auctioned it off. I need a ride so I can get documents proving I don't owe for towing and storage."

I blew a raspberry. "Guess I don't have anything better to do today...Your highness."

"That's the spirit."

We took care of everything regarding the smashed car. Paid some fees, gave them the title.

"Well," Quana groaned as she got into my car with the last bit of paperwork from the insurance company. "I would have liked to retrieve my possessions from my car, but I guess that got auctioned off or thrown away."

"I'm glad it's all over, at least. Lucky we didn't have to schedule any appointments for all this crap...what's next?"

Quana gave me a small smile. "Couple's counseling."

I sighed. "Seriously? I thought whatever conflict there between us had already been resolved. Doesn't everybody say that money is the biggest thing couples fight about? We just did some serious teamwork."

My fiancee only smirked and shook her head.

"We're relatively happy right now. Why do we have to go and reopen old wounds? Can't we just leave things alone for the time being? At least, until we have another crisis?"

"That's the human way. Leave an infected cut alone and slap a Band Aid over it."

"Yeah, but sometimes that actually works! That's what an immune system is for!"

"A relationship doesn't have an immune system."

"So, what, we're just supposed to keep licking each other's wounds every time we have a fight?"

"Only enough to prevent the wounds from becoming infected."

I scowled. "And we're going to be doing this for the rest of our life."

She locked eyes with me. "If you're not comfortable with that, you still have time to back out. I won't love you any less if you take that ring back."

...Honestly? At the moment, taking that ring back didn't seem that bad an idea. Of course, there's the church we started together, and I'm still madly in love with her...

"There's more to life than laying eggs. Maybe that's what Ponai has been telling me through all of these conflicts. Too often I get blinded by the veil of the flesh. Only now am I beginning to see that."

"Yeah." I had difficulty even making the sound emerge from my throat. I stared at the dashboard, at a loss for words.

"So what do you say?"

"I...need time to think." I shifted the gear into drive. "Just let me think for awhile. This is a hard decision. Let me see if I can figure out on the way over to Morgan's."

I don't think there could have ever been enough driving distance for me to come to a decision about something like that. Especially when people kept cutting me off, a woman nearly T-boned me at an intersection, and we ran into a construction zone. The distance between the insurance office and Morgan's hadn't been that great.

We arrived at Morgan's gate a little sooner than I wanted to.

"Have you decided yet?"

"Not since you last asked."

Quana took a deep breath. "You at least drove to Morgan's house. That's a good first step."

"Maybe..." I parked, but didn't go into the house.

My fiancee rolled her eyes, annoying me with her sighing.

By the time I got out and approached the professor's door, she opened it before I could even knock.

The female wore a pair of silky red pajamas that left her tail dangling out the backside. "Hello, Matt! Still Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs?"

My face flushed red. "No."

"At least you're not a mean drunk."

I gave her a pained expression. "Well..." I just let the word hang there.

The professor's smile faded. "You know where the room is." And she beckoned me in with her tail.

We followed her back to the soundproof room, the professor closing the door behind us.

We're getting to the part where I began this story now, so I'll skip over some details.

Morgan waved her tail at a pair of chaise lounges. "Have a seat."

When I obeyed, Morgan pulled an Ottoman up next to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Matt, have you had problems with substance abuse?"

I laughed nervously. "No." I let the smile drop. "But...I was still mean."

"I caught him beating up his little cousin," Quana blurted.

"Shh!" Morgan hissed.

I frowned. "Did she tell you what happened?"

Morgan nodded. "I want to hear it in your own words...Matt, do you know the meaning of bri-nennop?"

I stared in puzzlement. "I met a guy named Nennop when I dined with Quana's family. Quana's brought up the subject before. What's he have to do with it?

Morgan locked eyes with me through hornrim spectacles. "Bri-nennop. As in plural. Specially trained eunuch psychologists that live with the family."

I stared at her. "That...definitely does sound...unique."

"No, Matt. I said eunuch. They take the messy sexual apparatus out of the equation. Cloning and special chemicals. Keeps them focused and objective."

"Hmmm. I guess that explains why there are so many guys named Nennop in the Gaxea. I thought that was just a common name, or the title of the Quaceb messiah, like Kipom." I smacked my head. "Wonderful counselor! I'm such an idiot!"

Quana's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Of course! It's so obvious!" She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "That doesn't mean we don't need one. Even good human Christians need licensed therapists."

"Y-yes." I'd been staring at Morgan's body. I've mentioned this earlier. I quickly focused my attention on the woman's face. "And you think I need one of those...nennop things?"

"They're people, Matt. Not things. (Pardon me, force of habit) Abreyas. They have feelings."

Quana smiled at me.

"Is this...person absolutely necessary?"

Quana's smile dropped. "Matt, you're terrible with children. If we have an egg together..."

"Correction: I'm terrible with my aunt's children."

Quana crossed her arms. "Matt, that's just an excuse."

"Just an excuse?" I scoffed. "Have you never watched The Omen? Problem Child?"

Quana just rolled her eyes.

"Village of the Damned?"

"Matt, there's a reason we have nennops."

I swallowed. "Fine. I...guess I should have expected things to get a little...eunuch after you said yes."

She rubbed her face in embarrassment.

"So...where is this nennop guy anyway?"

Morgan leaned forward in her chair. "You're looking at her."

"Wait, you—?"

"No, we've just been roleplaying until we get you a real one. That's what that first exercise was all about. Shouldn't be too difficult, considering how you're practically a eunuch yourself..."

"Oh...kay? So...what are we doing, exactly? The same thing as before?"

Morgan put one hand on her hip. "More or less. Since I don't have the luxury of spending all day with you, tell me about your week...starting with the moment she consented to...this extremely impractical proposal."

"I suck at stories."

"Matt, that doesn't matter. A nennop's job is to make you more open with your feelings, especially with...those you care about."

You know what happens after this I already told you the story.

Anyway, I said my piece, and then, after a pause, Morgan said, "You need help separating your anger from child discipline. It's a shame we couldn't incorporate Randy into this session."

"Yeah." I rolled my eyes. "A real shame."

Morgan pulled the chairs closer together, then brought out a stone pipe.

"This is a replica of a prehistoric American Indian peace pipe. Although we will not be polluting the air or the insides of this pipe with actual tobacco, we will be using it as a symbol of peace, and an indicator of whose turn it is to talk, similar to what they did in the Lord of the Flies. Matt, as an Earthling, I figured you would appreciate this."

I frowned. This whole gesture seemed rather condescending.

"You...do not seem pleased."

I thought about it a moment. I didn't want to admit it, but the visual prop of a peace pipe did seem like a good idea. "It's fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," I stammered. "I...probably need this."

"Good." She handed the pipe to Quana.