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“I’m leading this?” I feel like my eyebrows are going to pop up off my head! Me?

Hope snorts. “Uh, Macie, that lady there is obviously you.” I hold it up again. It does resemble me - brown hair in a messy bun, hazel eyes, definitely shorter than the other figures. The rest are accurate to, from Skye’s blond hair to Hope’s freckles, from Quinn’s narrow eyes to Judd’s scruffy chin. They’ve been watching us more closely than we’ve been watching them.

“Besides, the notes were your idea,” Skye says. “You interpreted them. You instructed my drawings.”

“Oh wow, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take over!” I really didn’t mean to be bossy, dammit, I just wanted to be useful.

But Quinn pats my shoulder. “Don’t apologize. You’re doing a good job. I vote yes, too.”

“Same, yes,” Skye says. “Yes to arming ourselves well, and yes to meeting the aliens.” She pales a little, but she nods at me.

Only Judd continues to hesitate. I know he must feel responsible for our safety, being a soldier and all. “What else do you think we can do to protect ourselves?” I ask him.

He frowns. “Can we communicate that we only want to meet one of them?”

“I think we can draw that,” I say, nodding at Skye. “Illustrate one at the riverbed. And then put the group back in the grasses.”

“Show us doing the same,” he says, “But I’ll be right in the trees here. I’ll convince Dean to back us up, too. And I want us all in bulletproof vests.”

“Okay?” I ask, looking around at the group. They all nod. “Okay.”

?????

Well, I guess it’s up to me to meet the alien. We communicated the time by drawing the positions of the sun in the sky. We sketched the aliens waiting in the grass. And now, it’s time. I’m wearing a bulletproof vest that’s too hot and too heavy. I’ve got one of the larger assault rifles, a gun that I’ve done the least amount of training with, but looks the most intimidating. I’ll have to count on my team behind me if something goes wrong. If the alien tries to bite my head off. No big deal.

Unfortunately, it’s beginning to rain. The suns are dim behind a curtain of dark clouds that are growing darker by the minute. “Maybe we should bail,” Hope says, looking at the sky. “Try again tomorrow.”

“We’ll make it quick,” I say. My heart is racing so fast, I imagine I can hear it. I don’t know if I’ll be able to work up the nerve to do this again. “I’ll pass him our new note and shake his hand or whatever and get out of there.” I’m wearing gloves. Another attempt at safety. I feel beyond foolish, but I can’t quit now.

I step out from between the trees and onto the dustier ground. The trees on the opposite side rustle, and I freeze. Breathe. I have to remind myself to breathe. We’ve been exchanging what are basically classroom notes with these guys. Maps and stick figures. We’re friends. I chant it to myself as I step up to our cone of branches. We’re friends. We are definitely friends.

The alien takes a step out into the open. I take a long moment to focus on him - thanks to the gray and blue camouflage patterns on his skin and the bluish shadows amongst the leaves, he blends right in. Like a leopard in the jungle. But once I lock my eyes on him... holy hell, is he huge. I try to keep the shock off of my face, but my eyes are as wide as they can go. I grip my gun tighter, clutching it to my chest like a shield.

I’m mostly certain this is the same guy I nearly crashed into in the tall grass. At least he’s fashioned some clothing since then. A kilt, of sorts, made of pleats of dark leather. He also wears a flat electronic device strapped to his upper arm, like a large smartphone or a small tablet. Otherwise he’s completely bare. And unarmed. Not that a seven foot tall slab of muscle would need a weapon to harm us.

He makes a sound and steps closer. I swallow. Muscles. So many muscles. He could wring the life out of me before I could blink. And yet, he’s stepping so cautiously. Like he’s nervous himself?

Thunder rolls above us. We both flinch and glance towards the sky. He makes a sound, a rolling series of B’s and a short bark.

“I don’t understand you,” I say. I hold up our note. We’ve drawn a picture of an alien and one of us making an exchange - one plant for another. Hopefully, they get the idea that maybe we can exchange our resources? Trade for things? The astronauts have been too busy and overwhelmed to care about our forest adventures, but if I bring back a piece of alien technology, it’ll blow their minds.

The thunder rumbles again, louder this time. I wave the paper. “Come on, mister, uh, alien. We don’t like the rain very much.”

Finally, he steps up to the cone. He bows, spreading his arms wide.

And yeah, he definitely has a tail. It sweeps lazily back and forth behind him, blue and gray like the rest of him. The tip of it ends in what looks like the head of a mace, white and smooth like the horns on his head.

Peeling my eyes from that weapon of a tail, I note that his horns seem shinier now. Cleaner. I wonder if he polished them before coming here. I pretend to cough as I try to hold back a giggle. Here we were arming ourselves like we were going into battle, and he was back at his camp primping and grooming.

My poorly hidden laugh makes him grin.

I grin back. There’s something boyishly handsome about him, now that we’re up close and, well, I guess I’m not very afraid anymore. I am in awe, though. I can’t believe this is real. He gestures at me and he makes another sound.

We trained for a lot of things back on earth, but communicating with intelligent life was not one of those things. I’m just going to have to wing it. I put a hand to my chest and say, “Macie.”

He makes a rumbling sound. “May. See.”

“Macie,” I grin, and I bow the same way he did.


Tags: Roxy Nash Science Fiction