Earth Station 23
The temperature systems hummed.
I tapped my knuckles against my palm, trying to think, but getting nothing but tightness in my chest and throat.
Stinging in my eyes.
Therrus had told me once that tears, fascinatingly, were the universal expression of grief… Human, Civaran, Klibian…
That didn’t help right now.
Therrus wanted to hate the cold.
Thick snow spilled over the tops of his snow boots, soaking his socks and numbing his shins and feet. The frigid air assaulted him, stinging his hidden scales and causing his holographically projected skin to turn bright red. He took a deep breath, the wintry Connecticut chill sharp in his lungs
For Therrus, another day began with total irritation.
He was already like a volcano, ready to explode even from the smallest microscopic provocation. Such permanent irritation had long become habitual for him, because the Earth Initiative demanded he send weekly reports.
He hated preparing these reports, so he did not do so.
“Ag shame skat, they’re full. These trips are very popular you know.” The motherly receptionist patted Therrus’ arm. “I can sign you up for the next trip, though. It’s on…” She flipped through a large book. “May 4th. Next Tuesday.”
Therrus fumbled with his glasses, trying to make sense of her heavy accent. Shame? Had
The woman at the front desk eyed Therrus, then pointed at his sunglasses. “It might be bright outside, but don’t expect much sunshine from old Bulver. He doesn’t like reporters, Mr. James.”
Therrus, reveling in the ring of his adopted Earth name, replied with a bow. “Fear not, madam. I am only here to help.”
Therrus picked flowers with Harmony Star in a field near their cottages.
“Luke! Come look at this!” Harmony called.
His heart panged every time she used his alias, but she couldn’t know his real identity. His true reptilian humanoid form would scare her, no matter how much she loved animals.
“You, too?”
Therrus ignored the she-human who spoke although he couldn’t help noting her voice was young-sounding, wry, and almost laughing, but with an edge of something else.
Something what? Didn’t concern him. The number one rule for Civarans visiting Earth: do not under any circumstances engage with the humans.
Announcing the winners of the “Multiversal: Dorian Gray” October 2025 flash fiction contest!
Read it now
“Agent Therrus, are you insinuating your cover has been compromised?”
I opened my mouth but swiftly shut it again. Is that what I’m trying to say?
The hologram of my Earthan Initiative contact lifted an impatient brow. Intergalactic calls were tricky as well as costly. When initiated, it was better to keep them “short and sweet” as humans said.
Therrus tried to quiet his heavy breathing, back pressed to the door, hands bound before him. He attempted, again, to pull apart the bindings. Stars, these are tight. How do they have access to such advanced restraints? He’d been led to believe that monitoring these particular humans would be simple.
Read it now
“Get it right this time, Therrus.” Loriq’s green skin shimmers as he stabs a finger at the main console of the Civaran starship. “Three relocations in two months?”
“Word of honor.” I raise one six-fingered hand in an Earthling salute. “No more interacting with primitive humans.”
Luke’s six-fingered hand trembled as he poured foamed milk with precision into the inky black liquid—each muscle begging to be the first to perform the long-awaited act. He had only read about making an espresso macchiato in his Human Studies courses, but now he was here on Earth, hiding his Civaran hand beneath caffeine-resistant gloves,
Read it now
Recent Comments