Chapter 18: Aisha & Quinton

AISHA

Aisha’s brain was starting to hurt—in a good way!—but it was hurting nonetheless. Slowly, she eased off the helmet and put it down. She took a drink of water from the cylinder that they’d left on the bench in front of her.

She stared at the mirror ahead. Was there someone watching? She started to drag her hair across her face before stopping herself.

“How have you been finding it?”

Aisha jumped. She’d forgotten all about the other girl. Chloe had taken off her helmet too and was watching her. Her hair was flattened.

She looked as tired as Aisha felt. Chloe rubbed at her temples with a grimace.

“O-okay,” Aisha replied. “Good.”

Chloe looked awkward as she brushed her fingers through her hair. Her cheeks turned pink.

“And—and how are you with…”

“…Quinton.”

“Quinton,” Chloe repeated.

This time, Aisha did pull her hair in front of her face as she felt her own cheeks flush. “G-good. You?”

Chloe looked down at her bench. Her lips twisted, and her pink cheeks burned red.

“Have you…have you…done anything yet?”

Aisha’s heart skipped a beat. “W-what do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“We—we’ve hugged.”

“That’s all?” Chloe raised her eyebrows. “Not even kissed?”

Aisha felt her cheeks flush hotter. She lowered her eyes. “A-a little.” She remembered it now. How could she have forgotten? It had been both terrifying and wonderful.

She went to touch her mouth, then stopped herself. Chloe looked relieved. “Good. I just thought…” She released a breath. “Everyone’s doing it. Remember them in the shuttle?”

Aisha swallowed. Her throat was dry. She’d seen it too—their changes. Particularly Juan—his eyes. He had a Zibon eye! What did it mean?

They’d spoken about “bonding.” They’d spoken about reading their minds. “W-what’s h-happening?” Though she had a suspicion. A startling, impossible suspicion.

How couldn’t she after what she’d seen? Chloe gripped the edge of the bench. “Did you see her?”

“Who?”

“The Black woman in the hospital.”

Aisha swallowed. “Alexis…yeah.” How could she not have? The woman had stopped to say hello, and all Aisha did was look up at her in awe.

“She has white hair now,” Chloe said. “They’re all changing.” There was a shake in her voice.

“But h-how?”

“It must have something to do with—with…having sex?” She met Aisha’s gaze. “What do you think?”

It was exactly what she was thinking. “I—I don’t know.”

She reached up to touch her throat. It suddenly felt tight. Her skin prickled with goosebumps as her body turned hot and cold.

She didn’t know what to make of it. She didn’t know what to feel about it. Quinton. Sex. Bonding.

What would she become? “How old are you?” Chloe suddenly said.

Aisha’s eyes snapped back to her. “Twenty-three. You?”

“Twenty-one.”

They both fell silent. Aisha pulled her hair across her face, knowing exactly where her questions were heading.

“Are you…are you going to do it?”

Aisha hunched over. Her pulse was pounding in her throat. “I—I haven’t thought about it.”

“You haven’t thought about it? You don’t like him?”

Aisha shrugged. “D—Do you?”

Chloe tightened her grip on the bench. “I don’t know. I think so. But I’m…” She licked her lips. “…I’m scared. Are you scared?”

Biting her lip, Aisha shrugged.

“Have you…have you ever done it?” Chloe asked.

“No.” Aisha’s voice was a croak. “Have you?”

Chloe shook her head. She opened her mouth, about to say something, then closed it again.

Aisha nodded at her helmet. “We—we should g—go back to learning.”

Chloe looked at her almost pleadingly. Again, it seemed like she was about to say something. Then she lowered her eyes and turned away.

She picked up her helmet. Aisha could see a fine trembling in her fingers, much like her own fingers as she, too, picked up her helmet.

By the end of the lesson, Aisha’s brain had never felt so full. She rubbed her eyes and gazed up at Quinton, who was standing in front of her bench with his hands folded in front of him.

He was smiling. Aisha returned a quivering smile. “How are you?” he asked.

“I’m okay. Y—you look better.” He looked too good. ~So~ handsome. Her heart fluttered.

“I’ve had a few hours’ sleep.”

Aisha nodded, then lowered her eyes. She could feel Chloe watching her. She could feel Quinton watching her.

And what about the mirror? Was ~everybody~ watching her? Had they listened to their conversation? She felt her cheeks turn hot.

“Are you ready?” he said.

With a nod, Aisha stood. She looked up as the door opened. It was Chloe’s alien. He strode over, nodding at Quinton, his piercing yellow eyes passing over Aisha.

Aisha watched as Chloe stood. She was pale, her eyes bright in her face. “Aisha?”

Aisha turned. Quinton was holding out his hand. Aisha took it. She glanced once more at Chloe as they exited onto the corridor.

They walked in silence, Quinton’s hand gentle but firm around hers. Aisha kept her eyes to the floor.

“Something on your mind?” he said.

Aisha looked up with a start. She swallowed. “No,” she said. She looked down again.

They reached their room. While Quinton ordered dinner, Aisha went to the bathroom.

After using the toilet, she looked at herself as she washed her hands. It had been a while since she’d properly looked at herself—so many things happening, so many worries and fears.

It hadn’t been a priority. But after Chloe’s talk, she was looking at herself now—like she always used to back on Earth.

Aisha’s stomach sank as she reached up to touch the slumped half of her face. How could someone as beautiful as Quinton want someone like her? ~Bonding. He wants to bond with me.~

She frowned. But what did that even mean? ~Sex. He wants sex.~

~You are the chosen.~

Her fingers fell away from her face as she continued to stare at her reflection. And those aliens—those aliens in the hospital wanted to “bond” with her.

They’d spoken the word too. They’d spoken about semen—actual ~semen~. She hadn’t told Chloe about it because she, herself, couldn’t explain what it meant.

She looked over her shoulder, as though she could see him through the door. He was waiting. He was waiting for ~her~—like no other man had.

She was shivering as she limped over to the door. She paused, listening to what he might be doing—but all was quiet.

Taking a breath, she opened the door.

QUINTON

She looked pale and nervous, but Quinton didn’t say anything as she came over. He noticed her hand was trembling as she pulled out her chair and sat down.

She was having difficulty looking at him, but that wasn’t unusual. At least she wasn’t pulling her hair across her face.

“You’ll like it,” he told her as she looked down at her meal. “It’s one of my favorites.”

They ate together. Quinton watched her surreptitiously as she bent over her plate. She only managed half before she stopped.

“You don’t like it?” he asked.

“I’m—I’m not hungry.”

Quinton frowned. “You need to eat.”

She didn’t respond.

Quinton put his fork down and folded his hands in his lap. “Tell me what’s on your mind. We can speak properly now. Ask me anything.”

Slowly, she looked up. Her dark eyes were shining. “Th-those men…they-they s-s-s-s…”

Looking away, she shook her head, frustrated.

She was nervous. Quinton knew her speech always got worse when she was.

“The men who took you,” he said. He clasped his hands tightly in his lap.

She nodded. “They—they…b-bonding. What is bonding?”

Quinton hid the disappointment from his face. ~Ask me anything~—but not that. Not ~yet~. It was too early to talk about it. They weren’t close enough yet. He forced back a sigh. What could he do?

“It is what happens when we fall in love.”

Aisha raised her eyebrows.

“When we—when we make physical love, we form what’s called a bond. It’s an attachment at the cellular level where we cannot be separated.”

“Is that—is that what’s ha-happening to the others?”

“Yes.”

“But—but they’re…~different~.”

“Yes. And you will be different, most likely. As will I. It doesn’t always happen, but it very often does. I may take on some of your characteristics, and you may take on some of mine.”

“Why?”

He smiled. “A big question that continues to remain unanswered. It’s a mystery we do not fully understand and probably never will.”

She looked down at her meal. “Does it—does it hurt?”

“No,” he said immediately.

Quinton supposed it wasn’t ~quite~ the truth. Stages one and two were known to be emotionally painful, but it was too hard to explain. Even those few male Zibons lucky enough to partner with female Zibons found it hard to describe.

As she continued to gaze down at her meal, he asked, “What are you thinking?”

His heart was beating a little too fast. He could feel his hands starting to sweat. What if she was afraid? Worse—what if she was disgusted or angry? What would he do then? He swallowed.

“Y-you say you might take on m-my characteristics.”

He nodded. “That’s right.”

Her eyes were shining as she touched the affected side of her face. “B-b-b-but…what ab-about m-my-my-my…?”

Quinton raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t really thought about potentially acquiring her injury. He tried to study her face, but she looked away, allowing her hair to fall in front of it. It surprised him that she should think of it. It was ~astonishing~ that her thoughts should be about him rather than herself.

“What about it?” he said.

She jerked her eyes up. “You—you m-might take it.”

“Perhaps.” He nodded. “It’s possible.”

“But—but—you—you—”

Quinton frowned, leaning back in his seat. “But you, what? It doesn’t matter. You’re my match. Once we’re bonded, nothing like that will matter.”

She was staring at him, her lips parted. Her eyes were glistening brightly. She turned her head, but not before Quinton saw the tear coursing down her cheek. Her shoulders started to shudder. She gasped, then choked, then dropped her face into her shaking hands.

Quinton leapt up and went over. Surprisingly, his own hands were trembling as he gripped her shoulders. She jerked at his touch, then turned. Then she stood, staggering as the tears dripped from her hair. Quinton grabbed her to steady her. She grabbed onto him, pulling herself into his chest.

Surprised, Quinton held her tightly as she pressed her face into his shoulder. They stood together as she wept, shaking in his arms. Her body was warm and soft as Quinton rubbed her back.

After a while, the sobbing eased. Gently, he rocked her from side to side.

Slowly, she looked up. Smiling, Quinton touched her cheek. He leaned in—and then they were kissing each other. He couldn’t believe it. It was actually happening. She was uncertain and reserved, but Quinton guided her carefully. Pressing his lips a little harder against hers, he gently parted her lips with his tongue. She stiffened but kissed him back.

After a short while, she pulled away with a sigh, then smiled up at him, her lips pink and swollen.

“Are you all right?” he said. Her tears had dried, but her eyes remained red and puffy. Somehow, it made her look even more beautiful.

She nodded.

Quinton pressed his forehead against hers.