Assistant for the Alien Prince by Tammy Walsh
Zai
After a large dinnerwhich the Bal family insisted we have, Jessica took me to one side.
“Why didn’t you tell me the story we made up was true?” she hissed.
“What difference does it make?”
“It would have made selling it a whole lot easier, for one!”
“How would it? I was the one telling the story. I felt a lot more comfortable telling a true story than a false one.”
Jessica glowered at me.
“You really worked the land here?”
“Yes.”
“And went into town and helped all those other people, the poor and needy?”
“Of course.”
Jessica made a rasping noise with her lips.
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
I looked at her squarely.
“I’m telling you now, aren’t I? Even better—I’m introducing you to them. By the way, us whispering like this is considered very disrespectful in their culture.”
It wasn’t true, but Jessica didn’t know that.
“Whereas kissing them on the lips and touching them all over is completely normal?” she growled.
She caught herself in mid-rant and her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.
She straightened up as the family rushed back to the table carrying Fari’s latest and greatest creation: some kind of cake.
“Actually,” I said, leaning forward and whispering hastily into Jessica’s ear, “kissing and touching is normal here.”
Jessica rolled her eyes.
“Sureit is.”
That of course, was when Rer, the father of the family, kissed me on the lips and placed his hands on my face and stomach.
He couldn’t have timed it better if he tried.
Jessica sat back on her chair and was silent for the rest of the evening, though she perked up a little when the little boy asked if she wanted to play a board game.
I watched as Jessica played with the little boy.
She gave him her full attention and smiled every time he made a good move.
She didn’t seem to understand the rules of the game no matter how many times he explained them to her.
I couldn’t blame her.
I never got the hang of them either.
“She’s a real keeper,” Rer said, sitting on the toadstool beside me.
“Who? Jessica?” I said. “She’s… a friend.”
Rer sniffed—which in their culture carried the same meaning as a knowing wink—and leaned closer.
“I know a friend when I see one and she’s much more than that to you. Did I ever tell you how I met Fari?”
I shook my head.
“It was during the annual mating season. As you know, the Snii mate once a year at the Great Spawning. Everyone finds a mate because if there aren’t enough males or females to go around, we automatically change sex until everyone is paired up. You might not think it to look at me but I was a pretty little female at one point in my life. Fari often complains I didn’t keep more of my feminine attributes.”
“What if you didn’t choose Fari? What if you ended up with a different Snii?”
“That’s not possible. You see, if I’d chosen another female, or one chose me, I never would have changed. We were destined to be together. We don’t change sex just because we feel like it. It’s because the heavens decided we’re meant to be together.”
I sensed he was trying to make a deep philosophical point but it flew over my head.
“The Ev’vat can’t change sex,” I said.
“No, but you can make up your mind about who you choose to be with, can’t you?”
Ordinarily yes, I thought, but I was no ordinary Ev’vat.
I was the Crown Prince and there were certain… expectations.
One of the best things about being at Bal’s farm was that the family didn’t know who I was, that I didn’t have to act up or pretend to be something I wasn’t.
I got to be me for the first time in my life.
Jessica’s communicator beeped.
“Excuse me,” she said to the little boy. “I have to check this.”
She glanced at the message and hastily scanned it.
My insides turned to knots as her eyes passed over it.
She scrolled back and checked it a second and then a third time, as was her habit.
It had to be the DNA test results.
I felt sick to my stomach about how they would return.
Jessica’s eyes rose to mine and she shook her head.
Shaking her head like that could have meant anything.
Negative, that the child wasn’t mine, or negative, that it was bad news.
What gave her meaning away, what made the meaning clear, were the tears shimmering in her eyes.
She blinked and they rolled down her cheeks.
And she smiled.
They were tears of relief, not anger or sadness.
The results had come back and they’d come back negative.
The child wasn’t mine.
I wasn’t the father.
The Pairing Ceremony would go ahead.
