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Barbarian Lover(43)

By:Ruby Dixon


My face feels white hot with embarrassment. It never occurred to me that someone might be able to hear us. “He decided I’m his mate,” I say, moving closer to the table. “And I decided he was right.”

“If you’re happy, I’m happy,” Harlow says, and runs her hand over a bunch of small pieces of copper-colored metal.

“I am happy,” I tell her, and it is true. Other than the nagging worry about the Little Green Men returning, I’m incredibly happy. My translator’s gone, and I have…Aehako. Big, flirty Aehako who treats me like I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Really, it’s the other way around. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I think even if I were offered a ride home back to earth tomorrow, I’d decline, just so I could stay with my big alien mate.

Maybe that makes me crazy. But what did I have back on earth? No one that cared about me, an entry-level job in finance, and a mountain of student debt. Here I have an entire tribe of people, and Aehako.

“Let me know if you see a silvery-looking cross-shaped piece,” Harlow says, picking through the bits. “About the size of your pinky.”

I nod and start at the other end of the table. My fingers brush over the different kinds of metals, and there seem to be hundreds of pieces here. Harlow’s set herself up with a daunting task…and I notice she hasn’t had any help until now. “Have you seen Haeden?”

Harlow snorts. “He’s guarding the entrance. I think it’s just an excuse to get some alone time. He’s not that good with people.”

“I noticed.” Aehako mentioned to me that Haeden has a sad past. I guess he can’t really move past that. I find a cross-shaped piece and offer it to Harlow. “This it?”

“Yup,” she says, plucking it out of my hand and taking it to another table. “Let me solder this bad boy on and we can move forward.”



• • •





The time with Harlow passes surprisingly fast. There’s a schematic projected on one of the walls, and if it flickers every now and then, it’s still better than consulting a paper version. Harlow’s a genius with the metal parts, piecing things together and soldering, drilling, and basically making me feel like a useless hack. To pass the time, we talk about our old life back on earth. Harlow’s dad ran a car garage and fixit shop in Minnesota, but passed away last year. No mother in the picture, and she’d recently sold the business and wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. Turns out that isn’t an issue anymore, I suppose.

“The ironic thing?” she tells me. “I wanted to travel. I guess now I got my wish, right?”

I manage a wan smile at that.

We talk about foods that we miss, and things that we lack here – like regular shampoo and even porcelain plates. Instead of getting morose, though, Harlow grows thoughtful. “I’m sure we can bring our knowledge to the tribe and maybe improve things. And we can scavenge around here. Tiffany said she was good with makeup and hair stuff back home, so maybe she could make us soap.”

I like that Harlow doesn’t dwell on the past. Instead, she’s looking ahead to the future, to how we can improve our situation here versus mourning about what we’ve lost. It’s a great attitude.

When we take a break, we both decide to get the language dump from the computer. We take turns and Harlow goes first, and I have to admit, it’s pretty scary when she slumps and goes unconscious after the laser-beam hits her right in the eye. She’s awake a few minutes later, and I hand her the waterskin she brought. She sips it, rubs her forehead, and gives me a rueful look. “I guess it could be worse. They could speak several languages, right?”

I laugh at her words, but it makes me think about the Little Green Men. Should I learn that one, too? Just in case? I won’t be able to speak it, but it’ll be handy to know.

When it’s my turn, I call out, “Computer, can I learn more than one language at once?”

“I can insert up to three languages into your memory at once,” the computer tells me. “Which languages would you like to download?”

“The sakh language,” I tell it, the computer’s name for Aehako’s race. “And…” I pause, because I don’t know the name of the race for the Little Green Men. “Um…”

“What are you thinking?” Harlow asks me, curious. When I explain to her my idea, she nods. “Maybe if we narrow it down to sentient races in or around this planet?”

“Good idea.” I’ll need to narrow it down a bit more. I think for a moment, and then clear my throat. “Computer? How many language-speakers are there on this planet?”