Interview with the Alien
[FLASH FICTION] A naïve space academy graduate encounters aliens for the first time and finds they’re not so different from us after all...
INT. SPACE STATION CAFETERIA
‘Mind if I sit here?’
‘Be my guest. You’re new here, right? Please, try some Grashnarr. It’s a delicacy on my home planet.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, spilling some of my kaffii—a bitter, brown stimulant in every other way also indistinguishable from coffee—as I placed my tray down. ‘Sorry, but aren’t you human too?’
‘Ha! Human! No offence meant, of course. I’m pure Gilgak, born and bred. Well, not born—hatched. But you get the idea.’
‘Gilgak? Really?’
‘Oh yeah, see this tattoo?’ he said, turning his head to the side.
‘It’s very intricate,’ I said, scooping up as little of the squirming Grashnarr as I could without it conceivably causing offence. ‘Forgive me, I don’t mean to press the issue, it’s just that you look exactly like a human. Do you perhaps merely “identify” as—’
‘I have four hearts.’
‘Gosh. I only have one. What do all of your other hearts do?’
‘Well, the first one pumps blood. And all the other hearts do too, I suppose.’ He waved a hand in front of his face. ‘But that’s not important. What’s important is what we do with our hearts after we die. We remove them and store them in jars for the afterlife. Cool, right?’
‘Definitely. Reminds me of the ancient Egyptians back on my planet.’
‘Never heard of them,’ he said and shrugged. ‘Say, I don’t mean to be too forward, but you’d be considered quite the attractive male specimen back on my planet. A real hearts-breaker.’
‘I’m not—,’ I started before recalling my diplomacy training, ‘I mean, that’s very kind of you to say. Thank you.’
‘Welcome,’ he said and winked at me. ‘You haven’t told me your name, by the way. They do have those back on Earth, don’t they? Manners too?’
Stammering out an apology, I told the alien my name and designation and offered my hand to shake.
‘I’d put that away if I were you unless you mean to indicate we should fight until first blood…?’
‘Goodness, no!’ I said, retracting my hand.
‘Thought as much. I’m Qteve.’
‘Steve… Is that short for anything?’
‘Nope. Make sure to spell it with a “Q” though. Do you want any more Grashnarr or can I…?’
‘No, no, go ahead. Sorry, um, I think my universal translator is on the fritz. Did you just say your name was “Steve”?’
‘Universal translator troubles, ay? That’s annoying. Don’t worry about it though, we speak English on Gilgak.’
I gaped at him and dropped my spoon, splattering Grashnarr onto the red shirt of my uniform.
‘You humans sure are clumsy. Say, you don’t happen to have any Platinum on you, do you?’
‘Platinum?’
‘Sorry, Latinum. Usually, I keep it in the same pocket as my Applied Phlebotinum… Ah, found some!’
‘You know,’ I said with a small laugh, ‘I could never figure out why there’s a precious metal-based currency of all things. I mean, if we can create food in the replicators who’s to say we can’t create absolutely anything…’ I trailed off, embarrassed. Questions like these are why I didn’t have any friends back at the Academy.
Qvete squinted at me. ‘You sure are a lot weirder than that other human, the one down in Engineering.’
‘Oh, you mean Spork? I think he’s Magmarian.’
‘Huh. Could have sworn he was a human.’
‘No, if you look carefully,’ I said, brushing my hair back, ‘The tops of his ears are a little bit pointer.’
‘Ah, my mistake. Your species look very much alike, ya gotta admit.’ Qteve stood up and gave my shoulder a pat. ‘Anyway, nice meeting you. I’ve got to go; there are some Pleasurian floozies waiting for me on Holodeck 9.’ He waggled his eyebrows.
‘Pleasurian?’
‘Oh yeah, their slightly green skin really does it for me. You take care of yourself, kid. And watch out for those Klirengi; they’re really offensive racial stereotypes.’
‘I— I think my universal translator’s playing up again.’
With apologies to Gene Roddenberry and his costume budget-friendly humanoid creations!
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