Star Side

Chapter 29

Stellar date (Earth Time): 02-17-2914

The alien, who had seemed on the cusp of death, made a remarkable recovery over the next two days.

Thus, when I came in bearing more foodstuffs that he'd proven to be able to stomach, he was sitting on his haunches, tail curled around his feet, all perked up like a big dog. He even grinned a mouth full of sharp teeth as our eyes met.

"Well, hello," I smiled back. I had a suspicion he'd learned that expression, because I was certain the faint purrs were his version of a smile. "Got you some lunch."

I handed the plates to him, which he took carefully so that our fingers wouldn't so much as graze. Yes, I'd caught on to the touch thing. I imagined touch was a big deal to these aliens, though for all I knew it was just a him thing.

He'd finally left the pile of blankets I'd used to make him a bed, so while he ate I went over to pick them up. Being sick on your bed for two weeks had to mean a much needed laundry day. You could smell it as soon as you walked through the door, all brimstone and old apples.

I'd only gotten one blanket hung over my arms when he made what I could only call a weird mix of offended squawk and a whine. I glanced over to see him staring at me, eyebrows arched in unmistakable dismay and ears low.

"I'm just washing them," I said, though I knew he didn't understand. It'd only take an hour at most.

Despite the low whine, he didn't stop me as I gathered up as many blankets as I could and waddled back out with them to the nearest laundry chute.

When I came back the food was only half-way gone and he was looking droopier than usual.

"What's up?" I imagined projecting curiosity at him. It was one of the few 'projections' I knew got through to him and that he understood.

In response I got a cool rub of general sadness across my brain. I think disappointment was in there as well.

I rolled my eyes. "You really need to learn my language, dude. I know you can talk."

I looked around for something to start with, but figured our own bodies were the best start.

He flinched with a little cackle of spines when I sat down in front of him and waited for him to meet my eye.

"Hand," I lifted a hand. Then I pointed at one of his. "Hand."

He blinked. But then his ears perked back up to their usual resting height.

"Ah'd." He said, lifting his own hand.

"Yeah, I figured the consonants were easiest for you," I muttered, then repeated 'hand' again, putting emphasis on the 'h' and 'n' sounds.

It only took him two more tries before he said a perfect 'hand.' Considering how much larger his ears were compared to mine and all the levels of chirps, trills, and other noises he could make, I imagined he had a much more precise hearing than me. Perhaps that would help us in this endeavor.

I sat going through all the names of various body parts that we shared until I was sure he had memorized them.

In the pause as I tried to find something else to name, he pointed at his tail.

"Flissshh," he said. It was more hiss than anything, but it reminded me of the sound of a tail across a stone floor.

"Flissshh," I repeated with ease. "Tail." I pointed at it. "Tail."

He seemed mildly surprised that I had a name for it already, but took it with grace.

"Huooff." This time he pointed to his wings. Again, the word sounded oddly reminiscent of the sound wings might make flapping through the air.