Page 13 of Alien’s Love Child

CHAPTER 13

JESSE

T he neon signs blur together as I walk through the crowded streets. Another silver-haired man catches my eye, but it's just another Kaleidian tourist. My heart sinks for the hundredth time this week.

"You need to stop doing this to yourself," Rena's voice crackles through my PerComm. "Come back to the ship."

"I can't. Not yet." The words catch in my throat. "He has to be out there somewhere."

"Jesse..."

"Don't. Please." I switch off the PerComm, letting the city noise wash over me instead.

A couple laughs as they pass, the man's deep chuckle hitting me like a punch to the gut. For a split second, it sounds just like him. I spin around, but they're already disappearing into the crowd.

The rain starts, a light drizzle that makes the neon reflect off the wet pavement. My boots splash through a puddle as I duck under an awning. This is just like where we kissed, pressed against the wall, his hands tangled in my hair. The memory burns.

A flash of blue skin in my peripheral vision makes my breath catch. I push off the wall, shoving past people, muttering apologies. But when I reach the corner, there's no one there who could be him.

"Excuse me, miss?" A street vendor waves me over. "You look like you could use some tea."

"Thanks, but I'm not-" The words die as I spot someone tall with silver hair across the street, walking away. My heart races. "Sorry, I have to-"

I dart between hovercars, ignoring the angry honks. But when I reach the other side, he's gone. Like smoke. Like he was never there at all.

My PerComm buzzes again. This time it's Taluk.

"Captain, we need you back here. There's a potential job."

I lean against a storefront, feeling dizzy while watching the crowds pass by. Every other person seems to have his height, his build, his coloring. But none of them are him.

"I'll be there soon," I say. Reluctantly, with a pit of nausea sitting in my stomach, I let my feet move forward towards the port. Somehow, I know this will be the last time.

The port authority car sits outside my ship like an unwelcome guest that's overstayed its welcome. My boots clang against the ramp as I march up, not bothering to hide my irritation.

Inside, Officer Marrow stands in my cargo hold, datapad in hand. Again.

"You know, if you're going to keep visiting, I should start charging rent."

He looks up, his cybernetic eye whirring. "Captain."

"Three weeks. You've torn apart my ship twelve times. My crew's eating protein paste while you lot play detective." I cross my arms. "What exactly are you hoping to find on search thirteen?"

"We have probable cause-"

"Had. Past tense. Your probable cause went up in smoke with that warehouse." My voice catches on the last word. "Along with..."

Marrow's organic eye softens. "I understand this has been difficult-"

"No, you don't understand. You're bleeding us dry. My accounts are frozen, my reputation's shot, and you've found exactly nothing because there is nothing to find."

"The data-"

"If this doctor or scientist or whatever uploaded anything to my systems, your tech team would have found it by now. Instead, you're standing here, fishing for something that doesn't exist."

Marrow sighs, lowering his datapad. "You're right."

"I'm- what?"

"We've exhausted all reasonable avenues of investigation. Without concrete evidence, we can't justify holding you here any longer." He taps his screen. "I'm officially closing the case. Your accounts will be unfrozen within twenty hours."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. You're free to go, Captain. But I suggest you don't come back." He pauses at the cargo bay door.

The words hit like a physical blow, but I keep my face neutral until he's gone.

Taluk's red scales catch the dim cargo bay light as he approaches, datapad clutched in his hands. "Captain, I might have something."

"Not now, Taluk." My fingers press against my temples.

"It's a good one. Contact I found here wants specialized cargo moved to Gur. Far from here, far from..." He trails off, his dark eyes darting to where Officer Marrow just stood.

"Gur?" The word catches in my throat. That's halfway across the Athenaverse. "How much?"

"Enough to refuel three times over and still have plenty left." His scales ripple with excitement. "I can handle the details. You won't have to-"

"Fine." The word comes out sharper than intended. "Just... make it happen."

His mouth opens, closes, opens again. "Really?"

"You've earned it." My hand lands on his shoulder. "Don't make me regret this."

He practically bounces as he heads to the comm room, already tapping at his datapad. I drag myself up to the cockpit where Rena sits, her boots propped on the console as she stares out at the starport.

"Heard Marrow finally gave up," she says without turning.

I sink into the co-pilot's seat. "Yeah."

"Good riddance."

"Is it?" The words tumble out before I can stop them. "At least while they were searching, there was a chance they'd find something. Some clue about what happened to-"

"Jesse." Rena's voice is gentle but firm. "He's gone."

"I know." The tears I've been holding back all day threaten to spill. "I know that. I just... I can't..."

Rena's arms wrap around me, and I finally let go. The sobs wrack my body as she holds me, not saying anything, just being there like she has been since this whole nightmare started.

"Taluk found us a job," I manage between breaths. "Transporting cargo to Gur."

"That's good. We need the distance." She pulls back, wiping my cheeks with her thumb. "And you need to stop looking for ghosts."

Rena pulls away, settling back into her pilot's chair. "I just don't get it, Jess. You knew him for what, three weeks?"

My fingers trace the edge of the console, following the worn grooves. "Two and a half."

"And he lied to us the entire time." She crosses her arms. "For all we know, everything was an act."

The memory of his lips on mine in that rain-soaked alley floods back. The way his hands trembled when he pulled me close. How his breath caught when I whispered his name.

"It wasn't an act." The words come out barely above a whisper. "There was something there. Something real. Like we were always meant to..."

"Oh honey." Rena's voice softens. "I get it. Remember when I told you about Kex? That mechanic from my Academy days?"

"The one with the sleeve tattoos?"

"Yeah. Thought he was my soulmate after two dates. Turned out he was selling test answers to first-years." She leans forward. "Sometimes the heart sees what it wants to see."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. She means well, but she doesn't understand. This wasn't some teenage crush or hormone-driven attraction. The connection between Davin and me had felt fundamental, like gravity or the laws of physics. Something ancient and inevitable.

"You're right," I lie, forcing a smile. "I'm being ridiculous."

Rena squeezes my hand. "Time and distance. That's all you need."

I squeeze back, swallowing the truth that burns in my throat. Distance won't matter. Time won't heal this. How do you explain to someone that losing him feels like losing a part of yourself you never knew was missing until you found it?

The metallic thunk of crates hitting the cargo hold floor echoes through the ship. Taluk's scales glisten with sweat as he hefts another box labeled "Premium Canned Goods - Gur Distribution."

My fingers twitch toward the crate's seal. Just one peek...

"Something wrong with the manifest?" Paraxan's gravelly voice makes me jump.

"No, just..." The room spins slightly. "Making sure everything's secure."

"I can double-check the straps," Taluk offers, his dark eyes studying me.

"That's not-" The cargo hold tilts. I grab the nearest support beam. "I mean, yes. Please do."

Paraxan's fur bristles. "You look unwell, Captain."

"I'm fine." The words come out sharper than intended. The memory of Xander's hidden data files burns in my mind, along with the weeks of interrogations that followed.

"Perhaps some of my special tea?" Paraxan suggests.

My stomach lurches at the thought of his fur-seasoned brew. "Thanks, but I think I just need to lie down for a bit."

"We've got this covered," Taluk says, already securing another crate. "Right, Paraxan?"

The Odex nods, whiskers twitching. "Rest well, Captain."

I make it to my quarters before the dizziness overwhelms me. The room that used to feel like home now seems too big, too empty. I collapse onto my bunk, pressing my face into the pillow that still smells faintly of him.

My PerComm chirps with a message from Rena: "Pre-flight checks in two hours. Need anything?"

I tap back a quick "no" and shut my eyes against the spinning ceiling, trying not to think about what might be in those crates, or about silver hair and blue skin, or about anything at all.

My stomach lurches as the ship makes another minor course correction. I've been spacesick before, but this feels different. Deeper. Like my insides are trying to become my outsides.

"You look like death warmed over," Rena says from the pilot's seat. "And you've been looking progressively worse since we left Glimner two weeks ago."

I swallow hard against another wave of nausea. "Thanks for that stunning observation."

"No, I mean it. Maybe you picked something up there? That rain-soaked alley wasn't exactly sanitary."

The mention of the alley sends my mind spinning back to that kiss, to his hands, to that night when...

My eyes snap wide. "What's the date?"

"What?"

"The date, Rena. What's today's date?"

She checks her PerComm. "The fifteenth. Why-"

I'm already stumbling out of my chair before she finishes, my heart thundering in my chest. The corridor tilts as I make my way to the supply closet, counting backwards in my head.

The medkit's exactly where it should be, third shelf from the bottom. My trembling fingers fumble with the latch until it springs open. There, nestled between bandages and pain patches, sits the small white diagnostic stick.

One drop of blood. That's all it needs.

The prick barely registers through the adrenaline flooding my system. Three seconds feel like three years as the indicator light blinks.

Then it turns blue.

Positive.

The stick clatters to the floor as my knees give out. I press my hand against my still-flat stomach, where a tiny piece of him is growing inside me.

"Jesse?" Rena calls from down the hall. "You okay?"

I can't answer. Can't breathe. Can't process what this means.

A baby. His baby. Our baby.