Page 74 of Exiles on Earth

“What… what about them?” I put my thumb over my shoulder at the knot of men recovering. Ilia’s scales flicker to light pink and back to red, still looking at me.

A woman says something and bursts into laughter. Shara explains, “She said, “Why would we be interested in mere men right now?””

I plant my feet. “But… it’s your Mating Games. Some of them have been waiting years for this opportunity.”

“Very true,” Shara murmurs. “We should give them the courtesy.”

The woman says something in return, and Shara chuckles. “Of course you can resume your experiments straight after. Your temporal field won’t be lonely for long.”

Temporal field? Are these women all scientists? I gulp. Yeah, they’re all super gorgeous, hyper intelligent bosses. No wonder Ilia wants someone of his own kind, and I’m stealing all the attention away from him.

“I think before we see the rooms, we should do the Mating Games,” I tell Shara firmly.

The corners of Shara’s eyes crease as she smiles. “Very well. The interview portion.” She claps her hands and says something, then repeats it for me. “Males to the conference room! Females, please take your seats.”

The blonde squeaks.

“You can make another temporal field, Mhari,” Sharasoothes her compatriot, linking arms with me to lead me into the building. And I kind of regret my choice a little, because maybe I could run a brush through my hair before we go inside this grand structure.

The inside is built like a bud, many layers of crystalline walls opening one after the other. The petals stop at different levels, each with a couch and a light beaming upwards.

Shara sits on a petal close to the ground floor and beckons me to the seat next to her; as I lower myself, a light flashes up with small animated balls scrolling down it, some kind of hologram.

“If you’ll permit me, I’ll order you a drink.” Shara touches a hovering ball on her own screen.

Women perch on the petals around us. They peer at devices like they’re doing vital work, and possibly they are. One even comes in with a set of test tubes, like she had to be dragged out of her lab.

Few glance down at the men milling at the stage at the base, but they settle, talking softly to one another and ordering drinks from the light-screen built into their seats. I catch many glances my way.

I push my nails into my palms. I really hope I haven’t distracted them from Ilia’s big moment! He’s across the room with the other men, standing off to one side of them, the closest one to me. He glances at all the exits, the one behind and the ones further behind the flower-petals of the room, from where more women file in with a murmur of light conversation. The guys mill, many still getting their breath back after the run. I’m not surprised, that was a long sprint, and now they have to wait at the bottom of this atrium for whatever’s next.

“Here,” Shara says, handing me a set of big, clunky headphones in blue-green glass. A new woman sits next to her, bright silver glasses perched on her nose. “My friend here took the nanites and made a version suitable for inorganic materials.”

“Thanks.” Whatever that means. I pull them on, and suddenly the swell of conversation makes sense to me, as if I’d only needed to pay more attention.

Behind me, a pair are talking: “Is that a… human?”

“Yes! Isn’t she fascinating?”

“Absolutely. Something else that’s fascinating is your presentation on the splice and conjoining factors–have you published it yet?”

“No, I’m nervous!”

“You’ll be absolutely fine!”

These ladies are getting stuff done. I find myself nodding along. The women are definitely different from the impression Ilia gave me, but then again, he didn’t know what the women’s occupations were.

The lady wearing glasses touches my wrist. “Are they functioning?”

“Yes!”

She chuckles. “Good. I’ll work on making them more streamlined and more unobtrusive. Welcome, visitor.”

“Thanks. My name is Ellen. What’s yours, if that’s not a rude question?”

“No, not a rude question. I am Imaya.” She nods to the stage. “Have you been to a Mating Games before?”

“Uh, no, we don’t do these where I’m from.”