Page 43 of My Alien Angel (Supernova Casanovas #6)

Jaime

A small, unfamiliar ship waits patiently in the hangar.

It’s in better shape than Null’s ship, Deviation, though not by much.

The crew assured me it will get me where I need to go but my brother isn’t convinced.

Right now, he’s grilling the sweet, slender Karetelan pilot over the safety of the shuttle.

Having said my goodbyes to the rest of the crew already, I wait outside the shuttle, my hoverchair slowly rotating as I trace idle circles over the control panel.

A sudden muscle cramp has my fists clenching and my face wincing from the pain but I force myself to carry on.

Moving whichever part of my body is willing to move while I can has become my mantra over the years.

As if simple exercises could stop whatever is stealing my strength from me, piece by piece.

None of the doctors on Earth could ever explain exactly why my muscles were breaking down, only that it was genetic.

Now I’m set to visit an alien medical ship to see if they can help me.

I’m trying to be realistic about my chances but I can’t help but dream.

Not of walking, I’m not crazy enough to assume they can rebuild me from the inside out, but perhaps they can find a way to stop me from losing more muscle?

Maybe I could keep control of my hands? That’s not too much to ask for, is it?

“They’re sending you away,” someone behind me says monotonously.

I would have jumped from fright if I could.

Instead, my fingers merely slip off the control panel, bringing the hoverchair to a sudden skidding stop.

Regaining control, I turn the chair around, now face to face with the mysterious alien who brought Fin to the Supernova a few days ago and then helped break Omni out of prison.

It’s difficult to read Null’s expressions as he doesn’t show many emotions, but if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say he’s mildly interested.

That’s new. I’ve tried talking to him a few times, but he always ignores me as if I don’t exist. The crew, with Fin as the sole exception, all seem to dislike him immensely for being a Genixarian, and he’s not doing anything to improve their opinion.

“Hi,” I greet with a smile. “Sorry, you startled me. I don’t think we’ve been introduced before. I’m Jaime.” He stares at my outstretched hand, blinking slowly. “Oh, right,” I laugh. “I keep forgetting aliens don’t shake hands.”

Before I can retract it, Null grabs it with surprising gentleness, and shakes it. It’s not quite as slow and intentional as a human handshake, it’s more like he’s trying to shake invisible water from our hands, but it’s the thought that counts.

Since it doesn’t seem like he’s going to say anything and I’m determined to be nice, I continue the one-sided conversation.

“You’re Null, right? It’s an interesting name.

Or is it a nickname?” From what I’ve read on GalNet, his species have more serial number-like names, like Gamma 2-A, which sounds like a difficult thing to use in casual conversation.

“It’s the name I’ve been given,” he says gruffly. “You’re different from the other humans.” He gestures at my hoverchair. “Is that why they’re sending you away?”

“Yes and no.” His question is direct, but I’m not offended.

I’ve been called worse than “different”.

“They’re sending me away to get medical treatment, not getting rid of me altogether.

Wait, your people aren’t like those head-spike guys who believe that ‘defectives’ should be terminated, right?

” I’m generally friendly with everyone, but it was difficult to be nice to those assholes.

“Yes and no,” he echoes my last response, staring off into space as if trapped in a bad memory.

“Well, I happen to be a great judge of character and you seem nice. To answer your question, I am different, yes, but that’s not always a bad thing.

” Of course, it’s hardly a good thing when being “different” means you’re disabled for life, but I have a feeling this conversation isn’t really about me anymore.

“It is for my people. We are all the same.”

Tilting my head in contemplation, I try to come up with an answer that is culturally sensitive.

“That sounds…a little dull?” Well, fuck.

Way to go with the not being offensive, Jaime!

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to belittle your culture or anything.

I just can’t imagine Earth if humans were all the same.

Diversity is the root of progress. Plus, it’s fun being different.

You get to discover your unique strengths and interests. There’s no one else quite like you.”

“Strengths?” Null sounds skeptical. “What strength could one have that would outweigh not being the same as everyone else? Being…deformed?”

He’s not looking at me at all as he’s talking, making me all the more certain he’s talking about himself and not me.

Knowing I don’t have much time before my space taxi departs, I reply, “Null, everyone is valuable. Deformed or not.” I didn’t notice anything different about him, but this is also the first conversation I’m having with him.

He’s probably different from his people in a way that I can’t understand.

“You helped Fin when you didn’t have to.

You could have just left her behind. Apparently, you’re known for sticking to your word and never dealing with slavers.

You are a good person. Your people might consider that a deviation but in my book, it makes you better than them, not worse.

I would also bet you’re funnier than the rest of your people combined. ”

He glares at me. “That is hardly a strength.”

“You’d be surprised how often it comes in handy.

My point is, some people just stick out in a crowd no matter how hard they try to fit in.

Look at me. I’m a gay cripple sentenced to a premature death.

Do I waste my days wishing I were normal?

Well, maybe in the case of that premature death part, but other than that?

I relish being unique. There are things I can do that no one else can.

The same goes for you. Just stop looking at yourself like something’s wrong that ought to be fixed and find what makes you you. ”

“Hmm,” is all Null grunts in response, but I can see my words have hit their target. Now it’s up to him how he deals with it.

“Jaime!” Steven yells, emerging from the space taxi with a slightly rattled pilot in tow. Glaring at Null, who makes himself scarce, Steven waves me over. “The shuttle’s ready. What were you doing talking to that creep? I don’t like it.”

Curling a finger, I beckon him closer. When he walks over, I repeat the motion, and when he’s bent over close enough for me to whisper into his ear, I smack him upside his head.

“Hey!” he cries out. “What was that for?”

“I don’t know, let’s think.” I pretend to think, scratching my chin with my slow to respond fingers.

“Perhaps it was for being an insensitive asshole? I never thought that my brother, of all people, would turn into a racist, speciesist, whatever, piece of shit! You have no reason to hate Null, so how about you try being a little nicer to him?”

Steven runs a hand over his military buzz cut. “Lyri told me about what his people are usually up to. Did you know this was their ship? That they kidnapped Astra and Nikolai and—”

“Was he on board? Was he a part of it? Or are we just assigning collective blame like collective idiots?”

“They’re clones, Jaime. Well, not clones, but almost. They’re all the same.”

Ah, so that’s what Null meant by being different. “He’s not like them, Steven, so how about you pull your head out of your ass and show some empathy? I know you’re hiding it deep, deep, down inside. Or should I just stay here instead to make sure Null doesn’t get bullied?”

“You’re not staying! You need to go and have those alien doctors look at you. Fine,” he grumbles when I continue to stare expectantly. “I’ll stop being a dick to him.”

“And?”

Steven groans. “You’re impossible. What do you want from me? To take him out for a few beers? He doesn’t want that any more than I do.”

“Fine,” I sigh. Steven’s probably not wrong on that one. “Just don’t be a dick to him. Or anyone.”

“You know I’m the older brother, right? I should be the one teaching you manners.”

“Yet, here we are,” I snort. “So, is the ship ready? Hi,” I wave to the pilot, “I’m Jaime.”

He timidly waves back with his six-fingered hand. “Hello. I’m Pon. Like I told your brother, I’ve been working for AstroLift for four years now and I’ve never had an accident. I will safely get you to the Salvere. I will also provide you with all of the necessary assistance during the journey.”

Right, because we’re flying to the other end of the galaxy and it will take several days to get there.

Alien smart appliances, household fixtures and gadgets make taking care of myself easier even with my handicap, and my hoverchair is the most awesome invention ever.

Still, there are things I can’t do alone anymore.

“Thank you, Pon. I’m sure it will all work out great. ”

Steven grunts, unconvinced, but he doesn’t protest. Instead, he pulls me into a tight hug. “I’ll miss you. Send messages through that secure channel D’Aakh set up, okay? And don’t trust anyone. Fuck, I should go with you.”

“Steven, I’ll be fine. They only allow children to go accompanied, remember? I haven’t been a child for a long time.”

“Nah. You’re still my baby brother. Just be safe, please. I’d hate to have to run across the galaxy to rescue you. And get better. And—”

“I love you, Steven,” I interrupt my big, badass, Navy SEAL brother when it looks like he’s about to start crying. “I’ll be fine. Be nice!”

Glaring at the pilot, Steven threatens, “Take good care of my brother or I’ll hunt you down and kill you.”

“Y-yes, s-sir,” Pon stammers, hastily retreating into the shuttle.

“Sorry about him,” I try to comfort the frightened pilot. “He doesn’t mean it.” He does but the poor Karetelan doesn’t need to know that.

For a space flight, the journey is surprisingly boring.

We spend most of it in hyperspace, which is quite underwhelming compared to movies and TV shows, since there’s just darkness surrounding us with an occasional star streaking by.

Fortunately, Pon is a pleasant, if a little timid, companion with a vast collection of various entertainment vids he wastes no time introducing me to.

An incessant beeping tears us away from a particularly cheesy drama about a mixed Syndoran-Karetelan couple and a Lakhartan who has turned evil, which is a huge deal, although I have no idea why. Pon jumps up with wide eyes, rushing to the cockpit. “Fuck.”

It startles me because it’s the first time I’ve heard him curse.

Guiding my hoverchair to the cockpit, I stare through the front viewscreens, mouth agape.

We’re no longer in hyperspace. We’re hovering over a huge planet, a gas giant surrounded by a large ring and several moons.

It would be a beautiful sight if it weren’t for more and more controls in the cockpit beginning to flash orange.

The ship lurches sideways, nearly knocking me out of the hoverchair.

“Strap in,” Pon orders, his voice tense. Ho points at a row of seats in the back of the cockpit. “Hurry. We’re going down.”

“We’re what now?!” As I scramble to move from the hoverchair into one of the fixed seats and figure out the security belts, the gas giant on the viewing screen grows larger.

That’s bad, right? We can’t survive on a gas giant.

Then I realize Pon is steering us toward one of the moons that is probably about the size of Earth.

“It should have atmosphere,” Pon states. “No civilization, though. Hold on.”

I cling to the straps as we hurtle toward the surface, thinking that this is just my rotten luck. I finally have a chance to fix my condition and what does the universe do? Slam-dunks me onto a random, uninhabited planet. Moon. Whatever. Fucking fuck.