Page 1 of Two Aliens Are Better Than One (Bodyguards in Space #1)
Prologue
L ucky Clarke to Relzo Ossean
December 22, 2056
Lucky: What’s up? I haven’t heard from you in weeks.
January 1, 2056
Lucky: Happy Earth New Year!
Lucky: I mean, I know you’re Zangrel and don’t celebrate that, but we used to throw a party, remember?
Lucky: My mom sent me some Earth booze since she couldn’t be with me to celebrate. It’s tasty!
Lucky: How have you been, anyway?
Lucky: Are you ignoring me, or stuck on another undercover assignment?
Lucky: Shit, should I have said undercover assignment in your texts? Like, what if that just popped up in your phone while criminals were standing right there?
Lucky: Dammit, I just said the words criminals shouldn’t see again.
Lucky: Sorry, I’ll stop texting now. I think this vodka stuff hits harder than suspected. Expected?
Lucky: Please don’t die.
Lucky: How to delete a crazy text message thread before the sender sees it?
Lucky: How to delete text messages you already sent?
Lucky: How to find out if a spy-type person is dead.
Lucky: Dammit, give me answers!
Lucky: Shit, is this thing recording everything I say and sending it as a text?
Lucky: Goddamn iPhone 82.
January 2, 2056
Lucky: Yeah, so I was using voice commands while drunk last night, and uh… Some of those were meant for the search engine.
Lucky: I’d be embarrassed, but you know me better than anyone, so I’m sure you’re not surprised.
January 3, 2056
Lucky: Hope you’re not dead.
January 4, 2056
Lucky: If you’re alive, start typing a message so I see those little dots.
Lucky: No dots.
January 5, 2056
Lucky: I googled your name, no obituaries.
Lucky: Would you have an obituary if I’d gotten you killed by mentioning the word undercover in your texts?
Lucky: I just asked a search engine if spies get obituaries, results unclear.
January 6, 2056
Lucky: I just had a thought. What if you’re dead but the agency doesn’t know you’re dead?
Lucky: At least read the messages. They all just say “delivered”, which makes you seem more dead.
Lucky: Right, I should stop texting now. It’s causing me some anxiety.
January 9, 2056
Lucky: Please answer. You’re my best friend in the entire universe. You can’t die.
January 12, 2056
Lucky: Why isn’t there a command that deletes deranged text message threads?
January 17, 2056
Relzo: I’m not dead. That was an interesting panic spiral, though.
Lucky: Your job makes me nervous, and I haven’t heard from you for ages!
Relzo: Sorry. Just finished up an assignment. I didn’t have my personal communicator with me. Because people text me messages asking if I’m undercover.
Relzo: By the way, hi.
Lucky: Hi.
Relzo : You’re my best friend in the entire universe, too.
Lucky: Aw. Love you, bestie. Catch the bad guys?
Relzo: Yep! But I don’t want to talk about it.
Lucky: Rough?
Relzo: Awful. And I missed you. Tell me good news. How about those post-doc fellowships you were applying for? How’s that going?
Lucky: Oh! I forgot to tell you, I guess. Sucks that we have reached this level of adult friendship, the one where we can’t remember what we’ve told each other.
Relzo: Too busy searching for ways to delete your New Year’s Eve drunken texts?
Lucky: Yeeeahhhh. I’ll never live that down.
Relzo: I saved a screenshot.
Lucky: The fuck you did.
Lucky: Anyway, I was accepted into the fellowship at the biology lab on the Chokreini Space Station. They found these multi-cellular organisms living inside the rocks of an asteroid. It’s groundbreaking research into the link between all the related species in the galaxy.
Relzo: Wow, congrats. You must be smart as fuck to get that fellowship. The Chokreini take brainiac to a whole new level.
Lucky: I know, right? Anyway, it’s super interesting. But my boss is a little psycho.
Relzo: You started already?
Lucky: It started in December. You gonna be anywhere near Chokri for work?
Relzo: Don’t think so. I’m going undercover again. Can’t give you the details of the assignment, but I popped on here and saw your messages and figured I’d better reply before heading out.
Lucky: You suck.
Relzo: I know. Love you.
Lucky: Love you, too. Don’t get killed.
Relzo: I won’t.