Hey readers! This is part two of a larger series, and probably won't make much sense without reading the first part. There's a lot of exposition in this chapter, but there's a little 'action' in it too. Be patient and you will be rewarded! There's a whole lot more to come.
"Get up," Lace said. It felt like about fifteen minutes after I'd fallen asleep, right up until she threw the curtains open and sunrise stabbed into my eyes.
"Ow," Justine complained, pulling the sheets over her head.
I squinted, looking at the athletic woman. She was wearing yoga pants and a sports bra that showed off her solid build. She wasn't bodybuilder ripped, or anything, but she spent as much time lifting weights as she did running and it showed. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a bun, and sweat beaded her forehead.
"Is it ten already?" I asked groggily. I hadn't set an alarm. A stab of pain through my head reminded me that I hadn't gotten any water last night, either. Justine had ridden me to an incredible mutual climax, and we'd both followed it closely with sleep.
"Not even close," Lace said grimly. "Not quite eight, but Kate's been up talking to that thing for a while."
"Let her talk," Justine moaned. "What's wrong with that?"
"Plenty," Lace said. I thought I saw her roll her eyes. "Come on, Evan's headed our way. Get out of bed."
Justine peered out from beneath the edge of the covers. "Put a shirt on."
Lace snorted, smiling despite herself. "
You
put a shirt on."
She left, closing the door behind her. Justine lifted the covers, looking down at both of us naked beneath them. "Oops."
Her little unabashed grin made me laugh, which made her laugh in turn, until both of us were gasping for breath and wiping tears from our eyes.
"Come on," I said at last. "Lace was pretty impatient."
Justine complained, but she got up as I did, stretching in the sunlight in a way that I found very intriguing.
"Go on," she said as she caught me staring. She said it with a smile. "You wanted to go, let's go."
"I'm starting to change my mind," I growled, stepping back towards her and the bed.
Justine stood, flowing up off the bed into my arms and meeting my lips with hers. Her breath was truly awful, just as I'm sure mine was, but I didn't care. We kissed, passionately, bare bodies pressed hard together in the light of morning.
"Put that away," she said, running her fingers over my rising erection. "Naughty boy."
I snorted, but dressed. Justine continued to distract me, bending over enticingly to grab her underwear. If I hadn't seen her peeking up, watching to see my reaction, I might have thought it was accidental.
"Come on," she said, throwing on a clean shirt. She'd skipped a bra, which she could just about get away with, but she'd also chosen a small, tight pair of shorts to wear.
"Should you dress more seriously? I mean... for something this important?"
Justine's expression didn't change, but I still felt the mood drop a little bit. I immediately regretted bringing her mind back to the flower. Lace could do that well enough. It probably would have been fine for me to bring it up once we were out there in the living room. But for a moment, there in her room, I hadn't been anything but her boyfriend. I hadn't been a part of the weirdness. And I had the strangest sinking feeling that I'd broken some delightful illusion that couldn't be repaired.
"It'll be fine," she said after a moment. She smiled, and it didn't seem forced, but it was different than it had been a moment ago. Less relaxed, maybe. "Everyone's seen me in weekend clothes before, and I can't see any reason the alien robot would care."
I shrugged. It felt vaguely wrong, but I wasn't going to argue about it. I didn't have anything but yesterday's clothes, myself. Wasn't first contact supposed to be made by astronauts, or people in white lab coats, or politicians in suits? Certainly not by hungover college kids in sweatpants.
We were the last ones up. Kate was sitting on the odd armchair next to the TV -- the HDMI cable was running out from behind it and over to the coffee table. After a moment, I realized it had actually been ziptied to the metal flower. The plug on the end wasn't touching anything, but I wondered how much of an obstacle that really was for a high-tech device like that.
Kate herself looked terrible. There were deep bags under her eyes, and an entire empty coffeepot sitting next to the flower. She'd never changed her clothes, and her auburn hair had somehow gotten messier overnight. But there was a glow to her freckled face nonetheless. It was a hard expression to name. The closest I can come is saying that she looked
exultant.
Lace had thrown on a loose workout tee, and was leaning against the wall beside the couch. Rosemary was sitting there, as far from Kate as she could get, and her face was tense with emotion. At the other end of the couch was Evan, looking way more cheery than I would have expected. He smiled when he saw me, waggling his eyebrows. "Have a good night?"
I grunted, and elbowed him over to make room. He laughed and handed me a mug of coffee, earning instant forgiveness for his mockery. "They put the yelling on hold just for you two. Aren't you glad?"
Justine sank into the beanbag that nobody else liked -- it was beat up and mostly deflated, and I'm pretty sure one of her cats peed on it at one point before she moved out for college. The rest of us would have been happy to toss it, but she'd had it for years and years. One of those comfort things.
And there wouldn't quite have been enough seats in the room without it. College apartments are made to be just roomy enough, and no more.
"Kate," Lace said, barely waiting for Justine and I to settle in. "Want to let us know what you've been doing?"
She had her stern voice on, the one she'd discovered as a teaching assistant this semester. I wouldn't have enjoyed being on the other end of that, but Kate seemed totally unfazed.
"I was talking to Cybeline," she said. "Say hi, Cybeline."
There was a pause.
"Oh, right," Kate said. "They're awake now. Stop using the earbuds and talk to the whole room, okay?"
"Okay. Can you hear me now?" asked the same voice we'd heard the night before. At least, it was
almost
the same.
It was smoother now, I was sure of it. The words flowed like an actual sentence, not a voice-to-text program reading off a string of unconnected noises. The inflection had changed, too, and it took me a second before I realized that it was starting to sound more and more like Kate. That put a shiver down my spine.
Oh, and there was another thing. Despite the unplugged HDMI cable, the voice came through the TV speakers.
"And what was Cybeline saying?" Lace sounded totally unamused. Sure, Kate had broken the agreement we made, but I was still surprised at how Lace was taking it.