Worlds Apart

Angelica Cortez-Johnson sat on her couch reading, alone in the house for the third evening in a row. In her hands she held a battered hardback copy of

Moby Dick

. As far as she knew, she was the only person on the planet who still had physical books in her home. The other scattered humans who lived on Kallos didn't seem to use them, nor did all the blasted aliens.

She could hear the music, as she always did. A steady thrumming bassline came from the house next door. It seemed like every night the aliens played something. No matter where she went in the house she could always hear it faintly on the edge of her hearing. She hadn't minded it, not at first. As long as the four-armed creatures stayed away from her front door, she could've cared less.

However, now that they'd been out here in the Federation Core for just over a couple years, it was really starting to get to her. She'd been able to put up with it by losing herself in the whirlwind of change that came with Eric and her uprooting their family and leaving the Sol system. But now that they were settled in, change had become routine again. Well, as routine as life got when you were surrounded by non human creatures thousands of light years from where you were born. Some things hadn't changed, like how even out here Eric had a job that demanded he stay late at work constantly, though that had only really started a few weeks ago.

Angie shifted, tucking her legs up underneath her as she leaned against the couch arm. She'd already downed her glass of wine for the evening, which usually helped her tune out the infernal noise and focus on her book. But for some reason this particular evening it was having absolutely no effect- if anything it was making it harder. She couldn't go more than three words without a bass beat from next door interrupting the flow of the story, and after spending twenty minutes rereading a single page, Angie closed the book with a heavy slap.

"Fuck. This," she growled, getting to her feet and stomping to her and Eric's bedroom. She grabbed a robe out of her closet and threw it over her shoulders, then walked out the front door in a huff.

Their house was in the alien equivalent of a suburban neighborhood, along a curved road surrounded by other one-story houses that had been built the same way but over the years had been modified, expanded, or remodeled by various owners. Across the street lived a family of the deer-like ekrontean aliens, their kids playing in the front yard. Angie ignored them, instead crossing her yard diagonally (one thing she'd never been able to get used to was the fact that on this planet chlorophyll was freaking blue) down to the sidewalk, round the bottom of the fence, then cut diagonally back up their neighbor's yard. She knew very little about their neighbors, just that they were oraks and didn't have any kids.

Angie took the two steps up to the porch of the pale yellow house to the white door. She took a breath, then raised her fist and hammered it against the door. "Excuse me!" she called out.

Angie stood and waited, screwing the universal translator beads into her ears as she did. She hated the damn things, but if she wanted to get her point across there needed to be back and forth communication. The beads bipped as they activated.

Just as she raised her hand to knock again, the door opened. She immediately started speaking. "Excuse me, but I really-" Her words stilled as the door opened fully. Standing in the doorway was an orak, one of the four-armed people from Oraakaan. She'd expected that. What she hadn't expected was the exact form of the specimen in front of her.

The alien's most striking feature was his skin. It was pure alabaster white, like fresh snow. In the low light of the evening it seemed to almost glow. He was broad in frame, wide at the shoulders and waist, with defined muscles rising and rippling along his frame like a range of snow-capped mountains. He had one, two, three...eight abdominal muscles all arranged neatly above his waistline. And even lower...

Angie's eyes snapped up before they ventured any lower. He was wearing pants, there was nothing to see. Not that she wanted to look at an alien's freakish package anyway. She looked up at his face, then blinked. The orak had a surprisingly handsome face. Oraks all had black hair, and that apparently extended to facial hair as well, his smooth, strong jaw sporting a trimmed beard. His eyes were also very dark, like black marbles.

The orak's eyes met hers as one pair of his arms tied his hair back into a ponytail, the other set hanging by his sides. Angie saw translator beads in his ears. "Hello there," the orak rumbled, his voice deep and resonant.

The reason why she was there was lost to Angie for a moment. Then she recovered, her irritation returning in force. "Yes, hi, hello. I just came over here to ask you to please stop whatever you're doing with the music. I've been putting up with it ever since I moved in next door, and I can't take it any more! Please just...turn the volume down. I can't think straight in the evenings."

The orak looked confused for a moment, then comprehension dawned on his face. "Oh! My apologies. I didn't realize the, ah, music was annoying you. Why didn't you say something before, Miss..." He paused. "I don't know your name, actually."

"Angelica," she replied automatically. Then she thought,

why'd you give him your first name and not your last?

"Cortez-Johnson," she added quickly.

The orak nodded and smiled warmly. "Good to finally meet you. My name is Keth Barakas."

Angelica was put off by the orak's laid back demeanor. "Charmed," she said slowly. "Thank you for listening. Have a good night. "

Keth nodded, still with that winning smile. "You as well."

Angie turned to go, striding down Keth's lawn. She got halfway down before a thought occurred to her and she turned back around. "Can I ask you something? "

Keth paused, halfway through closing the door. "Of course."

"Don't most orak have...well..." Angie spread her fingers about an inch apart and placed them against her bottom lips. "Like...tusks?"

Keth smiled, the expression warm and inviting. "I did when I was young. But they started growing in wrong, and I had to get them taken out." He shrugged one shoulder. "Things happen."

Angie nodded once. "Ah." She couldn't think of anything else to say after that, staring at Keth for several moments, her eyes lingering on the valleys between his muscles. Was it just her, or was he checking her out as well? "Well then!" she chirped. "Good night." She turned and walked stiffly back down Keth's yard to the sidewalk, her pace picking up as she walked up to her door and closed it behind her. She leaned against the door for several moments. What was wrong with her? He was just an alien. They'd just talked about mundane things. Why did she feel so worked up?

She moved into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, taking several sips as she listened. For the first time in ages, she heard silence, no irritating beat driving her mad. She smiled, taking her glass back to the couch and sitting down. Ahab and company awaited.

She still couldn't focus.

The words seemed to shift and writhe on the page. She grunted, adjusted the book in her lap, and skipped to the next paragraph. There too the words swam and defied her attempts to read them. She sighed and leaned her head back on the couch, huffing out a breath of air that blew one of her locks of hair out of her face. She kept seeing Keth's broad chest, the lines of his muscles. She wanted to-

Angie shook her head violently. "Do nothing of the sort," she growled to herself. She was human. She only wanted humans. One human in particular. Her husband. Who didn't really seem to want her any more.

Oh, she knew what he looked at. He thought she didn't know, but she knew. Those sites where you could find aliens of all kinds spreading their legs for anyone to get a good look. Eric liked the quarrals, the blue and black skinned aliens with pointy ears and silver hair. And he just so happened to be partnered with one at work. Angie knew that if she kept denying it it would only keep hurting, but how could she admit it? She was a psychologist, dammit!

She sighed and put the book down, rubbing her hands over her face. A thought crossed her mind. Before she could stop herself, she was already up off the couch and striding to her bedroom. In the back of her closet was a shelf, where she and Eric often crammed things they had no use for but had no other place to put. She knelt down in front of the shelf and rummaged through the contents, eventually pulling out a small datapad about the size of her palm. She wiped some dust motes off the screen, then flipped it over and did the same to the back. On the back of the datapad was the seal of the Galactic Federation.

Angie sat down on the bed and flicked the switch on the datapad. To her surprise, it still had some charge. Both she and Eric had gotten one when they'd relocated to Kallas. The datapads were standard issue from the Federation, a small encyclopedia of all the races that called the galaxy-spanning collective home. She navigated through the menus, finally bringing up the entry on the oraks. She skimmed over "History" and tapped the "Biology" entry. Still images of a pair of almost naked oraks appeared on-screen, both of them clothed only in underthings. Angie reached out and tapped the orak male's head on screen. This one had tusks, curling out of his lower jaw over his upper lip. The female had them too. Both of them were remarkably similar actually, apart from the female one having a slighty - emphasis on slightly - more slender frame, along with a rack. They

were

mammals, after all.

Angie shut off the datapad and tossed it back into the closet. She let herself fall back onto the bed, trying to will thoughts of Keth out of her mind. "I will not be like my wayward husband," she vowed to herself aloud. "I will not."

But when she fell asleep, she dreamed of those peaks and valleys.

Angie pushed her sunglasses up her nose as she walked into the Asadarf University psychology building, the mirrored tinted lenses hiding her eyes from those of the aliens swirling around her. She'd thought herself lucky at first when she'd found out that the University wanted a human psychologist to fill in the gaps in the Federation's knowledge about the human psyche. However, her supposed luck had soured when she'd realized that what they meant was that they wanted ask her basic questions and then have her help around the department as needed. But it payed alright, and when she wasn't needed she was left alone. She'd sworn on the ride over that she'd get through her chapter of

Moby Dick

that day.

But in addition to the normal stack of busywork in her office, there was someone present as Angie opened the door. She stopped short in the doorway as the person turned around. It was another orak, this one female, and also sporting her tusks. "Hello!" the orak chirped.

Angie stared at her for a moment. The orak was at least a foot taller than her, with smoky grey skin and a smattering of ash colored freckles on her face. Her eyes were brown, her black hair pulled into a ponytail similar to Keth's. Despite being female, she had an imposing muscular physique that seemed to burst out of her dark red business jacket and knee-length skirt, not to mention the heavy breasts that pushed up against her top, the low neckline revealing that her freckles extended further down.

"Hello," Angie said cautiously, not moving from the doorway. "Can I help you with something?"

"Oh, where are my manners?" the orak said. Her voice seemed like it didn't belong to her body, too feminine for a figure that looked like it was about to burst from her clothing if she moved too quickly. The orak extended a hand. "Vola, a pleasure. You spoke with my mate Keth last night."

Angie blinked. "Oh! Your...mate?"

Vola nodded, reaching out with two of her arms and touching Angie's shoulders. "I am so sorry that the noise was bothering you! Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

Because you four armed weirdos freak me out,

Angie thought. "I-it just wasn't a big problem until last night." She moved forward, letting Vola's hands fall of her shoulders.

"I just feel bad," Vola pouted. "We've been neighbors for a couple years now, and the first time we really interact is because you're cross with us. I feel like I need to make it up to you!"

"Really, it's alright," Angie said, setting her bag down on her desk. She forced herself to look at Vola. As much distaste she had for aliens she could at least be polite.

"Oh no no no, I insist. Would you like to eat lunch together today? I'll buy." Vola beamed at Angie, showing more of those curved tusks.

"I usually eat lunch with my daughter every other day," Angie said. "Which happens to be today."

Vola snapped her fingers. "Then come by my office some time this afternoon. I'll be free after three." Her communicator dinged. "Oh, time for my lectures! Seriously, though." Vola folded both sets of her hands and bowed slightly. "Come see me so I can make this up to you."

Angie sat down at her desk and pulled out her laptop. "If I can, I will."

Vola nodded and left, closing the door behind her. Angie sighed and leaned back in her chair.

Aliens

, she thought.

The morning went without a hitch, Angie doing busywork in her office, her thoughts only occasionally flicking back to Keth's body. At midday she went across campus to the cantina to have lunch with her daughter Carly.

"Mom, over here!" Carly stood up at the table and waved. Carly was a slim young woman, her blond hair kept short to more easily fit into her swim caps.

"Hey, sweetie," Angie said, sitting down across from her. "How are you?"

"Just fine!" Carly chirped. She launched into a recounting of her week, in particular the trials of her competing for a spot on a swim team whose members were primarily the amphibious kessa.

"Long story short, I think I may really have a shot at this," Carly finished.

"That's wonderful news, honey!" Angie said.

Much better than I'm doing right now,

she thought bitterly.

Carly nodded a few times. "So how's Dad?"

"Oh. He's busy. We haven't been able to really see each other these past couple days."

Carly nodded. "He told me as much."

Angie frowned. "When did you talk to him?"

"Couple days ago. Called on his lunch break to chat." Carly inclined her head. "Why?"

So you can call and talk to our daughter but never to me, Eric?

"Nothing, honey. Nothing at all."

Angie's thoughts were troubled after she and Carly parted ways and she returned to her office. She finished her busywork an hour before she was supposed to leave, so she pulled out

Moby Dick

again, skipping to the next chapter as Ahab continued to chase his white whale.

But much to her irritation, every time the whale came up, all she could picture was Keth's broad chest and his handsome alien face. She couldn't focus, and slapped the book down on her desk in frustration. What was

wrong

with her?

She packed up her bag and made to leave, resigned to another evening alone. Then she stopped by the stairs.

"Fine," she grumbled after a pause. She tromped up the stairs to the second floor, rounding a corner and following the signs on the wall to the office of Vola Priak. Angie hesitated in front of the door, wondering just what she was doing. Then she knocked.

Eight seconds later, Vola opened the door. She broke into a wide grin, the expression still looking weird to Angie because of her tusks. Slender and elegant as they were, they still had a purpose. "Angelica! Glad you could drop by."

"Not like I had much else to do this afternoon," Angie said, striding into Vola's office. It was bigger than hers, with a desk against the wall across from the door, Vola's laptop in sleep mode with a hypnotizing geometric screensaver. There was a datapad on the desk along with a framed picture of Keth and Vola, and on the wall above it were three separate degrees written in what Angie assumed was orakian script. To her left was a long couch, the kind patients sit on when they talk to psychiatrists, flanked by a chair and some plants.

Angie narrowed her eyes at the couch. "You take patients?"

"I used to," Vola said, walking behind the chair and leaning on the back. "Before I came here to teach I was a psychiatrist on Oraakaas. I have this little setup to help my students who are going into the field themselves. "

"It looks very...human."

Vola nodded. "It's where I got the idea from to be honest. I like the idea of the couch."

Angie was taken aback. Most of the aliens she'd encountered were haughty about their ways. Nine had ever admitted to taking inspiration from humans. "That's...interesting."

"So tell me a bit about you, Angie!" Vola said. "Your last name is so interesting."

"It's just a combination of my last name and my husbands. Nothing really groundbreaking."

Vola rolled her shoulders. "It rolls off the tongue so nicely, though. Were you the Cortez or the Johnson?"

"Cortez," Angie answered. She almost snickered at Vola's phrasing.

"I must admit, I find myself mystified by your mating practices," Vola said. "Orak take partners for life, too, but we never developed such extensive practices about ceremonialize it." She made a face. "Perhaps that's why even now relationship counselors are in such high demand for our people."

"Is that what you did?"

"Still do, on occasion." Vola snickered a little, looking out the window. "You know, I had the entirely wrong impression of you."

Angie frowned. "What impression was that?"

"I thought you were just some stuck-up human who thought herself too good for the rest of the galaxy." Vola beamed at her. "I'm glad you proved me wrong."

Angie felt as though a gaping maw had opened up underneath her feet. "I...erm...well, thank you."

Vola dipped her head. "So tell me about your mate! What's he like?"

Angie almost snorted, but she suppressed it. "He's...very career driven. Works late hours. And I think..." She stopped herself.

"Think what?"

Nothing. She doesn't need to know. It's not her business.

"I think our love life is rather...well, dead."

Dammit!

Vola's eyes flashed as she cocked her head. "Dead as in you two don't have sex any more?"

"W-well, I, erm..."

The orak rounded the chair and took Angie's hands, gently sandwiching them between both pairs of her own. "I mean, we're both adults here, but if you'd rather not talk about it..."

"I..."

Cat's out of the bag now, Angie. Might as well roll with it, since you're being so chummy.

"I'd be lying if I said it wasn't my own fault. The move away from Earth really threw me for a loop." Angie grimaced. "We just kind of settled into a rut. Stopped having sex."

Vola nodded a few times, resting comforting hands on Angie's shoulders. "Are you afraid to ask him for what you want?"

Angie stared at the wall beyond the orak's head, then nodded slowly. "Not that it matters now," she said bitterly. "I'm fairly certain he's cheating on me with a coworker of his."

Vola nodded. "Seems to me like there's some things you need to address but you can't bring yourself to. Are you more afraid of the conversation or what might follow?"

Angie blinked and looked at her feet. "I don't know."

Vola squeezed her shoulders with all four hands. "I'll tell you what. My husband doesn't just live at home. It's where he works as well. He's a physical therapist, practices a mixture of orakian and kessa techniques." The corner of her mouth turned up. "The fish know their stuff."