🐈chris 🐈‍⬛

@christaaah.bsky.social

106 Followers 183 Following

Distracted writer, parent, & cat owner.

Halfway to campus, I realized I’d had coffee but forgotten breakfast. I pulled over and locked my bike in front of one of the local coffee shops. No double caffeination for me, but they usually had something quick I could grab for breakfast. “Hey, Professor!” one of my students called out. A kid named Brad, who turned in most of his assignments late, but made up for it by often skipping class. “Hey, Brad.” I said. “Are you coming to class today?” He shrugged and set his energy drink down on the counter. “We still got time, right?” I made agreeable noises in return—he wasn’t a bad guy, and it was an early class—and surveyed the sandwich selection. Egg salad, tuna, BLT… nothing that screamed ‘breakfast’. In the background, Brad paid, waved goodbye, and left. I moved on to the pastry case. I usually tried to eat healthier—I’d spent a lot of time after the crash making sure my body was in working order—but the morning after one of those dreams always left me needing a little something extra. I found the muffins, and put two down on the counter.
Two chairs sit side by side in front of a desk. A black and white cat is asleep in the more comfortable looking one.
Stelle sighed and stood up, wincing as the bruised spot on her leg took weight, and began climbing up the ladder, going one rung at a time to give anyone at the top a good head start. Although, from the sounds of it, she’d be stuck down here for another half hour prying the dented panel out of place. She felt around her tool belt, and noticed that another tool was missing, a heavy one. Yep, that was probably what the noise hammering above her was. Fortunately, she still had sheet metal cutters in her front pocket. She wondered if the subsequent repairs would be deducted from her bonus.
The alien made its way through the long docking tube, behind him, then hung back near the entrance, at his direction. “Remember, all I’m asking you to do is make some noise,” Glenn reminded it. They approached the hatch at the other end, the one that led into the ship itself. The door opened at the tap of his ID, as expected. The interior was dim, but brighter than the utter darkness outside. There was no one in sight. Glenn relaxed, just a hair, and stepped across the threshold. They dropped on him from the ceiling.
“What have you got yourself into, Stelle?” Cleo breathed, barely above a whisper. She glanced nervously over her shoulder at the conference room, then back to Stelle. They shared a long, silent look. Stelle tried not to look guilty. Finally, Cleo broke eye contact, turned toward the conference room door, and said in a loud voice, “Coffee break, great idea, let’s go!” Stelle started to protest, but Cleo was already ushering her out of her chair. Stelle pulled back long enough to grab the clinking box from under her desk, then rushed after Cleo into the hall. Once they were outside and the door was safely shut behind them, Cleo said, “What’s going on? Did you run into anyone down there? Are you in trouble?” “No… Not any more than usual,” Stelle said sheepishly. “I mean... I don’t think so?” “That was not reassuring."
“Oh, good. It’s just… with the children and everything…the curfew… We’re closing early today, and, and… we’re not sure about tomorrow. We thought Lucie… we thought they all may be safer with their families. Especially Lucie,” the teacher said. Glenn nodded along at this. It wasn’t as if reading between the lines was difficult. The mood on the station had stabilized after the attack, but it wasn’t good by any stretch. There had been a few panicked gatherings, quickly dispersed by security—nothing more serious than some minor property destruction, thus far. From what he’d overheard, half the station was convinced they were under alien control, and among those it was 50/50 whether this was an improvement over Earth ownership. And he knew, although the teacher hadn’t said it, that she’d seen him on that news report as well.
“My actions have led me here, as have yours.” “Right, but mine have been intentional, and you’re pretending to be passive and helpless. That wasn’t how you acted when you attacked me,” she said levelly. “An action I regret! And see where we both are now!” I’m right where I want to be, Stelle thought, fighting to hide the sense of satisfaction she felt at finally having a conversation with one of these aliens that made some kind of sense... even if it was getting lost a bit in the philosophical weeds. Was humanity just floating in a pond full of ripples, powerless to resist the coming reckoning? Or was there a chance they could have some agency in their own fate? She’d spent so long just trying to survive her own life. Maybe the question was a little too close to home. Try as she might, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but keep going, keep pushing. Was sheer bullheaded stubbornness a good enough substitute for agency? Better not question that one too closely, or her own house of cards might fall apart. She got to her feet, pressing her point. “Do you regret protecting [redacted], then? He’s free now, because of your help. He got on another ship. I saw him on the interface. Did you know? He’s probably headed back to Mars. Would you rather have turned him over to the Station Manager?” The creature fluffed its head-feathers, which Stelle read as irritation, but it said quietly, “No.”
“Great!” said Glenn. “That’s great.” There was another long pause, and Stelle tried to think of something to say, some way to bridge this gap between her old life and the new, but all that filled her head was a sort of panicked buzzing static and thoughts about laundry and sticky floors and whether the mushy thing she’d just touched in her pocket was cereal or some unknown substance.  The silence stretched on. She saw the grin on his face fade, and felt a hole open up in her stomach in response. Nothing good could come of this. She wasn’t whoever she’d been anymore, and stirring up all these old feelings about it wasn’t going to lead anywhere productive. She ought to go home and toss all her old tools right in the recycler. What had she been thinking? She’d put herself, and Lucie, at risk... and maybe it had been necessary, but that didn’t mean she was going to continue. Not that any of that had anything to do with this, it was just, it felt like she was looking through a portal into another life. A one way opening from the other direction that she couldn’t go through. He started to open his mouth, to say something else, but Stelle cut him off. “Listen, I’m sorry to run, but I’m late for work right now…” She turned to leave, unsure whether a second hug would be welcome, to end things on a positive note. Probably not, unless Glenn enjoyed the feeling of damp cereal.
The station was awake now, and the grand staircase was busy when she descended, but if anyone recognized her, they kept it to themselves. She walked as fast as she could, which was not very, and kept her head down and her hood up. About halfway through the park, she was willing to admit she might have overestimated how far she could walk in her current condition. She paused to catch her breath on a park bench.
Stelle used the last of her  strength, and half-dragged her daughter across the plaza, into the safety of the park.  She wasn’t sure how she managed it; her legs felt like they belonged to someone else, and her breath was coming in short gasps. She was barely aware of what she was doing, only that they had to get away. Behind them, there was a high pitched scream, and then what sounded like several people fighting. She didn’t look back. “Mama?” came her daughter’s voice, small and tearful now. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, Lucie.” Stelle half-dropped her daughter, then squatted down next to Lucie, trying to keep them both quiet. They were off the main path, partially hidden behind a flowering bush. She didn’t hear anyone in pursuit. Maybe they’d been quick  enough. Maybe they were okay. 
Her station-issued shoes, little more than slippers, padded silently over the metal treads of the elevator flooring. She shuffled to the back of the elevator and leaned against the far wall, feet feeling slow and heavy. The air inside was stuffy, contrasting with the cool breeze outside. Glenn’s boots made more of a muffled thump as he followed her. He stood to the side as the door ratcheted closed behind them. The elevator whirred into motion, surrounding them with a gentle hum. A near-weightless feeling filled her stomach as the gravity adjusted to compensate for the high speed ascent. Glenn took in the surroundings, then strode across the platform to lean against the far wall, facing back toward the door—next to her, but not quite touching. He crossed his arms, imitating her, and said, “Does this remind you of it?” “Of what?” “Oh. The Reliant. Looks just like it in here. Same paint colors.” He indicated the walls around them with a nod.
Cleo, as if on cue to say the thing she last wanted to hear, said, “So, how’s that fine looking Martian from the other night doing?” “Not going to happen,” said Stelle shortly. “I haven’t heard from him.” “Did you ever message him?” “No. I’ve been busy. Cleo… how would you feel about babysitti—” “Not going to happen,” Cleo repeated back to her in the same short tone of voice, without missing a beat. “You know I don’t know what to do with kids,” she added, more gently. “Remember when my cousin was visiting? We almost had to go to the ER like three different times. Anyway, what do you need a babysitter for? … wait, are you lying to me about the Martian? In that case, I’d consider it.” “No! Never mind. Forget it.”
Tom Hiddleston as Loki, captioned, "Yes, very sad. Anyways..."
A 3 panel comic showing a sweaty person laying on a sofa, a slightly zoomed in shot of the same person, and a panel saying, “it’s too hot”
Two cats curled up in front of a heating vent
A black and white cat sitting on the keyboard of a laptop. His expression is pleased.
A plate of slightly crumbly chocolate chip cookies