By the time I reached spaceport security I’d taken to smiling idiotically in all directions so as to give the cameras the impression I was innocent. According to my screenwork, I was headed to Saturn to conduct “research” for the science corporation where I worked. In actuality, I’d registered with an underground, interplanetary dating service. Along with getting arrested, I worried the alien creature from Saturn with whom I’d been retina-messaging all week — her name was Z)(Z — was actually a he, or worse, a kidnapper looking to sell my body parts to some illegal market.
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to scan your pants, sir.”
Once I settled into my seat on the ship, thoughts of my wife resurfaced. I called her. When she answered, I thought, “Hey.”
forehead sweat.” The little Pf spun around on the screen and then a purple pill slid into the tray. The purple kind always made me ill. I swallowed it, anyway . . . and awoke to the Pilotor speaking in my head: “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Saturn.”
Z)(Z was approximately sixteen feet tall, with eyes the size of grapefruits, and skin covered in pastel spots that, although I couldn’t be sure, may have changed shapes every so often. Instead of feet, her arms and legs came to an elegant point I found erotic. We rode in her little craft in silence. Frankly, I felt like a child in the gigantic seat. When we exited the tunnel from the spaceport, I almost fainted at the beauty of the sky. It was a lemon color infused with red veins that flashed intermittently. I began to weep uncontrollably.
“There’s not much time,” she said.
“You mean, I could get arrested?”
“It’s illegal here to have sex with just one being.”
“It’s illegal where I’m from to have sex without being married to one being. But everyone does it. My best friend recently got eight years for fingering with intent to coital. He’ll be out in three with good behavior, but still . . .”
Her grapefruit eyes looked at me with tremendous compassion. I had so many questions, but like any encounter with a foreigner, I didn’t want the situation the turn into a discussion panel.
“Lie on the bed,” she said. "There isn’t much time.”
“Where are we?” I asked, beginning to fear the worst again.
“The house of my family.”
The bed was the size of some people’s front yards. “I kind of thought we’d go for a walk or something, you know, get to know each other?”
She instructed me to lie down, at which point she stood over me. Suddenly, my whole body got sucked up inside her. I held my
breath, but I was too compartmentalized to touch myself. Then my entire body stiffened, and I became so numb with pleasure I began to lose consciousness.
The mother said something in a sound I found utterly soothing. “My mother senses you are drowning in a past love. She’d like to offer you what you would call a ‘mineral’ to rid yourself of this affliction.”
©2006 Tom Lombardi and Nerve.com.
|Tom Lombardi’s fiction is forthcoming in McSweeney’s Quarterly, and has appeared in Fence, McSweeneys.net, and Opium. His website is www.tomlombardi.org.|