Interestingly, it seemed like the human was even more excited about communicating with him than he was with her. As a smile appeared on Artemis’s face, Azdrei’in’s gaze dropped to her mouth, taking notice of the rounded shape of her teeth. On the outside, her species shared many similarities with Lunvalgans, but he was beginning to find more differences the more time he spent with her. Apparently, Earthlings lacked the predatory traits that helped his people survive. She didn’t have fangs and, upon sneaking a glance at her hands, he saw that she didn’t have claws either. Her skin looked more delicate than his as well.

It was a wonder to him that such a defenseless race had established themselves as the dominant species on this planet. It must have been their intelligence that set them apart rather than their ability to establish themselves as the strongest species. On Ashad’te, his ancestors had done the same thing, but they had still used their sharp ends to bring down prey to eat when they were hungry. The thought led him to ponder what humans ate if they didn’t have the same hunting tools as his kind did.

That was a question for another time though as Artemis responded to his inquiry about what the word ‘water’ meant. The look on her face when he shared a vision of his people’s planet amused him. Judging by her shocked expression, he guessed that humans didn’t communicate telepathically like Lunvalgans did, but she was still able to receive signals from him. That would make it easier for him to speak with her, at least. Even if she couldn’t answer the same way, he could send her images and impressions to clear up misunderstandings.

It was a pity that her species had been deemed too violent to cohabitate with. He leaned against the tall table while he watched her draw more pictures on her device. Despite their decision to commit mass genocide, his people weren’t unreasonable killers. They had only spread the disease to eliminate the human race because they’d feared that if they didn’t strike first, the Earthlings would have killed them as soon as they tried to land their ship. By proving themselves to be a savage species, the humans had brought their extinction upon themselves. He was just glad that this one wasn’t as quick to kill, so he could learn more about her kind before they were all gone.

He still kept a close eye on her, just in case she suddenly snapped and became hostile, but for the most part, he’d relaxed while she was preoccupied with speaking with him. His posture was mellow, with his shoulders down and back and his breathing slow and even. When he’d first landed on the planet, he hadn’t thought that he would spend his time interacting with one of the creatures he’d been sent to finish off, but he had wanted to learn as much about the Earth as he could. What better way to do that than by talking directly with one of the beings native to this world?

When another screen turned on nearby, he jumped, caught off guard by the sudden motion until he registered that Artemis had somehow connected it to the smaller device on the table. Human technology was different than what his people had developed, but it was advanced in its own way. Fascinated, he crossed the room to take a closer look at the larger screen, watching as the human’s drawings were replicated on it. The next one told a familiar narrative, seeming to depict Earthlings at war with one another while the natural world rumbled around them. It was the reason why the Eilix had decided they needed to die.

After the image was pulled down, he followed along as she presented a series of photos and videos to him that painted a picture of what had happened when his people had released Strizin over their planet. As the images flashed before his eyes, Azdrei’in shifted his weight uncomfortably. He understood that sending a plague had been a necessary evil, but it was easier to see it that way when he was removed from the virus’s direct effects. Watching the deterioration of Artemis’s family elicited a pang of dissonance inside of him. The pain she endured was the same pain his elders had experienced when they’d watched the people closest to them die back on Ashad’te.

As she moved on to pictures of herself, he gained some insight into the reason why she was so eager to speak with him. It looked like she had been alone since the virus had taken her relatives’ lives. He looked away from the screen to peer at her over his shoulder in quiet contemplation. If humans were social creatures like Lunvalgans, she must have been deprived of interacting with anyone else for quite some time. He did have to wonder why she seemed to have been immune to Strizin’s effects though. The virus was supposed to have killed off all Earthlings, and those who survived were supposed to become animalistic according to the biochemical engineers who had created it. Yet somehow Artemis seemed to have kept her wits intact.

Her next image coaxed him to turn back to the screen as she drew two figures that he recognized as male and female and proceeded to identify herself as the latter. The hesitation in her voice when she asked if he was male was humorous to him, and he chuckled. “Male,” he repeated, facing her and pressing his hand to his chest again in confirmation while a thin smile curved his lips upward.

Of all the details she could have focused on, it amused him that his gender was one of the first things she asked about. It seemed unimportant to him, since they didn’t belong to the same species. He did find her features visually appealing, particularly the exotic green color of her eyes, but she wasn’t a Lunvalgan. Therefore, it didn’t matter if she was a male or a female because to his kind, gender was only important in terms of mating, and he would only mate with the female that the Om’phaers—their fertility specialists—selected for him based on reproductive compatibility. It was what was normal for his people, especially since their ability to reproduce had been hindered by the disease that had destroyed their home planet.

As Artemis approached the large screen, he eyed her carefully, still watchful for any sudden movements. Up close, he noticed that she was slightly smaller than the average female Lunvalgan. Not by much, but he still stood about a head taller than her in close proximity. He followed her gesture toward the trees onscreen, then watched as the image transitioned to one of her with a small, fake animal. Her description of the simplified faces she drew clicked quickly. He understood that she was portraying positive and negative emotions.

As she explained in simple terms that she was happy when they talked, he found that he agreed. He was enjoying learning from her even though it wasn’t what he’d been sent to the Earth to do. [i]It does not matter,[/i] he thought, justifying his breech in protocol. [i]The rest of the colony will not join us until the planet is deemed safe, and that will not happen for a long time.[/i]

Watching her draw another picture, he laughed again when he realized the craft she had sketched was supposed to be his ship. The shape was vaguely similar, but it was apparent that she had never seen a Lunvalgan ship up close, if at all. He wasn’t entirely sure what she was trying to ask him by drawing the image, but he could tell that she was expressing interest in him, so he replied, “No,” and corrected her by projecting a mental image of the private craft he’d piloted when he’d come to her planet. The black vehicle was sleek with crescent-shaped wings and a body shaped like a water droplet that tapered at the nose.

Letting the image dissipate, he paused, tapping a digit against his thigh as he contemplated showing her more. It felt strange to him to tell a being that his leaders had labeled an enemy anything about his people, but she wouldn’t be alive much longer anyway. There was no reason to keep secrets when he was still under orders to kill her before the rest of the colony arrived.

Deciding to satisfy her curiosity, he conjured an image of the mothership, where he and the rest of his people had been living since before he’d been born. Along with the image, he expressed a warm, comfortable feeling in an attempt to convey that the ship had been his home. He showed her the various spaces his people had established on the craft for sleeping, eating, socializing, and even the area where he and the other Lunvalgans who had been assigned as warriors trained.

In their society, every career path was designated by the Om’phids, a group of specialists who were in charge of placing each Lunvalgan in a role best suited for him or her based on personal aptitudes. Those who scored highest in physical abilities such as strength and reflexes were often selected to be warriors: the members of their society who protected the masses from danger and who, once they settled into their new home planet, would be responsible for hunting down animals to feed them. He was unsure if humans had developed a similar process or not, so to explain it without words, he tilted his chin up and brushed his braided hair aside, revealing a black brand on the side of his neck. It was difficult to see against his dusky skin, but the mark didn’t have the same silvery tone as his natural complexion. It was a circle with the Lunvalgan symbol for warriors in the center. As he showed it to her, he impressed a sense of strength along with images of Lunvalgans firing laser guns at target dummies, rehearsing combat formations and piloting individual spaceships.

Letting his hand fall back down to his side so his hair covered the brand again, he envisioned the memory of his commander assigning him to be a member of the Yihai, a snapshot of his flight down to the Earth, and his exploration of the ruins he’d come across when he’d first landed, including his encounter with the hostile human and his discovery of her farm.

Afterward, he studied her face and focused on the structures he’d seen not too far from where she lived, sharing with her his curiosity about what they were in the hopes that she could tell him more about what he’d seen.