by Darien Cox
“Baz upset also. Chrischris kind.”
Christian glanced over. “JT has nothing against you, I promise. Talk to Myles. He’s kind too.”
Baz’s head turned and focused on Myles again.
Myles smiled, nodded. Awkward alien encounter. This is my life now.
“Myles,” Baz said.
Myles raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”
“Love Chrischris?”
Myles squirmed in his seat. “Ah...” He chuckled.
“Baz,” Christian said. “Privacy, remember?”
“Apology.” Baz leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.
Myles forced himself to resist his instinct to lean back away from him.
“Myles,” Baz said softly, almost a whisper. He pointed a long white finger at him. “Fortunate.”
“I...I am?”
Baz smiled, and linked his hands in front of him, still leaning forward. “Fond of Chrischris,” he whispered. “Baz. Baz fond of Chrischris.”
“Oh.” Myles glanced back at Christian, who had his back to them, humming to himself as he moved around the kitchen. “I’m...fond of him too.”
Baz’s head bobbed. “Myles fortunate. Should feel fortunate. Chrischris love.”
Myles smiled and nodded. “Yes. I’m very fortunate.”
“Chrischris kind,” Baz whispered. “Beautiful.”
“Yes. He is.”
Oh dear God, I think the alien is jealous of me. This was not a conversation he’d ever have anticipated upon meeting the hybrid. He’d expected someone cold and clinical, perhaps wearing a long white robe and an air of superiority. Not this tee-shirt wearing white hippie telling him he was a lucky fuck to have Christian.
Christian set two cups of coffee down on the table, then pointed to Baz. “Do you want anything?”
“No. Thank to you.”
“Okay.” Christian sat down. “What are you two whispering about over here?”
Baz smiled. “Tiny talk.”
“Small talk,” Christian corrected.
“Small talk,” Baz said. “Now big talk?”
Christian huffed. “Yeah. Big talk. I guess we’ll let you start. Take your time, Baz. Try not to get frustrated, okay?” Christian placed a hand on top of Baz’s.
“To do my best,” Baz said, beaming at Christian.
“I’m sure you will.” Christian leaned back and rested an arm on Myles’ shoulder. “Okay. Hit me.”
Baz’s blond brows pinched. “To hit? No!”
Myles chuckled, then covered his mouth.
Christian twirled his hand. “I mean tell me. Go ahead and talk.”
“Okay.” Baz placed his hands flat on the table. “They?”
“The Whites,” Christian said, glancing at Myles. “He calls the Whites ‘They’.”
“Apology. Whites? To make to pacify now. Others? Angry others.”
“That’s good news I guess,” Christian said. “What happened to...you know. The scary one that they took from my house.”
“Isolate,” Baz said. “Alive.”
“I see. They gonna punish him? Or give him back?”
“No punish. No hurt. To give back maybe. Depend. Depend on the try.”
“So the Whites are gonna try to pacify the angry nasties? How?”
“That to see. To speak. To see what important to others. To pacify.”
“So they’re gonna try to hash out a peace treaty. And they’re willing to make some concessions to the angry others?”
“Yes. More concession. Difficult to make go happy. Possible. Depend on the try.”
“Depends how it goes, naturally,” Christian said. “Are we safe now? Safe from them?”
“Oh yes oh no to worry. The protect...the...” He waved his arms in a circle. “To keep safe? Secret...no. Fuck words.”
“Security?” Myles said.
Baz pointed at him. “Yes. Okay. Security. Up up. More. No to break through now ever. Others.”
Myles and Christian glanced at each other. Christian shrugged. “Good news if it’s true.”
“Truth, Chrischris. Baz no to lie.” Baz reached up and touched the stem of his glasses.
“Uh, uh, wait.” Christian held a hand up. “I believe you. You’d better keep the glasses on.”
Baz frowned. “Chrischris say to see eyes to see truth.”
“I did. But I trust you now.”
Baz’s head bowed. “Trust. Good. Okay.”
“I want to see them,” Myles said. “I’d like to see your eyes. If you don’t mind.”
Baz’s shoulders hunched. “Chrischris concern. Concern to be afraid. Myles.”
“No, no.” Christian shook his head. “It’s fine, if Myles says he can handle it, he can handle it. They’re just eyes, Baz, they’re not gonna bite him.”
“Ah ah ah. Eyes bite. Funny, Chrischris.”
Christian grinned. “I’m hilarious, what can I say.”
“Not go that far,” Baz said.
Myles barked out a laugh. “I wouldn’t go that far either.”
“Damn,” Christian said. “Getting my balls busted here. Okay, Baz. Break out the eyes.”
Baz slid his glasses off and looked at Myles.
Myles stared, his mouth dropping open, mesmerized by the blue-green double iris, the oval pupil, the sheer size. Long white lashes blinked, and the eyes narrowed, lending expression, white brows above pinched slightly. “Holy shit,” Myles said.
Christian nodded. “Yeah. That about sums it up.”
“Frighten?” Baz asked, reaching for his glasses.
“No.” Myles stopped Baz’s hand, then quickly pulled back at the touch of soft heat. “Sorry. Just...could you leave them off? I’d like to see...when you speak.”
“Your expressions,” Christian said. “Will you speak to us with the glasses off, or does that make you uncomfortable?”
Those large, strangely beautiful eyes shifted to Christian. “You comfortable? Chrischris?”
“Completely comfortable. Myles is too, right?”
“I am,” Myles said. “Perfectly comfortable.”
Baz let out a soft breath, a smile playing at his lips. The paper-white flesh around his eyes crinkled ever so slightly with the smile. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Christian said. “Baz, are the angry others hybrids?”
“Okay.” The white lashes dipped as he looked down at his hands.
“They are hybrids. And are they the same combo as you? White and human?”
Baz’s eyes lifted and focused on Christian. “Not exact. Yes okay. But different.”
“More human?” Myles asked.
“Yes. Okay.”
“Is there...” Christian shrugged. “Is there anything else in the mix?”
“No.”
“Then it’s as we thought. Where did they come from?”
“Oh.” Baz sighed, his head bobbing. “Complicated.”
“We’ve done complicated before,” Christian said. “I know you can explain. Take your time. We won’t push you.”
Baz blinked, then his head bowed. “Kind, Chrischris. Always kind.”
“So are you,” Christian said. “You’ve always been kind, so you should be treated kindly.”
Myles marveled as a tinge of pink blushed the hybrid’s white skin. “Okay. Baz find words now.”
Christian nodded. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Baz looked up and placed a hand on his chest. “Baz old now.”
Christian and Myles both chuckled. “Come on,” Christian said. “You’re young and spry.”
“Ah ah ah. Old...er? Older. I tell you. Second? Generation. Greys...fuck with?”
“The Greys fucked with your ancestors’ DNA way back.”
“And where did he learn the term ‘fuck with’?” Myles cocked a brow at Christian.
Baz grinned. “Rudy.” He pointed at Christian. “Chrischris.”
“An accurate choice of words,” Christian said. “So however long ago, this happened, e
ventually you were born out of those hybrids, and so on.”
“Yes. Okay. So. They...Whites long time behind go to places for Greys. They...” His eyes shifted to Christian and his brows lowered. “Run over? No. To go in. To break through? No. To...”
“Steal?” Christian said.
“No. No. Apology. Wait please.” Baz stared at the table, one long finger tapping, then he looked up. “Raid?”
“Ah,” Myles said.
“Correct word?”
“Yes,” Christian said. “The Whites raided the Greys’ facilities. I assume where they were keeping their hybrids?”
“Yes. Okay.” Baz sighed. “Good. Found my befores? Whites find the befores. Before Baz.”
“Your ancestors.”
“Ancestors. Children. Take. All. Deal with. Greys.”
“Okay. They hit all the facilities, collected all the hybrids with White DNA, then somehow dealt with the Greys doing it.”
“Yes.”
“What does he mean by dealt with?” Myles looked at Christian.
Christian shrugged. “Ask him.”
Myles looked at Baz. “How did they deal with them?”
Baz made a cutting gesture across his throat.
“Killed them?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Go on.”
“They take to home. Keep separate. But alive. No harm.”
“So the hybrids were segregated? Where, back on the Whites’ home planet?”
“Many,” Baz said. “Planets.”
“Okay,” Christian said. “How many hybrids were there?”
“Not many,” Baz said. “You say...some thousands?”
Myles choked on a laugh. “That’s not many? Seems like a lot to be created in a lab.”
“Oh, to compare. They. Many more.”
“There must be a fuckload of Whites,” Christian said.
“Yes. Okay. Fuckload.”
“Okay, so back to the angry nasties,” Christian said. “How’d they come about? Were they among the hybrids the Whites found when they raided the Greys’ facilities?”
“No. Not then,” Baz said, his eyes flitting back and forth between Christian and Myles. “Whites think, okay, all clean. Okay, deal with. Then, Baz youth? Not old. Something happen when Baz not old.”
“When you were a child?”
“Oh. Complicated. Older than human child. Not full yet. But mature. Close enough.”
“So like a teenager,” Myles said.
“Close enough. Okay. Yes. They to learn, to spy, to told, one more.” Baz raised a finger. “Other Greys. Secret. Make more. Hybrids.”
“So they missed one facility in their raid?”
“No,” Baz said. “Not in the before.”
Myles drummed his fingers on the table. “I think he’s saying this facility didn’t exist back when they were doing the initial raids. It cropped up after that. In secret.”
“Yes.” Baz pointed at Myles. “New. Try again. Greys thinking...okay, time pass. Still have. Whites. Life blood? To mix. Whites never know. Grey to play again.”
Myles rubbed his eyes. “This is so fucked up.”
Christian patted his shoulder. “It’s a lot to take in. You okay?”
“Yeah.” Myles lifted his head. “It’s okay, Baz. Go on.”
Baz’s head tilted. “Myles to frighten?”
“I’m not frightened,” Myles said. “Just...I don’t know.”
“Freak out?” Baz said.
Myles and Christian laughed. “Yeah,” Myles said. “Just a little freaked out.”
“Okay. Continue?”
Christian waved a hand at him. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“Okay. Whites hear. Whites find. Whites raid. Take...” He folded his arms and rocked them. “Babies.”
Christian let out a breath. “Angry nasty babies?”
“Ah ah ah. Not nasty then. Not angry yet.”
“Of course.” Christian chuckled.
“Take to babies. Put to small moon.”
Myles brows rose. “They quarantined the babies on a moon? Were there Whites there to take care of them?”
“Not Whites,” Baz said. He placed a hand on his chest. “Hybrids. Like Baz. Some. To take care. To raise.”
“Holy shit,” Christian said. “And...were you one of the babysitters, Baz?”
Baz’s eyes lowered, emotion playing on his face, tightening his lips. “Yes. Baz to care. Long time.”
The table fell silent. Myles and Christian glanced at each other.
“Shit,” Christian said, rubbing his chin. “You helped raise them. Then you had to kill one.”
Baz was silent, his eyes cast down.
Myles took a long sip of coffee then set his cup down. “What happened?” Myles asked. “How did they turn into...what they are now?”
White lashes lifted and jewel-colored eyes regarded Myles. “They grow. Not sad. Not angry yet. Baz, other hybrids, care for. Love. Babies grow, learn. Get small vehicles to go on ground. Hybrids give to, teach to. But go far, impossible.” He pointed to his temple. “Babies smart now, want more technology.” He pointed at the ceiling. “See hybrids come, go. Want to fly too. See hybrids with, want to know. Always want more to know.”
“Sounds like a human trait to me,” Myles said.
“Ah ah ah. Okay. Yes. Human impatience. White abilities.” He shook his head slowly back and forth. “Not good mix. Not easy to care always.”
“They were a handful,” Christian said.
“Christ,” Myles said. “Human reproduction is sketchy enough without outside intervention. Things go wrong all the time. But juiced up with alien DNA? It’s no wonder they were fucked up.” He looked up quickly. “Sorry, Baz. I hope that wasn’t offensive.”
“No, fuck up. Yes. Bad mix. Okay. Yes.” He cupped his hands into a ball. “Tiny...animals? On moon. Animals many. Grown babies...to hurt. To paralyze. To bleed.”
Myles winced. “Yikes.”
Christian let out a long breath. “Yikes is right. Little alien Jeffrey Dahmers running around.”
“Okay. Yes. Yikes. Not good. Hybrids, to stop. Bad behavior. To stop. Teach more. Give to technology. Not much. Tiny things. To occupy. To hold minds. So stop bad play. Hurt animals.”
“Did it work?”
“Okay. Only small. Some still bad. Some still bad play with animals. Hybrids teach, no to hurt animals! Lead to behave.”
“I get that you and your kind are nonviolent,” Christian said. “But what about the full Whites? The babies had their DNA too. And the Whites tried to throw Rudy under a moving car.”
“Ah ah ah ah!”
“Sorry,” Christian said. “I don’t find that funny.”
“No, Chrischris. Baz laugh to only try to frighten. Whites...manipulate. Matter. Vehicle? Not to crush. Pass through.” He waved his hand across the table. “To pass through Rudy.”
“So Rudy wouldn’t have gotten killed even if the car had made contact.”
“Rudy...” Baz’s eyes shifted. “Rudy frighten They. To write?” He made a typing gesture with his fingers. “Frighten Rudy to expose? Rudy tell to computer about base? To frighten Rudy. To silence.”
“Why didn’t you tell us that before now?” Christian said. “We’ve been thinking the Whites tried to murder Rudy. Why didn’t you correct us?”
“They. Apology. They say, let humans think. Stay frighten. Take serious.”
“We’ve always taken the Whites seriously, we didn’t need death threats for that.”
“Apology, Chrischris. Tell you now. Disobey and tell you now. Trust.”
“Got it,” Christian said. “That’s a relief I guess. So what happened after that? With the angry nasties I mean.”
“Oh.” Baz shook his head. “Painful. Whites to say, oh, babies grown. Care for selves. Hybrids care for no more. Collect. Collect Baz. Collect others like Baz on moon. Travel. To Earth base. Control traffic.” He pointed at the ceiling. “Job.”
“Jesus
,” Myles said. “All of you?”
“All. Remove. Leave grown babies alone. On moon.”
“Alone. With the animals.” Christian sighed and buried his face in his hands. “Baz...are there...girl angry nasties? Female?”
“Okay. Yes. Both. Not to make new babies. Try. No new babies come.”
“So they’re sterile,” Myles said. “A small blessing.”
“They just removed you all on a whim?” Christian said. “And left the more human, grown baby hybrids alone, to their own devices. That must have been hard on you as well as them, after all that time spent with them.”
Myles watched a tear leak from one of Baz’s large eyes. He wiped it away. “Apology.”
Christian reached over and grabbed Baz’s hand. “It’s okay.”
Baz squeezed Christian’s hand, then took it back and wiped his eyes. “Painful.”
“I’m sure it is,” Christian said. “We can take a break if you want.”
“No. Baz continue.”
“All right. If you’re sure.”
Baz’s head bobbed. “Yes. Okay. Grown babies weep. Other hybrids weep. Baz weep. Grown babies scream...not to go! Hybrids...not Baz, but others like. Told things to many. Told things to grown babies? About Whites. About babies come from. Tell all. Grown babies know. Now know. Bad idea.”
“They became aware of their own origins and history with the Whites.”
“Yes. Okay. We to leave. Grown babies say, not good. Not to fair! We to see Whites. We to not be left alone. We to travel far and look at humans. We to get vehicles so big to live. We desire....no.” Baz shook his head. “Not desire. Fuck words. Oh. Oh, oh. Have word. We deserve. Deserve all that Whites have.”
“Understood,” Christian said. “And that’s what led to where they are now. And who they are now.”
Baz’s eyes lifted, still slightly watery. “Hate. So pure hate. Give grown babies purpose. Grow angrier. Work together. Lure in with communicate. Ships from sky. Say need help. Come to moon.”
“They lured other races down to the moon with a distress call?” Christian said.
“Yes. All alone now. Very...manipulate. Steal from others find in fly. Steal from ships to pass. Steal to build better for selves. Steal to get knowledge. Technology. Advance. Fast. Too fast. Then go out. Stolen vehicles. Go out. To follow. To find Whites. Battles. Deaths.”
“They attacked the Whites?”
“Some. Not good. For grown babies. Too...confidence.”
