In Search of Home

Chapter 90

The ship landed with a dull thud, air hissing from its joints. Despite the ISS's insistence that the captain exit the ship first, everyone mutually agreed (Vok'Rul demanded it) that Vok'Rul exit the ship, along with Viktor and his friends. It'll be good for them to see the Vokkrus getting along with a large group of humans, Vok'Rul had said. Viktor had worriedly responded that Vok'Rul wasn't the most unassuming alien they could send. He was tall, sharp, and dangerous to anyone who looked at him wrong. 

Nonsense, Vok'Rul had declared, washing away any protests Viktor had. He wished he could throw a punch harder than a Victorian child dying of plague would be able to.

"Remember," Viktor said, barely able to get the words past the lump in his throat. "Look peaceful. I'll have to translate for you. You should say nice things. Like, 'we come in peace,' they love that."

"How silly," Vok'Rul said, amused. He wasn't taking this very seriously. 

"I'm serious," he insisted, fingers twitching around the bars of his walker. Vok'Rul leaned down to smooth his hair back. It did little to soothe the nerves in his stomach. 

They were in the plaza. The noise of the humans crowding inside of it made him nauseous. They were eagerly waiting for the all-clear to exit the ship, and their excitement was palpable. And loud. 

The ramp they were standing in front of hissed open, and Viktor squinted against the light. The smell hit him next. Hot sand and a strange sweetness. They had landed in the Sahara Desert, after all. As they descended the ramp, Viktor fought against the gravity - much harsher on his body than he remembered - and struggled to get down without falling flat on his face. That would be embarrassing. 

Vok'Rul's face was upturned. He was admiring the sky. It was a bright, beautiful blue. 

Trucks, large things with even larger wheels, surrounded the ramp. There were journalists, photographers, reporters, and cameras everywhere. They were held back by a weak line of security, who ushered them backward with minimal success. Viktor's heart pounded in his chest, throbbing in his throat. 

"It's alright, Kohgrash," Vok'Rul whispered to him as they reached the ground. Viktor was reminded that he had his heart rate monitored. "This will go smoothly, I promise." 

Viktor hoped so. Why was he down here, again?

A loud voice, crackling through a megaphone, caught his attention. "Greetings, alien. What business do you have with Earth?" The voice was cautious, wary, but not outright hostile. Viktor hoped that was a good sign. 

"Hello!" Vok'Rul said loudly, cheerfully. Viktor hoped they could hear him when he translated. Maybe sending down the kid who couldn't speak all that well was a bad idea. "I am Vokkra Rulshkka of planet A1-308, and we come in peace. I am sure you have received my message." 

The group of people - some official-looking people that intimidated Viktor, if he were honest - inched closer to the ramp where they stood. Viktor couldn't see any, but he was certain there was security personnel, fully equipped with guns and everything needed to blast them all to bits. He tried not to feel like he'd faint. 

One of the men nodded at Viktor. "And you are?" 

"Uh, Viktor, sir," he said, offering the man a nervous smile. The man returned it slightly. 

"Nice to meet you, Viktor," the man held out his hand, and Viktor took it, shaking it as firmly as he could. It was hard when he felt like he was sinking into the sand underneath them. 

The man nodded at Vok'Rul, glancing up at the tall alien before looking back at Viktor. "Can he understand me?" 

Viktor nodded, sharing a glance with Vok'Rul. The alien looked amused. He's probably had this meeting with a lot of other planets before. "Yes, sir. He can understand you." Viktor brushed his hair away from his ear, tilting his head to reveal the translator. "We have translators. There's some more in the ship that we can give you."