Blind Date (stand-alone short)

Iago had lived aboard this spaceship for thirteen years, and today that was officially half his life. In that time, he had been called many things: property, fool, servant, pilot. He still didn’t know what three quarters of the buttons did, but that was fine. No one else knew either.

Technically, his name was Santiago, but he had dropped the first syllable a few years back. When clawed pincers had first dragged him aboard as a whiny, confused barely-a-teen, he’d thought perhaps he was meant to be a missionary. But what was God’s message for eyeless extraterrestrial amalgams of crab and octopus? No, he wasn’t a saint, and the shortened name was easier.

The ship had changed hands—or pincers—often, and the hierarchy shuffled like a deck of cards. Iago was always the lowest of the low—sometimes even the mold outranked him—but Boss57 was the friendliest. No, Iago didn’t bother saying their names any more than most of them bothered saying his.

When Boss57 said he had a surprise, Iago was intrigued but not worried. This boss was eccentric but not cruel. He followed through the dark corridors until Boss57 stopped before the door of the smallest cargo bay and clamped a pincer on the junction of Iago’s shoulder and neck. It hurt, but it was supposed to be a comradely gesture, so he didn’t balk.

“I will tell you what is behind the door, for I do not wish your heart to give out due to insufficient preparation,” Boss57 said in English because he liked to say things the others wouldn’t understand.

A tingle of apprehension took up residence in Iago’s throat, ready to drop into his stomach and explode like a firework, but he placed his hand at the base of the alien’s neck in acceptance.

“I found a female from your world. I am told she is very fertile, and I hope you will get along very well.”

Yep, that apprehension found his stomach, and it was like when one firework lands in the box. On the inside, he was chaos, smoke, and scorched pavement. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. As Boss57 removed his grip to toggle the door controls, Iago ran a hand over his hair and smoothed his sweaty shirt. It was always sweaty—the crab-topi preferred rain forest-like conditions—but it was suddenly extra sweaty in the smelly kind of way.

It was nothing compared to the smell that hit him when the door opened. She reeked like mulch, and it was definitely her, not just the air, because the stench moved with her. Iago had never been good with manners, but he knew better than to mention her ode du manure. Recalling his own first moments aboard, he steeled himself to be welcoming.

She took another step, and it clicked. Literally, it made a clicking sound, and not like his mother’s heels. He was also fairly certain she had more than two feet and was massive.

Iago scrambled though his pockets for an item he had made long ago and rarely used anymore. With a smaller click, a beam of light shone on this female earthling, and she mooed. She had small horns, cloven hooves, a spotted leathery hide, and utters that weren’t as prominent as in cartoons but still clearly there.

“Sh-she’s a cow.”

Boss57 placed a pincer atop Iago’s head in blessing. “I hope you will be good mates.”

“No, she’s a cow. We’re not the same species.”

Boss57’s tentacles rustled, and he retracted his claw. “I acquired her at great cost for your happiness, for it can be difficult to have no company of your kind. Was I deceived, and she is not from your world?”

“She is, but she’s not my kind. Earth has lots of species, and most of them can’t talk.”

Boss57 didn’t give up the search, and they stood before the cargo door again in a similar ritual.

“I have found a more suitable bride for you.”

Iago cringed, and sure enough, this time she was a parrot. Next, a turtle, a small dinosaur-like creature he was sure was supposed to be extinct, and a goldfish, though how Boss57 thought that was supposed to work when Iago was clearly a land animal was a mystery.

Iago stopped straightening his hair and shirt and thinking up pickup lines. He really wished he hadn’t tried out any of them on the parrot.

“I was certain I was correct this time. You have such similar genetic material,” Boss57 said about the bear.

“You think we look alike?”

It was probably true despite the unfortunate wording. Boss57 didn’t have eyes, so nothing looked like anything to him. Iago should probably learn to shave, but he was proud of his few beard hairs.

He sighed as he stood before the cargo bay door again. He didn’t have time for this, and he didn’t want to be responsible for another pet. On the bright side, the mold no longer outranked him because “one of the earthling females” had eaten it, and no he wasn’t sure which one. Nearly one hundred percent of his earnings went toward their feed and upkeep.

Yet, this time when the door opened, she was human. He clicked on his flashlight to make sure, and yes, she was still human.

“Females of your species are very wrinkly.”

Iago shushed him. She was probably in her eighties, but it had been so long since he had seen another human. He extended a hand to her and meant to say welcome. He meant to say a million friendly things, but none made it through his tight throat. His eyes stung, and his vision blurred.

He turned off the light, found her fingers, and led her shuffling into the ship.

“Well, let’s introduce her to the rest of your harem,” Boss57 announced.

Iago wished he were a puddle on the floor. He had no more romantic attraction to her than he did for the others or for his grandma, but he very much wanted her to think well of him. “Please don’t call them that.”

Boss57 turned, tentacles rustling, and performed a facsimile of a curtsy toward the octogenarian. “Ah, I forget Pilot takes issue with that term. He has yet to reproduce with any of them, I assure you, despite how Genie sleeps curled at his feet every night.”

“Genie is a collie,” Iago said quickly, hands raised and invisible in the dark.

“She is very beautiful, and I want puppies. I am assured puppies are adorable.”

Not even being a puddle would save him from this humiliation. Was it possible to switch places with the mold?

“I am never having puppies, and before he says anything else, Sabrina is a python, Raquel is a bunny, and Xena is a jaguar, and she owns all of cargo bay twenty. I suggest not going in there because if she’s in a mood, she will literally eat you.”

The woman grabbed his waving hands. “Cálmate hijo, ¿qué te pasa?”

Wait, could it be true? She didn’t know what Boss57 had said?

“D-do you not understand English?”

“Me niego hablar un lenguaje tan estúpido.”

Iago couldn’t argue with that. English was a stupid language a lot of times. He straightened and put on a grin. This might work out after all. He just had to brush up on his Spanish.