"What is the most powerful thing in the universe? What dwarfs the splicing of atoms, the gasses of the stars? Could it be..... love?"
Prospector Éeyhew o-Ankank was an accountant for the Ékyow Corporation, a diligent and hardworking Ixkutan, whose avian mind was filled with curiosity and wonder. The galaxy had intrigued him ever since he was a hatchling, so much so that his parents hoped he would have taken a career in deep space exploration, or perhaps in the political world of their most tranquil theocracy. But interests come, and interests go, leading him down a different path, one that he was good at and had filled his heart with much joy. Still, he often thought about seeing the stars outside of Ixkutan space, so when he was approached with a business trip to the Earthborn colony of Centuria, he jumped at the opportunity. Éeyhew quickly packed his stuff and left for the company ship soon after informing his wife, saying goodbye to her as he had always done when leaving for work. The only difference that there was in his morning ritual was how he was barely able to hold his excitement, his tail swinging wildly as he packed all the essentials.
During the two-day-long journey, he could think of nothing but the sights he would bear witness to, of the wonders built by the hands of human colonists who toiled under binary suns, architects of a dream turned into reality. Éeyhew’s datapad bathed him in artificial light for hours on end, the small, delicate screen filled with the downloaded website of museums and tourist guides, with the Centurian Colonial Museum being his go-to page to check before finally going to bed.
Yet on the first day he tread upon the soil of the ancient colony, his mind was captivated not by museum displays or the words of curators, but by a scene most unfamiliar to his species. During dinner, Éeyhew dined with his coworker at a reputable restaurant located in the heart of Centuria’s capital, with seats right beside a large window overlooking the district known as the “Old Town”. There, on the cobblestone streets, his eyes caught the presence of two young humans, a male and a female, standing closely in front of each other. With their hands holding another’s, they stared into each other’s starry eyes, gazes filled with what could only be described as religious intoxication. The two seemed to be saying goodbyes, yet so deep was their adoration for one another, that every time one of them distanced themselves by just a few inches, the other would pull them back in, continuing a cycle of innocent obsession. Éeyhew watched them with curiosity, observing the couple’s lack of care for personal space, while cheeks burned redder than the famous dunes of mighty Mars. He watched from afar, until the man whispered something sweet, a promise perhaps, and the two parted, only looking back once the realisation of their broken connection hit their minds.
Then Éeyhew began to think. He had taken part in cultural sensitivity trainings before; he knew how the Ixkutan creed might have made them appear a bit “cold” to the Earthborn, how their stoic and frugal ways of achieving planetary harmonies are alien to the more materialistic and individual-oriented humans. But the affection, the love he had witnessed firsthand, dwarfed his own feelings towards his own partner, that gentle avian he had left so hurriedly alone. It made him feel strange, left him dazed and confused, as he blinked blankly at the spot where the two lovers once stood. He became more self-conscious from then on, his gaze falling on a dozen other similar moments as he and his coworkers made their way back to their suites. Kisses, locked hands, hugs, smiles and laughter. Most of these existed in some shape or form in his species’ cultures, but they did not seem to carry the same weight human love had, acting more as signs of respect or rituals of the simplest kind.
The whole thing stuck with him throughout the following days, always resurging once he found some time to himself, popping up just as the memory began to sink into the deepest corners of his mind. He never gave it any serious thought, not until the third day of his visit, when he finally had the chance to step inside the pristine halls of the Centurian Colonial Museum with a man named Jacob Pierce, who had been the guide of his group ever since the Ixkutans had arrived. Now, Jacob was a simple man, someone who was content with where he was in the world, for he loved his work and was always eager to share his knowledge about Centuria’s thousand-year-old history with anyone who showed even a slight interest in the topic. Of course, Éeyhew was one such being. He was enthralled by the man’s tales about the past, filled with fun little facts and deeper explanations behind certain sights inside the CCM. The curious alien listened closely and in silence, either nodding along with Jacob’s words or gasping in wonder at the stories of the early settlers. Suffice to say, the two quickly became friends over the trip.
Everything was quiet during the first few hours, until Éeyhew read a display about the name of Centuria’s capital, Esther’s Bay. He couldn’t grasp the meaning behind it before, thinking that its true origins were to be found in one of Earth’s myriad ancient languages, a secret only those with deep roots to mankind’s true homeworld could even hope to understand. The display read:
“[…] The city’s name was given by the Chief Commanding Officer of the Alpha Centauri Colonization Corps, Jackson B. Lloyd Sr., who christened the land after his loving wife and fellow colonial figurehead, Miss Esther Lloyd. […]” It was a love letter. A simple, two-word long love letter.
Éeyhew stood there for a while, frozen as the image of that first young couple flashed before his eyes. Is this truly how far human love can go? To venture into a frontier still untamed, to clash with nature and beasts still unknown, to place yourself at the edges of death and still, among all this suffering, to be able to see light in the form of your loved one? The thought was an anathema to his creed, as the Ixkutans always placed the group before the individual. They saw communities first and foremost, and while they did value personal connections and achievements, everyone and everything worked towards a shared goal, similarly to how organs make up a being, and strive for its wellbeing.
Half an hour had passed after that, thirty minutes which he spent contemplating, his thoughts swirling behind his skull like a whirlpool. It was after that quiet, sombre time that he had found himself sitting on a bench beside Jacob, who had decided to take a short rest near the toilets. Something surged inside Éeyhew, and before he could dwell upon it further, his Universal Translator flared to life. He had told his guide of the small factoid he had read about the city’s name, then about the small glimpses of human romance alongside his own observations: there exists an immeasurable amount of species, most of which are driven by emotions… but is there one which can love the same way humans do?
Jacob began to think once the question was asked, yet it was when Éeyhew gave a few interesting examples that he began to talk as well. Together, they formed a shared pool of knowledge, a treasure trove of facts and reasonable assumptions, which only delved into the topic deeper and deeper.
There was mention of many prominent species, such as the free clans of the Parrkatas, whose matriarchs loved their offspring with all their hearts but switched between seasonal mates like there was no tomorrow. They spoke of the Łaghnians, who once again never chose a partner for life, and the cruel Pobelin slavers with their pseudo-mitosis way of breeding (of which I’d rather not get into the details), where the younger form is only seen as a high-ranking servant. There were also the mysterious Wise Ones, whose minds perceived the universe in ways incomparable to those of other species, and the [UNICODE ERROR], who had made sure that they would never seek companionship on a genetic level, opting to wait out the death of the galaxy in solitude. Hell, even the Alaivanians - for whom fate had chosen minds far more empathetic than those of humans but who held a very similar view on relationships - only spent a few seconds with copulation, which was devoid of any love and adoration.
But why? How could the peoples of the Orion Spur enjoy such pleasures? How come they were allowed to feel love to its fullest, while others always had something to blame for their rejection of the sweetest fruits of life? For example, the famous frugality of the Ixkutans did not come from their belief in idle transcendence. No, it was quite the opposite. Their goal of avoiding desire was built into their genome over the last millions of years, a biological side effect shaped through trial and error, by the environment of their world and forces they themselves barely understood. This is how it always had been, and how it always will be, until the stars go cold and there would be nothing left but barren worlds and the empty void.
Jacob didn’t know either. The people of a distant century blamed it on chemicals, on instinct and a primordial need for companionship in the untamed wildernesses of a once savage Earth. But the people of today knew better, he said. Love does not start and end with finding a lifelong partner after all, in fact, it extends to all aspects of human life, and even beyond its confines. It is expressed even when there was no reward to be found, like how one time, a group of monks belonging to the Catholic branch of Earth’s Christian religion once crossed star blockades to reach the war-struck world of Tauberg IV. They then descended upon its ruined cities, tending to the sick, the poor and the wounded, only to leave the world once there was no more love to give. They departed without a word, taking nothing in return.
Of course, the concept of charity wasn’t new to his feathery friend, but rare were the examples when Ixkutans put their lives at risk for others. What isn’t rare, however, are the many other forms human love could appear in. There was, of course, the one others felt towards their partners, the one they held towards their family and the one which the most virtuous had for those in need. But there is also love based on loyalty and trust, love based on pure desires, the love of one’s self, and even playful, light-hearted love, like when Jacob explained he once had what he called a “crush” on a teacher, back when he was just a child. The whole thing never went further than mere thoughts and daydreams, dissipating into a distant, innocent memory as he grew older. Even hatred originates from one’s love for his ideals, his loyalties, his connections.
Éeyhew scratched the top of his head with one of his frontal claws. Such feelings were present in other species as well, yet somehow, in one way or another, something was always absent. The extraterrestrial spirit seemed to have had a piece of it missing, like the denizens of billions of stars were left unfinished on some cosmic craftsman’s table, their mold faulty and imperfect. Everything pointed to some intelligent design, yet if trillions of intelligent minds couldn’t come up with a proper explanation over the millennia, how could a simple, honest businessbird even hope to find out the truth? Or worst of all, how can he now live his life, knowing that he is living in the shadow of a great psychic well, the waters of which he will probably never taste? Jacob had no answer either. He was silent, deep in his thoughts as he considered his reply. He held no contempt for aliens, didn’t wish to insult him, nor influence him, yet in the end, after a minute or so of awkward silence, he said his piece: if Éeyhew can truly feel – not just know – the difference between his love and that of man’s, then perhaps, despite the odds, he could bring much needed change? The task wouldn’t be changing the galaxy, heaven forbid, but something small, something that can be done in a single lifetime.
There wasn’t much time to think after that. The museum’s intercom announced the building’s closure for the day, and the pair quickly made their way back to their suites. They shared a firm handshake that night, both of them thanking the other for the pleasant conversation, before going to sleep.
Éeyhew met Jacob several times throughout the trip, but never found time again for further discussions. He was forced to keep his feelings to himself, contemplating the most while lying in bed - an act that made him lose quite a large amount of rest. Even when he drifted into sleep, he dreamed uncertain dreams, ones he could never remember yet that seemed too real to have been his imagination and too fake to maintain their illusions.
Eventually, the Corporation’s dealings came to an end, alongside his visit to the pearl in the void that was Centuria. He said one final thank you to Jacob before leaving for orbit, where he glanced at Esther’s shroud of light, which stretched through humble hills for many miles before meeting the gentle waves of her bay. In that moment, Éeyhew’s gaze held something more than wonder. It was understanding, although of what exactly, not even I can say. His mind was still that of an Ixkutan after all.
The journey back was uneventful, despite Éeyhew’s sudden, often unprompted acts of affection he made towards his colleagues, which surprised many of his peers. Even when he finally returned home, he seemed to have entered a state of ecstasy, one that piqued the curiosity of those around him, but which was tame enough not to make him a target of ridicule. Then, he returned home, finding his partner busy with the chores, who greeted him in the usual, polite way, like he hadn’t just crossed light-years on the trip of a lifetime. Éeyhew said no word back. He simply approached her and with some hesitation, gently pressed his beak against her cheek, while murmuring a simple confession of love. He swore that in that moment, he could see her blushing under her feathers, embarrassed and charmed at the same time, as her husband looked deep into her eyes, happy that he had brightened the star inside her.