"The Artist and the Alien" by Sara Shay is excerpted from the science-fiction romance, Christophina's Wings. This excerpt was one of the top two stories in the February contest. Find out where to find the full book HERE.
Tag: Love in both virtual and other space.
This is a pair of excerpts from the sci-fi romance Christophina’s Wings. Christophina lives on a space station and has a shop in a virtual world called StarCity, where she sells accessories for well-dressed avatars. At the start of the book, she meets Xenix, who takes the absurd shape of a little green spaceman. He’s mesmerized by her starscape wallpaper, and from there a friendship forms…
This is Part Two.
"The Artist and the Alien by Sara Shay"
Image Description: An unusual piece of futuristic art. The piece looks like stacked chunks of green glass decorated with purple amethyst against a gray background.
Credit: Google DeepMind / Pexels
Part Two: Glove Service
I renn into my shop with my new gloves on and go about the room touching everything. I can feel the fabric of the gloves contract slightly and brush against my skin everywhere my hands come against a virtual object.
Xenix immediately Whispers me. “You’re here! Are you in the shop?”
“I am.”
“Go outside and look next door. I’ll be right over.”
I go outside and see that the vacant lot just by mine is no longer vacant. What was dull gray-brown ground is now textured with neatly trimmed grass. There’s a three-story glass building with a picture over the door of a face vomiting leaves and vines in a very classical sculpture sort of way. Below it, it reads GREEN MAN GALLERY.
Xenix renns in just by the doorway, wearing a plaid trilby. “There you are! What do you think?”
“I think your gallery could do with some art.”
“Precisely! You’ve got some very nice wall art suitable for decorating the homes of fashionable avies. You can put it all here, so you’ll have more room for wings and things. I can advertise for a grand opening art show, so it won’t cost you anything, and if people want to wander over to your store, all the better.”
“Why are you doing this?” I blurt out. Annamaree’s offer made sense; this one seems too good to be true.
“Because that’s what friends do. Do you not want me to?”
“No, I mean I do and thank you and I don’t even know what to say.”
“You’re welcome,” he says. “Now, how much art do you have? Do you have any sculptural pieces?”
“No, but I can make them now.” I hold my hands out and up and wiggle my fingers.
“No, but I can make them now.” I hold my hands out and up and wiggle my fingers.
“That’s a hard thing to do with a controller. Do you have gloves now?”
I clap them together lightly as if applauding him.
He smiles broadly. “Aces! Can I touch them?”
I hold my hands out towards him and bend down a little so he can reach them more easily.
“No, no, straighten up,” he says. He points with two fingers upward and slowly rises until his hands are at the level of mine. “Palms down to start, if you could.”
I hold my hands out, palms down, in front of me. I tilt my head down so I can see my virtual hands with my visor. Xenix runs his fingertips against the backs of my hands and the gloves respond and stroke my hands accordingly.
“Didja feel that?” he asks.
I nod vigorously enough that I’m quite sure he can see it.
He brushes my downward facing palms, and the sensation catches me by surprise. I gasp out loud.
“Did I just tickle you?” His look is one of wonder.
I nod again.
He looks at one of his hands and turns it around and back again. “I never realized these things could be so sensitive.” He puts his hands on his belly and delicately runs them down. “That is bizarre. I can feel it and yet I can’t feel it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, my real belly isn’t that big. So I’m holding my hands out in space and feeling something that isn’t there, but I can look through my visor and there it is and I’m not making a bit of sense, am I?”
“You are making sense. May I play with your hands?”
Xenix gives me a delighted smile. “I would love for you to play with my hands.”
He holds them out to me and I carefully grasp them. Manipulating objects in a virtual space is like handling balloons—press a little and you’ll feel something, press harder and you’ll feel more, press beyond that and all the resistance vanishes. I gently grasp his hands and then let go so I can trace his hands with my fingertips all over. I pause to tickle his palms and he smiles again, a very secretive smile.
Somewhere along the line, it becomes something mutual and unspoken, and we touch our fingertips to each other’s and rub the backs of our hands against each other’s and point fingers so the other one can play with it alone. It becomes almost erotic in a weird kind of way. Are we virtually making out? It’s the closest thing to it I’ve done since I left Earth.
He gives my finger one last light squeeze and takes a deep and sudden breath. “Right. That’s all right. As much as I’d love to keep doing this, I know you have work to do. How much wall art do you have? D’ya think it could fit in this place I’ve got?”
About the Author
Sara Shay lives with bipolar disorder in a city that didn’t exist until 2005. She writes the way others drink and smoke—as a compulsive habit that eases the pain of daily living. Her first novel, Christophina’s Wings, is available at Amazon, Apple Books, and her own website.
Social Media: On Bluesky as @wonderbink.bsky.social and Mastodon as @wonderbink@sunny.garden.
Website: sarashay.com
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