Space Aliens, Southerners, and Saving the World

by Ash Leigh O’Rourke

Freaking space aliens.

In a way, it’s kind of a dream to be offered an internship in my field; astrobiology isn't exactly commonplace, sweetie—my southern family likes to find subtle ways to remind me of that. But this dream come true is already turning into a nightmare. I should have realized how impossible it would be to balance an internship I’m totally unqualified for with work, grad school, any kind of friendship, and the omnipresent bodyguard sent over from the research organization—a bodyguard, by the way, who seems to think he's God’s gift to humanity.

And all of that was before I had a target on my back. At this point, if my little team can’t prove that a certain alien species intermingled with humans—the snobbiest of all the alien species on the big, bad intergalactic council in my humble, human opinion—the earth is scheduled for demolition. Oh, and did I mention that the interstellar elitists have started sending assassins after me?

Wish me luck, I guess.