Four

Immediately after Elsa fell asleep, Joseph convened an urgent meeting to map out their plan for the coming days. His objective was clear: to achieve success as swiftly as possible. There had been a lot of years, his partner was unconscious. He was alone from that time. Now he wants her back, so he needed to do this process quickly. But it was obvious, he can’t tell Elsa about it.

His strategy involved a rigorous study of the human heart. An alien would be implanted with a heart and spend fifteen days on Earth to determine if this heart would be beneficial to his people. This was a critical task. Joseph had anticipated the process would take two days, but he underestimated Elsa’s efficiency. He did not foresee that she would stretch one day’s work into a week and the next into two weeks. She lacked the stamina of these aliens, who could endure twelve-hour lab shifts without pause.

Their schedule was peculiar. The next morning would commence fourteen hours later, and work would start sixteen hours after that. In their time cycle, one day was only fourteen hours long instead of the standard twenty-four. The human heart was preserved in a glass-like metal box, its rhythmic beating visible through the glass wall. Initially, Joseph planned to study the heart to replicate it for creating obedient slaves. However, he reconsidered. Observing Earth’s inhabitants, he suspected that their apparent laziness might be linked to their hearts. He decided to experiment first—perhaps this heart would not render them as ineffective as the people of Earth.

Four hours before Elsa’s wake-up time, Joseph returned to her quarters. She was still deeply asleep.

“Get up, Anna,” he ordered, taking a seat on the sofa. He knew she wouldn’t wake easily. Even once she was awake, she’d likely laze about. She slowly opened her eyes, then shut them again.

“I’m awake, just closing my eyes,” she mumbled. Joseph, noting her eyes still closed, persisted.

“If you’re awake, then get up.”

“I’ll be up in ten minutes,” she replied groggily.

“What’s going to happen in ten minutes?” Joseph’s tone was impatient.

“You wouldn’t understand, so just shut up, Alien,” Elsa retorted.

Joseph was taken aback by her insolence. They were centuries ahead of her, yet she mocked him for not understanding.

‘Get up.” His tone was commanding this time.

“Can’t you be quiet for five minutes?” she snapped, finally sitting up.

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten you’re speaking to an alien,” he said, frowning.

“Oh, where did you learn that? It’s amusing. I didn’t think human attitude would suit you so well,” she said with a smirk.

“Of course, from you,” he shrugged.

“I also learned,” he added. “I picked up more from you while you were asleep.”

“When will you learn alien manners? You should have asked me,” she said, glaring at him.

Joseph shrugged again. Elsa laughed out loud. He had truly mastered every trick.

“You know, talking to you feels like talking to myself,” she remarked. Joseph remained silent, rarely answering everything.

“So today is my first morning on this planet,” she said, stretching and starting to walk around.

He watched her quietly, occasionally glancing at his arm with some surprise. Then he said, “Laugh.”

“What?” she looked at him in confusion.

“Just laugh, like you did before.”

“But why?” she was even more surprised.

“I have a higher energy percentage… listening to your laughter,” he explained.

“Really? How can that be?” She laughed again, more heartily this time.

“Are you an alien or a comedian?” she teased.

As she continued laughing, Joseph took two steps closer to her.

“See this.” Joseph extended his hand, revealing a device resembling a watch but with an intricately engraved round screen. Elsa stared at it, puzzled.

“Look, the energy percentage is rising,” he said, pointing to the rapidly changing engravings.

“Oh God… So, the sound of laughter increases your energy percentage?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes. Just as Earth has a battery percentage, so does our energy percentage,” he confirmed.

“Are you all batteries?” she asked, intrigued by this new revelation.

She threw her head back and laughed again. Joseph smiled, watching his energy gauge rise.

“By God, stay with me always, so I don’t need to recharge for a month,”

“Oh God.” she said, imagining him as a power source, and laughed. The door and wall, seemingly lifeless, were astonished and began to converse.

“What is this? Why does he sound like a heartthrob?” a voice emanated from the door.

The vase, which appeared lifeless, joined the conversation. “He’s just saying what needs to be said.”

“You don’t know, these are all excuses to keep someone. If not for this excuse, there would be another. Joseph has become accustomed to this insanity, and habits don’t require a heart. Remember, a habit is a form of love,” said a heavy book from the closet, speaking in a scholarly tone. These objects weren’t mere inanimate items but sentient beings with their own world where they could express themselves freely.

Their discussion continued as Joseph observed Elsa. He had left her room but was now replaying the moments they had shared in his mind, not needing a camera to recall them.

“Hurry up, Anna… Be ready,” he called from a distance as Elsa lay on a half-tilted sofa, engrossed in a novel.

“Don’t call me Anna,” she snapped, clearly irritated by the name. She just called herself Anna and was very upset at someone else's call. On the other hand, he shrugged.

“Get ready quickly. Everyone is waiting in the lab. Being late doesn’t suit a teacher.”

“Okay,” she said reluctantly, moving towards the closet when Joseph’s voice echoed in her ears again.

“You’re not going to my wedding.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

“Wait, I’m coming,” he said. Hearing his voice, she took the novel comfortably and lay back on the sofa.

Shortly afterward, Joseph entered as usual. The novel slipped from her hand and fell to the floor.

“What the hell,” she muttered regretfully, her gaze shifting to the book. She froze, her mouth open in shock. There was someone else with Joseph. She screamed and took a step back.

“This… who… who is this?” she stammered, her eyes wide with fear.