by Vicky L Holt
I exhaled and shook my hands out. Naraxthel closed his panel and raised his eyes to me.
“Hicondo,” he said, and started walking through a tunnel. He secured his helmet as he walked.
I caught myself admiring his posture. I smirked, remembering my track-and-field hijinks in college. The tall lithe athletes always did catch my eye. I tried to imagine any of my old boyfriends facing that pack of slavering reptiles and couldn’t. My alien was one of a kind. I shook my head and patted my pockets, assuring myself I had collected my things. I studied his broad shoulders a couple seconds. This was ridiculous, I was not walking behind him. I jogged to catch up.
“Hey,” I said and cleared my throat.
He glanced at me.
“Uh.” Crap, what was the word for water? “Hohishe?”
His stride faltered. He stopped and turned, looking down at me.
I wished I could see his eyes; the glowing red ones unnerved the hell out of me.
With deliberate motions, he removed his pouch and released the cap with a pinch. He offered it to me.
My fingers trembled for some reason as I unfastened my helmet.
The breach in my suit had my IntraVisor blinking alarms all over the place, but there was nothing for it now. I’d already removed my helmet and I hadn’t died yet. The tear in my sleeve might be fixable with some of the carbon-polymer tape back at the EEP, but who knew when I would get there again.
We stood in the tunnel, our helmet lights outlining each of our shadows in grotesque display. Red’s shadow was enormous, since my light was at my waist.
I took the offered pouch and drank, my throat working to swallow as much as I could and my eyes closing in rapture. The water was sweet compared to the recycled swamp muck in my EEP. I pulled the nozzle away from my lips and opened my eyes.
Red’s helmet was off. His stare brought heat from my neck up to my hairline.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my glove and handed the pouch back to him. “Thanks.” My voice was raspy.
Without breaking his gaze, he lifted the pouch and drank from it, his wide mouth enclosing the nozzle where my lips had been. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the bobbing of his throat as he drank. He withdrew the nozzle and licked his lips with a deep-pink tongue.
I felt my eyes grow wide. I looked away and down, blinking fast. I stole another peek at him.
He pinched the cap back on the pouch and stowed it at his side amongst the other items in his harness.
My heart picked up its pace, but I ignored any significance from it.
We replaced our helmets, and he gestured to the trail we followed. Before I took my first step, he placed his hand upon the bulb of my helmet. “Zagoshe.” Then he pointed to his own light. “Zagoshe.”
“Light,” I said, pointing to my own.
His lips pulled into a smile, revealing his white fangs. “Lll-eye-t,” he repeated.
“Yes!”
We smiled and began walking side by side.
When the tunnel narrowed, he patted the wall and said, “Naxaxza.”
I patted the wall on my side. “Naxaxza?”
“Ik.” He rapped it with his knuckle as we walked on. “Naxaxza.”
I thought he was saying wall, but I couldn’t be sure. Maybe he was saying tunnel. Or rock. Hell, maybe he was saying, “Having some little girl tag along sucks.” I wondered how VELMA was doing with her covert mission, but I knew she would tell me when she succeeded.
I tripped over a rock and stumbled. Red caught my arm but released it as soon as I stood. “Thanks.” I bent to retrieve it and hefted it in my hand. A cursory study showed it to be limestone. “Rock,” I told him.
“Ah. Laveltrax.”
“Laveltrax.” I remembered how smooth his blade drove into the rocks. Limestone was soft, but not butter-soft. “Um, can I see your blade again?” I reached out and patted the dagger he sheathed in a thigh harness.
He pulled it out and handed it to me hilt first.
I smiled and took it, then held the rock against the wall. I positioned the blade as if to cut an apple and clove the limestone in two. “Wow.”
“Heh. Do raxtheza nax laveltrax.”
I returned his knife to him and unsnapped my multitool. “Watch my blade,” I said. “It should scratch it.” Carboniferous limestone, especially Tula, could be a five on Moh’s scale, but not any higher. My tool should be able to do a bit of damage to it. I sawed at the rock, and dust fell away. I shrugged and offered him my tool, so he could see the metal.
He took it and inspected it under his light. “Ah. Rax bi ropazathelvelt.” He compared the metal of my tool and then the metal of his purple dagger. “Woaiquovelt.”
I touched the flat of his blade with my glove. If I was understanding correctly, he was comparing the two metals. I grasped the tool. “Multitool.” I showed him the pliers, the screwdriver, the utility blade, the soldering tip and the Galvanite awl.
“Ik. Naxl.” He flipped a pocket open on one of his many packs and pulled out something similar but obviously made for his much larger hands. He offered it to me.
I held it, delighted at how light it was. It didn’t gleam purple like his dagger. I raised my brows and asked him. “It’s not the same metal?”
“I.” He jabbed at his multi-tool. “Rax bi ropazathelvelt.” Then he ran a finger along his blade. His voice softened. “Woaiquovelt.”
“Wow.” I felt my face grow warm. I didn’t know why I couldn’t think of anything else to say. It’s not like it mattered. He wouldn’t know. And yet my profundity knew no bounds. “Cool.”
We stashed our tools once again, and I let the rock tumble to the ground.
My mind raced as we walked along. The cave left little to talk about. Rocks, walls. Light. We’d compared tools. And some food earlier. My ears burned and my face flushed as we walked side by side in a wide tunnel; there were always body parts.
I swallowed and kept my mouth shut.
And sneezed.
38
Yasheza Mahavelt puzzled me. She had ceased speaking with the technology in her helmet. I longed to ask her why. I longed for many things. I searched my mind for words we might share. An empty cave in the belly of a mountain did not lead to stimulating conversation.
When my tracker indicated we had traveled three hundred veltiks, I deemed it necessary to make camp. I knew this place and felt chills along my arms when I anticipated Esra’s reaction to it.
“Here.” I pulled the latch that adhered my packs to my suit, and everything dropped to the floor. I had scanned repeatedly for agothe-faxl. It was clear for now, but the roaming band of agothe-faxl in rut had thrown me off guard. They should not be rutting for another moon at least.
I swept pebbles from an area by the alcove with my boot. Some splashed in the pool, and I watched Esra. She heard the splashes and looked to the pool. The rocks disturbed the little water Suns, so they glowed. I waited until she approached the pool to stick the bead light upon the cave wall.
I watched her mouth break into a wide smile and her eyes light from within. I felt a stuttering within my heart-home and grasped my chest in surprise. It abated, and my breaths returned to normal.
Words spilled from Esra’s mouth, among them, hohishe. I smiled.
She didn’t wait to pull off her helmet and removed her gloves next. She strode to the edge and looked up at me as if to request permission.
“Yes. The water is safe.” I gestured she could touch it. I pulled off my own gloves and helmet, placing them alongside the alcove wall. When I turned, I caught her staring at my hands. I looked down and examined them as if through her eyes.
Scarring marred the green skin, great gashes and crosshatching revealed many cycles of hunting, sparring and fighting. My dull black claws jutted mercilessly from my fingertips. I couldn’t remember what her hands looked like, so when I knelt beside the pool to run my fingers through the glowing water, I studied hers with a frank gaze.
The pale skin appeared l
ighter in the glow of the little water suns. Her nails were colorless and short. Ineffective. I swallowed and looked down at my own again. Hers were ineffective against the beasts of my planet, yes. But I considered the little tool she’d shown me and how she manipulated the moving parts with her small fingers. The Goddesses formed her as she should be for her purpose. Ever had I known my purpose was to kill and serve the Ikma of my people. I had yet to learn the Goddesses’ purpose for Esra. It must be different, and I would be a wise disciple of the Goddesses to remember that.
A splash of water jolted me from my thoughts. Esra wore an impish grin as she squatted by the pool. My eyes traced the line of her curved back and hind end. She was even more small in the pose. Her smile wavered then disappeared. I had waited too long. She worried she offended me.
What could I do? I used my large hand to splash a wave into her face. She fell back, spluttering and gasping.
“Naraxthel!” Her shout amused me, but I couldn’t resist the urge to peer into the depths of the tunnel beyond for interlopers.
I heard her gasp. When I looked, her hand covered her mouth and water dripped from her lashes. I gestured for her to calm. “It is safe.” I cocked my head. “Ahh. No agothe-faxl. Safe.”
She let her hand drop, and a small smile appeared. I smiled at her and reached for the water.
“No! No hohishe!”
I laughed at her round eyes and leaned to drink from the pool. Its flavor on my tongue brought happy memories. I slurped greedily, then let my gaze drift to the soft traveler.
She looked on with mouth agape and large eyes. I recalled she had bathed in a similar pool. She must not have drunk the water. I made my hands into a bowl shape, scooped some water and offered it to her to drink.
Her brows rose and her eyes darted between my own, doubting. She leaned toward my hands and used her small ones to hold mine and lift them gently to her lips. She took a small sip. I held my breath. My skin seemed to tingle where her lips touched my fingers. The only sounds in the cave were gentle drips from the water and my armor creaking as I moved. I could hear Esra’s breaths. They were shallow and erratic. I did not mistake the fragrance wafting from her skin, but I ignored it. For now.
She puzzled her brows and pursed her lips, then licked them. I mirrored her actions before I realized it. She cocked her head and grimaced. “Tooosalltee.”
I shrugged and quaffed the rest of the liquid in my hands, never letting my eyes leave her face. She watched me as well, and I felt my skin heat under her scrutiny. My heart hammered as if I were battling the rokhura, yet I squatted here beside the johohishe Shegoshel pool in complete safety. Perhaps my heart was not safe from the Soft Traveler. The myths … but that was nonsense.
I sat in the pose of the young student and unpacked more food and my fire kit. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed her watching me. I frowned, realizing I took more care with each motion, the unwrapping of the bread, the stacking of the slender fire sticks. I was a Mighty Hunter. It did not matter what this little female thought of me. I growled at myself. I heard her chuckle, so I shot her a glare.
She coughed into her hand and sat across from me, unpacking her own bag. Redness bloomed on her neck and cheeks when she pulled out a pouch and spilled dark-green seed pods upon the rock floor. She offered me the pods. I smiled.
“Ah! Talafa! Food from the black tree. It tastes good with rokhura meat.” Her brows pulled together, so I held up a finger. I pulled a rasher of dried meat from a pack and placed it beside the pods. “It’s good. Very good together.” I grabbed a slice of meat and a small handful of pods and ate them, watching her reaction.
She nodded and ate some talafa, then held the meat up to her nose and inhaled. She would smell the ground kernels of the ikquo plant from my home world. She closed her eyes, breathing deep of the aroma, then took a bite. She chewed with her eyes closed, and I allowed my gaze to drift over the skin of her face. So many soft features. Translucent skin I might tear with a single claw if I weren’t careful. The small nose, the pink lips…her tongue darted out to lick a fleck of pepper and her eyes opened to see me focused intently on her mouth. I had leaned forward with nostrils flaring to smell the fragrance of her.
I sat back and grunted, tearing off a huge bite and chewing.
“Thississgud.” She gestured to the meat and nodded, then took another bite. She liked it. I mimicked her nod.
What else could I teach her of my language? In the absence of trees, flowers, animals and weather, not much was available or interesting. We had a few different names for the rocks and gifts of the mountains, but the subtleties would be lost on her until she had a better grasp of my language. I watched her lick seasoning off her delicate fingers. Ahh.
I swallowed my bite and stroked her hand briefly. “Yaza.”
Her eyes lit up. “Yaza. Hand!”
I smiled and pointed to my eyes. “Azal.”
She pointed to her eye and said, “Aza?” Then pointed to the other. “Aza? Azal?”
“Yes!” I shouted. She understood the multiple.
She laughed, and my heart thudded painfully against its cage. I coughed and pounded my chest as if to force it into submission.
Her brow creased and her mouth turned down.
I brushed my hand down my chest. “Ah, it is nothing.” I pointed to my nose. “Saza.”
“Saza,” she said with a small smile.
I swallowed. Pointed to my mouth. “Paza.”
Her voice lowered a notch. “Paza.”
My gaze drifted to her lips the same time my heart began a faster march. I resisted the urge to press my hand against my chest once more. It would stop. I hoped.
I jerked my eyes away from her lips. “I will teach you the children’s song of the body.” She blinked but said nothing.
I began the song and the hand motions to go along with it.
“My body is big, my body is weapon!
My eyes and hands, hunt! Hunt!
My ears and legs, hunt! Hunt!
See the animal! Touch the animal!
Hear the animal! Hunt the animal!
Drink the animal’s life! I hunt!
My song ended with the dagger angled at Esra’s throat. Her face had drained of color. I panted and sheathed my knife with a chuckle. “It is a child’s song. Just a play song.”
Her halting laugh and uncertain smile revealed she did not understand at all. “Ah,” I said. I looked around the ground near us and found a powdery spot. I withdrew my stylus and drew a crude drawing of the pazathel-nax. I made sure to include the sharp teeth and claws. I sang the song again, more slowly, and pointed to the animal when called to do so. The gestures used many body parts, and it wasn’t long before Esra sang with me.
We ended the song a fourth time with our daggers aimed at each other’s throats. Her laughter unleashed my tethered heart, and its trembling concerned me. I stood. “I go to give water.”
She seemed to understand and looked around as if to choose a spot for herself. I pushed on her shoulders that she would stay. “Do not move.”
I retreated a veltik into the tunnel and ran a scan of my vital signs yet again. Nothing was amiss. I breathed deep of the tunnel air, scenting for agothe-faxl. All clear. I finished my business and returned to Esra. I gestured she could squat down the same tunnel. Her skin flooded with her red blood, changing the white to pink. Its aroma filled my nose.
She walked into the tunnel, and I frowned, grasping my chest. What was this betrayal of my big, strong body? And for how many tiks had I forgotten my brethren, the quest, the Ikma? I only had eyes and attention for the Soft Traveler. I sat with a huff and gnawed further on my meat. My simple life had become a puzzle.
39
I couldn’t help but chuckle. We danced and parried like a couple of kids. I couldn’t remember the last time I had laughed so hard. Furthermore, Red had armed me with a few more words. I knew some of the body parts and the word for fight, kill or hunt. I wasn’t quite sure which one it was, b
ut with a knife aimed at an animal’s neck, I had the gist of it.
I murmured the words as I reattached my many zippers and fasteners.
“Do azal, do yazal, theka! Theka!”
Still smiling, I reentered the alcove Red’s bead light set aglow. Between its brightness and the glowing pool of blue jellyfish, it was cheerful. I should be tired but talking to Red enlivened me. There was so much more I wanted to know. I paused mid-step and considered my crushing depression at being stranded alone was gone. I watched him for a moment. He bowed over something. His immense shoulders rivaled a barrel of propulsion fuel on IGMC’s mothership. While his hands were clawed, his fingers moved deftly to open the ties of his assorted packs.
The scars shocked me when I first spied them. But they resembled the scars on his neck too. His skin, textured like that of a manta ray or shark, fascinated me. I had touched his hands briefly; what would it be like to caress them? I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose. Enough of that. I sat in my place again and watched him clean up his food. He offered me the last bite of jerked meat. I held my hand out, but instead, he placed it at my lips.
The pulse in my throat throbbed. Searching his eyes, I opened my mouth, and he placed the morsel between my teeth. His claw clicked against my teeth. He whispered, “Pazathel,” and ran his tongue over his fangs. I blinked several times and bit down on the food. Hopefully we didn’t just complete some sort of mating ritual, but the cave suddenly felt a thousand degrees and my mind wandered to rabid curiosity about his body beneath his armor. Chills raced up my spine, and I swallowed my bite.
“Thank you,” I said and cleared my throat. I felt blood rushing to my face. I avoided his eyes and tidied up with haste. The meat and talafa filled me, so my foil packet returned to my bag. Flashing orange drew my attention. My helmet blinked erratically.
I grabbed it, fumbled to put it on, and searched the IntraVisor’s messages. “Suit integrity breached. Please return to EEP for possible medical treatment.”
“I’m fine.”
“Solar panels at thirteen percent. Please return to sunlight to charge cells.”
