by Louise Wise
He banged his head on the pane again.
‘I don’t think he understands why he can’t stick his head through it, it being transparent and all,’ she said.
Fly pulled up his trousers. ‘He understands. They’re more intelligent than you think.’
Jenny grunted in reply as she removed herself to the bathroom where she dropped the blanket and pulled on clothes. When she came out, Fly and Bo were walking up the hill. Fly was tall against Bo’s stooped stance.
She had breakfast all ready when Fly returned, but he had a look about him that sank Jenny’s heart.
‘What! You’ve seen others?’ “Others” had soon become another name for Jelvias.
‘No,’ he was quick to reassure her. ‘Bo has…’ he broke off and scratched his head. ‘I’m sorry, Jenny but he’s killed Lulu.’
As Jenny named food and objects from Earth she also named animals, and Lulu was one of Jenny’s cows. It seemed to recognise her when she came into their enclosure and bayed when she left.
‘Oh, no!’
‘And Harry and Potter.’
She giggled.
‘You’re not sad?’
‘No, well, yes, but I love hearing you say English names. Harry Potter’s a bunch of classic books I think every child has read.’
Fly frowned as he tried to follow her conversation. In the end, he shook his head. ‘I don’t understand, but what I do know is that Bo has to go home before he kills our entire herd.’
‘I agree. Has he eaten the cows he’s killed?’
Fly sat on the rickety stool in the kitchen as Jenny served up their food.
‘One of them. He made a fire behind the old house. The other two he’s buried. It’s what they do to preserve the meat.’
‘I guess we should have seen that coming. I mean, that’s walking meat in abundance to him.’
They took their food into the other room. The fire had been allowed to die off in the living room as the heat from the kitchen was enough to warm the entire house.
‘I’ll try and get him in the boat today. If he can kill three large animals, he’s well enough for the journey.’
For the rest of the day Jenny watched Fly try to encourage Bo into the boat for his ride across the river—it was unsuccessful. Bo, although shorter than Fly, was stocky with solid muscle and couldn’t be forced, neither could he be persuaded to walk through the walkway, which was just a narrow tunnel in the rock that separated them from the beach. The sound of the ocean was just too scary for the honnard.
By the end of the day Fly was forced to admit defeat, and that night they locked him in the old house and endured his howling.
As the days passed, Fly was contemplating finishing the bridge just to get Bo home. The last resort was, that Fly would inject some of his venom into Bo to disable him unconscious but it was risky and could involve his death.
***
Jenny dropped another stone on her collection. Fly looked up at her; he was crouched at her feet counting the piles. ‘230,’ he said, looking up.
She met his eyes with a sense of excitement. ‘Add that to the length of time where I didn’t know I was pregnant. Say, another twenty days. I guess…’ she closed her eyes as she made a mental calculation. ‘Normally, it’s 266 approx on Earth, but Eden has a longer day, so, erm…’ her eyes flashed open. ‘Don’t suppose you have a calculator?’
‘What’s that?’
Using his shoulder to cling to, she knelt beside him and drew her calculation in the grainy ground as Fly watched.
‘If this is right, I’m due any time now.’ She bit a fingernail. ‘Oh, my god.’ They looked at one another. Bo howled from inside the house, but used to his noise, both ignored him.
‘No symptoms of labour?’ Fly asked.
She shook her head.
Fly stood up, and held out his hand to her. She took it and was brought to her feet. She knew he was worried about her. She squeezed his hand. ‘Women go over their due date all the time, and anyway, I may have the calculations wrong.’
‘I wish Bodie and Matt were here,’ he said, at last.
She leaned her head against his shoulder. ‘It’ll be fine. Stop worrying.’ They walked casually back to their house. It was a beautiful spring day and the suns were shining. ‘Are you still going fishing?’ she asked. An inlet of seawater was left at low tide, and because Eden had eight moons this didn’t happen very often, so they liked an easy fishing opportunity when it occurred. Usually, it was something that Jenny did on her own.
‘Maybe not this time.’ Lately, Fly hadn’t wanted to leave her side and if she was honest, she was grateful. ‘I want to give Bo another try in the boat.’
‘It’ll be a shame to miss the tide. Please, let’s fish. I’ve an idea about Bo, which we can play out later.’ She hadn’t been to the beach since the bird attack and felt it was about time.
‘Sure?’
‘I’m feeling restless, anyway.’ It was true, she’d tidied the house until she was sick of it and deliberately made it messy again. She’d folded and unfolded the baby clothes, lovingly made by herself, and placed them at the bottom of the crib. Fly had been very proud of it when he brought the crib in from the barn where he’d spent many nights secretly making it; she knew he had been making one but not as beautiful as this. It was a work of art.
‘That might be a sign,’ Fly said. He was always looking for signs that she was going into labour.
They reached the barn and she stood back as Fly pulled open the doors. Inside, pinned to the wall was the still slimy fishing net. He slung it around his shoulders, then picked up the large bucket. ‘Sure you want to come?’
She nodded. ‘I’ll help.’
He looked at her stomach. ‘You’re too fat.’
‘I can still catch fish. And for that, I’ll catch more than you!’
He smiled and held out his hand. ‘That’s a challenge I can’t miss.’
Laughingly, they strolled across their prairie and through the walkway.
‘So, what idea do you have for getting Bo across the river?’
‘Well, it isn’t much of one, but if I’m supposed to be some kind of goddess what if I’m on the other side? Maybe I can tempt him across?’
‘Worth a try.’
‘It’s quite warm today,’ Jenny said, and lifted her face to one of the suns. Its heat was weak but it felt nice on her skin. Once on the beach, she waddled over to a large rock, took off the fur around her shoulders and spread it over. She sat on it and watched as Fly walked down to the tide pool and the wriggling fish it contained.
‘Are there a lot there?’ she called.
‘Probably enough to last up until the next tide.’ He slipped the net under the fish, then took the bucket down to the sea and filled it with water. When he came back, he scooped up a good amount of fish and deposited them in the bucket. He wore just a pair of old raggy cut-off trousers and nothing else despite the glaciers sparkling on the blue ocean and the patches of snow on the land, not that Jenny was complaining. She watched him appreciatively as he worked to fill the bucket with fish.
As if sensing her gaze he looked up. ‘Thought you’d challenged me to collect more fish?’
‘In my condition?’
They grinned at one another, then Jenny said, ‘Do you think we should do something about the boat? You know, hide it.’
Fly straightened and looked at the boat behind him, pulled up high on the shore.
‘It won’t fit through the walkway,’ he said. ‘I’ll have to break it up.’
‘It took ages to make.’ She scratched her bulging stomach as baby Diana’s foot pushed outward. ‘We could hide it?’ she said.
‘Where?’ He looked around at the empty beach, and then cocked his head at her.
‘You’re not a very smart alien, are you?’
He looked at her in mock hurt.
She laughed. ‘Turn the boat over and cover it with rocks and seaweed,’ she said. ‘Simple.’
He
looked at her as she settled against the rock. ‘And you’re a very clever alien,’ he said. He stepped out of the knee-deep tidewater and went towards her with a suggestive smile playing on his face, Jenny giggled, and then he was leaning over her, his hands either side of her head, his hips fitting perfectly between her legs.
She grinned up at him, and he dropped a kiss on her nose.
‘Don’t you have a boat to hide?’ she teased as he, one-handed, tugged at his cut-off shorts. Free, he lifted her sarong-like skirt, and entered her gently and smoothly. ‘What if a bird comes?’ she muttered, closing her eyes. Her hands clutched at the fur spread out on the rock behind her. She couldn’t hold him as tightly as she would have liked because of her belly.
‘Might teach it new words,’ he replied hoarsely, as he very gently, thrust in and out. Their lovemaking was tender, and when he’d emptied into her, he pulled out and leaned down to nuzzle her neck. Then he straightened her sarong and pulled up his shorts, and turned towards the boat.
‘That was very wham bam thank you ma’am,’ she said. She’d spoken in English, and he pulled a face, telling her he didn’t understand. ‘I feel used.’ She sat up on her elbows as she watched him lift the boat over with a grunt. The muscles in his arms and back became pronounced and she marvelled at his strength. His back was riddled with old scars, but there was no mistaking the strength there. He set about placing rocks and seaweed around the boat to make it blend in with the surroundings, and was unaware of her appraisal.
Finished, he picked up the bucket with the wriggling fish and turned towards Jenny. ‘You look flushed, are you all right?’
‘As if you didn’t know, you tease.’
‘You are speaking in riddles,’ he said. ‘I’ll empty this lot in the trough and come back for more. Will you stay here?’
‘Think I might go for a swim.’
As usual, her sarcasm was lost on him.
‘I’m joking! Go, I’ll be fine.’
‘You have your whistle, and I have mine.’ He lifted his from around his neck and blew gently into it.
‘Hey,’ she shouted to his back as he strode up the beach, ‘bring back some food? I’m peckish.’
He blew into the whistle in answer and she laughed, and then he resumed his long stride up the beach slopping seawater over the edge of the bucket. Jenny watched him disappear into the walkway. She lay back on the rock and began to draw up her knees forgetting her swollen stomach, she lowered them again and sat up. She walked down to the sea edge. She had nothing on her feet, and the water was icy on her toes. It felt invigorating, and she walked in further until it was up to her ankles. She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the smell of the ocean. It smelled just like home.
She turned back towards the rock again, and saw that there was part of the boat that Fly had missed. She moved towards it and bent to pick up a handful of seaweed, and slapped it against the boat. She looked around for small rocks. Spotting one, she walked briskly towards it, a little too briskly as she felt a twinge in her stomach. The pain was sharp and felt so unlike how she thought a contraction might feel that she stopped walking and held her breath until the pain subsided.
‘Oh wow,’ she said, as realisation dawned.
Walking slowly, she edged over to the rock-covered boat, and leaned against it. In the distance, along the shoreline, she saw a tall figure, and could just make out Fly’s long black hair.
Fly’s long black hair?
She looked across at the walkway where he’d gone only a few moments ago, and then back at the figure walking half on the beach, half in the sea. Another pain hit her. She breathed out, then sucked in her breath as another contraction wracked her body. She felt something ‘give’ deep inside and then felt wetness between her legs. It was followed by a deep pain in her back, which ebbed away like the waves on the ocean.
Holding her stomach, she edged around the covered boat, but only got halfway as another contraction filled her body. She bit back on a scream, and through her pain looked over at the stranger on the beach, and realised, if she could see him, he could see her.
She crouched awkwardly, and moved around the upturned boat, just as a whistle sounded in the walkway—Fly, the real Fly, was returning. He was whistling a tune.
The stranger on the beach wasn’t looking in her direction, but out to sea, so probably the wind was taking the noise away from him. She crawled to the end of the boat ready to signal Fly when he came out of the cave’s entrance, but another contraction took her breath away, and all she could do was grit her teeth and wait for it to pass.
She saw that the stranger was standing still. His head held at a tilt as he listened to Fly’s whistle, which he could now, obviously, hear. He began to run to where he thought the noise was coming, and it was right where Jenny was hiding. She ducked down, and looked in distress at the cave’s walkway. The whistling was louder as Fly came nearer, then he appeared carrying her fruit-collecting basket. The boat was in direct line of the walkway to their home, and so Fly’s eyes fell on her immediately. On seeing her lying there, the whistle dropped from his mouth and he tossed the basket to one side and began to run.
She shook her head at him, and gestured wildly to the stranger running up the shoreline. Then bit back a squeal as another contraction, harder than before, swamped her body.
Fly swivelled around, Jenny could see his throat already contracting as if he expected to see another bird. The shock on his face was stark, as was the shock on the stranger’s face when he came to a shuddering halt a few metres from the boat.
The two men stared at one another, then the stranger shot his venom at Fly without notice. It hit Fly squarely in the face, piercing his cheekbone, but the toxin wasn’t harmful and it didn’t harm Fly. Jenny’s scream was involuntary as he stumbled backwards from the momentum of the attack. The stranger looked towards the boat where she was hiding and broke into a run towards it. Fly regained his composure and fired his own venom at the Jelvia. The man dodged but continued to run forwards as Jenny cowered behind the boat. As he came near, Jenny noticed the light in his black eyes.
They were animated. Thrilled.
Chapter Sixteen
Fly ran towards the upturned boat where Jenny was sheltering. Pain and fear were etched on her face. She was limp against the rocks; one hand on her swollen stomach, the other she was using to gesture franticly.
He looked over expecting to see a bird, but a Jelvia was pounding up the sand, his claws extended and jaw thrust forward as venom pumped out, machine gun style, towards Fly. This was a killing machine. Fly took a direct hit from the bullet-like substance, and staggered backwards, hearing Jenny scream—whether it was because he’d been hit or she was in pain he couldn’t tell. More venom-like bullets pierced his skin causing blood to spill. He fired back, allowing all his previous training to take over. There was no doubt in his mind that he had to kill this stranger.
Fly ran at the man with a roar that was both rage and alarm. With his claws extracted, he swung his hand, and as Fly countered, the stranger jumped to block the move. Fly allowed the man to think he had the upper hand, and let the motion swing him around, until mid-swing he ducked and head-butted the Jelvia in the stomach, causing them both to fall. A blanket of sand rose up at their dive and for a moment, everything disappeared from view.
Fly’s hands found the stranger’s neck and kept him on the ground using his knees to press on the Jelvia’s upper arms and prevent him from moving. The man’s lower body twisted and turned, but Fly ignored the movement and thrust his claws into the man’s flesh. He felt wind escape the Jelvia’s oesophagus as he sliced through the windpipe, and then tore out the remainder of his throat.
Fly climbed off the limp body and turned simultaneously towards the rock-covered boat where Jenny was lying. He started when he saw her crawling up the beach towards him, a large stone in her hand.
He ran towards her, dropping to his knees. ‘You’re hurt? Jenny?’
She was crying, and
babbling gibberish about how she thought she’d lost him, and that the Jelvia was going to kill them both.
‘Jenny!’
She shook her head. ‘Baby,’ she said, and gasped. ‘It’s coming.’
He scooped her up and carried her towards home. Even though he felt assured she wasn’t injured, he felt he had to get her somewhere safe and he didn’t believe they were protected in their house anymore.
‘The others… they f-found us,’ she said as he shoved open the door to their once believed sanctuary.
He didn’t answer her, but laid her on the settee, and dashed around the house gathering a few belongings they’d need for the baby, plus extra for Jenny should they not be able to return home as soon as they’d like. He shoved them into a net bag. In the barn, he dragged out the boat and carried it to the river. He dropped it in and loosely tied the rope around an exposed tree root.
He looked at the old house where Bo was contained. All was silent. Fly ran over and opened the door. The honnard had been asleep, but woke as he heard the door open.
‘You’re on your own,’ Fly said. ‘Should’ve gone when you had the chance.’
Bo chuffed at him, but Fly turned and ran back to Jenny. She’d swung her legs off the settee and looked to be trying to stand. She looked pale and frightened.
‘Fly—’ she said, but a contraction whipped her words away.
There wasn’t much time. He grabbed up the net bag and dumped it in Jenny’s arms, and then he bent to pick her up.
She asked questions, cried and groaned as contractions took hold, but he was so focused on getting her safe, he ignored her. Despite her swollen belly, she was still light, and he ran up the hill and down the other side. As he put her gently into the boat, Bo came down the hill to watch. Fly jumped into the river and proceeded to tow the boat across.
Bo howled.
‘B-Bo’s out,’ Jenny panted her words. ‘He’ll… he’ll k-kill the cows.’
‘Don’t care.’ Fly dragged the boat along and secured it to a protruding shrub root on the other side. He climbed out of the river and bent to lift Jenny. She was crying and blubbering, and her contractions made her helpless.
