Found Girl

by Pauline Baird Jones

  “You think I was right to distrust him?”

  “Yes.” And not just because Coop wanted…to kiss her. All over. He freed one hand to rub his face. Pappy’s space, he repeated to himself several times. She still looked a bit anxious and somewhere-else.

  “Arian?” He called her back again. “You left. You won’t have to see him again.” His grandma would have called him out for that. Would have told him to never say never, because that removed the never. Created bad vibes. But this was outer space. You couldn’t just accidentally run into a jerk tooling around. Still wished he had some salt to throw over his shoulder. Or some wood to knock on.

  He turned her face toward his and smiled. “Kinda crazy that being lost in space with us, and surrounded by some possibly hostile ships, looks better than what you left behind.” Certainly put in perspective why she climbed on a ship with a dragon. Didn’t explain the dragon, though.

  “Arian, are you sure his motives are…okay?” Almost without thinking, he lifted her hand and pressed his lips to skin that was softer than he’d have thought a farmer’s hand would be. He meant to lower her hand, but he couldn’t. The taste of her skin was unexpectedly sweet. And the look in her eyes…

  She licked her lips, her gaze focused on his mouth. “Who?”

  “Um…” He forgot the question, instead he tugged her up with him and pulled her into his arms. Nothing seemed to matter but that. He’d been waiting forever for this, for her. She didn’t resist. Might have tried to help. Her chin lifted in an unconscious invitation that it would be rude not to accept…

  She kissed better than the last time. But he already knew she was a fast learner. And yeah, the girl knew how to use her hands. Her head fell back naturally as he traced a path along her jaw and found the tender skin where a pulse beat wildly, let his mouth linger there until her hand tugged him up so their mouths could meet again…

  He gathered her closer, inhaling her, tasting her, teaching and learning…

  Some survival instinct or just his gut kicking pushed them apart. She stared at him, her lips plumped and pink, her gaze dazed.

  “Someone’s coming.” By the time trouble got here, he might even remember their names…

  Color flooded her face, and she turned away from the door, her shoulders rising and falling. Coop pulled up every ice cold memory he could. It helped to remember where he was and who was probably incoming. He gave himself a shake and turned to face the door just as it swished open.

  Pappy stalked in. That’s right. Pappy. The Big Boss of the Boyington. Lucky for them, he was deep in a scowl and didn’t notice the tension in the room. He rounded the desk, went to sit down, and realized they were there. For a minute, Coop thought he was going to order them out. His gaze tracked between them for what felt like a long time. Coop used the moment Pappy was looking at Arian to sneak a look, too. She’d pulled herself together pretty well.

  With something between a grunt and sigh, he gestured at the chairs and dropped in his, leaning back to rub his face. He lowered his hand and looked at Arian again.

  “Apparently they are…willing to host a small delegation on their planet. The impression your…dragon has is that we’d be wise to be willing to be hosted. If your…if he is translating correctly. He thinks they said something about dinner.” His gaze traveled between them. “He’s not sure if the invitation is to eat dinner. Or be dinner.”

  Arian’s eyes widened.

  He relented some. “If they wanted to eat us, they wouldn’t have to invite us down. Four ships? We couldn’t hold them off for long. Since your lizard is the only one who can talk to them, he’s on the team.”

  “He will need a voice, Colonel,” Arian said.

  She was back in pragmatic.

  “I can be that voice,” Coop protested. Pappy arched a brow. “I wouldn’t ad lib, sir.” Much.

  “I’ll need a pilot, Captain.”

  He was better at flying than talking. “Yes, sir.”

  “I can’t order you to go,” Pappy said.

  “You do not need to order me.” Arian hesitated. “I am not one of your people, but I wish—to help.”

  For the first time, Pappy’s gaze softened as he looked at her. He nodded. “Thank you.”

  15

  Arian studied her image in the reflective surface affixed to the wall. Bosakli did not have many of these surfaces, so she had never seen herself with such specificity before. It was somewhat unnerving. The device was about as merciful as an Enforcer. She tipped her head to one side, then the other. A thin face. Unevenly cut brown hair. Her eyes looked too big for her face and sad. She tried a smile. That helped some, but the eyes. Is that what Coop—

  At the thought of him, the eyes brightened. Other than leaving Bosakli, his kisses were the most pleasing thing she’d experienced. No wonder her eyes looked sad.

  She touched her lips, traced the outline, remembering. Color flowed under her skin and the lips curved under her finger. The eyes turned dreamy. Curiosity had been satisfied, so why did she feel not satisfied? It became difficult to look at herself when longing replaced dreamy in her eyes.

  If she could see this, surely others could? Could they tell that she had been kissed? Did her mouth look different? How could she know when she had not seen it before? She tried straightening her lips, but as soon as she relaxed, they curved up again.

  It had been so very…wild and terrifying and yet she’d felt safe in his arms. The scent of him reminded her of the land after rain. Fresh and earthy and…pleasing. Unlike the first time, this time his touch, his mouth moving on hers was more familiar, increasing her pleasure. His heart had pounded so hard. A contrast to the gentle, teasing exploration. He’d invited her to enjoy, to relax, and when she had, she had been rewarded.

  When mouth against mouth had not been enough, her hands had touched him, explored where she could reach. Strong shoulders, powerful neck, and skin. She touched her neck. His skin was not like her skin. Her hands had crept into his hair, crisp at the base of the neck, and soft and thick past his ears. She’d used touch to fix engines, but this was…different touching. Very different. She’d not felt this longing for any of the men who’d come to look, had not felt it for any of the other men she’d met on this ship.

  It seemed she felt this only for Coop. Did he feel this for her? Would he want to kiss her again?

  What did he see when he looked at her?

  She touched her hair, fingering the strands. The women on this ship arranged theirs in so many different ways. In the movie, the woman had talked about a “bad hair day.” What did that mean? She had always had the same hair day, as far as she knew, though now she noticed the ends were not as even as those of the other women. Her grandmother had tried to keep Arian’s hair the regulation length, but even the Enforcers could not make hair grow evenly.

  Now she touched her cheek. The color had faded again. The woman in the video had put something on her cheeks so that color remained. And her clothes were bright and well fitting.

  Color, her grandmother used to say, was for nature, not for people. At first, she’d thought these people were the same, but when they stood down from their tasks, their clothes got brighter and more individual. She studied the uniform she’d been provided. It was not bright and colorful. But she preferred it to her her overalls.

  The undershirt was soft and comfortable, the trousers and jacket were sturdy and did not obstruct movement. But most important, these clothes helped her look like one of them. She shook her head at herself. Still, you want to blend in, she told her reflection. This time it was not to be safe but to belong. To feel less alien. Which was rather ironic, in that they were venturing out to meet…aliens. She sighed. She did not wish to be eaten by alien birds, but it was still a better fate than pact bonding with, well, with anyone. And her mind, her thoughts would be her own until she died.

  She knew this did not fully explain why she’d agreed to do this mission with them. It was not because of a kiss or even the clothes, th
ough she could not deny they were a factor.

  She wanted to be with Coop.

  There she had thought it, admitted it to herself. Around him, she felt like more than her past. These reasons were not enough, but it did not matter. Doing this felt more right than all the reasons the Consortium had given them for spending their lives in service. And these people had not used the word “serve.” They had asked for her help. They hadn’t demanded or expected it.

  She chose to do this.

  Her chin up, she picked up the matching cap and positioned it on her head, studying the effect. She made a small adjustment, trying to mimic the way the others wore theirs. Satisfied, she gathered her things from the shelf over the sinks and left this place they’d called a head. Though truly, it looked more of a backside place, if the line of sanitation stations were any indication. Outside, her escort waited.

  “I can take those to your ship for you, ma’am,” the woman said, holding out her arms.

  Arian resisted the urge to tell her to lose them. If she’d had anything else to wear, she would have already pitched them into outer space. Instead, she managed a smile. “Thank you.” She looked uncertainly around.

  “I’ll escort you to shuttle bay four, ma’am.”

  The woman tucked Arian’s bundle under her arm and gestured down the hallway.

  This was a different part of the Boyington, though it did not look that different from the areas where she’d been. So she studied the people who passed them instead. Now that she was dressed as they were, they appeared not to notice her. If they still felt fear over the situation, it had found another focus than the alien among them.

  She looked closer, noting that they did not look as afraid as they had just after the incident with the anomaly. They moved with purpose through the ship’s corridors. Purpose and something more? It was another attribute sadly missing on Bosakli, and not fully understood.

  Bravery.

  They appeared brave. And resolute. United in…purpose?

  The Consortium claimed they had achieved perfect unity, but they lied. Unity was only a strength when people did not fear one another, when they had a common purpose when it was by choice. She had a choice, she realized, a real choice this time, to embrace this way that felt better, even though still imperfectly understood, or to stay shackled by her past. Deep inside her, something stirred—the something that had kept her fighting assimilation, she wondered?

  It was possible, but it felt like more than that. There was remembering or the beginning of remembering. Bosakli was fading, becoming almost indistinct and out of focus. What was replacing it was also out of focus, but she was changing from the inside out. Right now they were almost superimposed on each other, but this “other, ” the someone she’d truly been meant to be, was emerging from the shadows.

  No lights showed on her skin, but she felt them inside her. Perhaps they were not real, but her mind creating a symbol for how she felt? Her worry was that others would see them faded some. Now she studied the women that passed and then her guide, watching how they moved. They knew who and what they were, and it showed. She tried to mimic their movement and the way they held their heads. Her guide glanced at Arian, her eyes widening. Arian smiled uneasily, but all she said was, “We’re almost there, ma’am.”

  “Thank you.” Arian hesitated, then could not help herself. “May I ask you a personal question?”

  The woman hesitated. “Of course, ma’am.” Her tone was polite but wary.

  Arian glanced around to make sure they were alone, then lowered her voice. “How do you signal to a male, a man that you wish to be kissed?”

  The woman grinned. “Just pucker up, ma’am. Hard part is to get them to stop.”

  “Oh.” Arian considered this. She had not wanted Coop to stop, but he had. Had he sensed the Colonel approaching? But if a man would kiss any woman he was alone with… “So it is not something special when he kisses you?”

  Now the woman seemed to really look at her. She was quiet for a few seconds. “It can be. When two people truly care about each other, kissing can be more…intimate than sex.”

  “How do you know which it is?”

  Her guide blinked several times, then grinned. “Well, if you ask them where they think the relationship is going and they don’t run away, that’s a good sign.”

  “In the movie, they spoke words of affection,” Arian said.

  “That’s a movie, it’s like made up. You know that right?”

  Arian nodded. Coop had explained that all the people were actors pretending to be the real people in a story written by someone else.

  Her guide’s brow creased in worry. “Sometimes guys will say things so they can, well…”

  “Couple with you?”

  Her face turned quite red, but she nodded. “Yes, ma’am. We call it sex. Or making love.”

  Arian filed this away for further consideration. “How do you know the difference?”

  This appeared to be a most difficult question because the crease in her forehead deepened.

  “Well, you..sometimes you don’t know. You find out when they leave.” Her eyes turned sad. “Or when they don’t leave.” Now her mouth curved in smile and her eyes softened as if she saw something—someone?—not there with them.

  She’d been hurt. Arian sensed this from her, but she was better now. “I see.” Or thought she did. She’d wondered what power Coop might have to damage her. This might be that power.

  “They say love is a leap, ma’am. You don’t know how it’s going to end until you jump.”

  She would not have understood this analogy before climbing down the power core. There had not been much up in her life until now. “You take the risk, or you don’t,” Arian said thoughtfully.

  “Well,” her guide looked wry now, “sometimes you do it because you can’t help it. Attraction can be a bitch.”

  The guide smiled, so Arian smiled back, sensing this was a mild joke.

  “If your gut is telling you to run? Then do it, ma’am. It will hurt but not as much as if he walks away.”

  Arian placed a hand over her gut. It had told her to flee Trajan Bester, she recalled, but it was not telling her to flee Coop. Mostly it was tight from worry about the birds. And getting eaten.

  “You have given me much to ponder.” Not that she needed anymore, but she did desire to be kissed again. If all she had to do was pucker up, that did not seem so hard.

  “Good luck, ma’am.”

  “Thank you.” Arian filed this word away for later, too.

  They stopped at a large hatch, with—she’d learned—the symbol called four painted on it. Her guide swiped her card, the hatch rumbled back. Her guide indicated Arian should enter, curiosity in her eyes.

  “I believe the Captain is already here, ma’am.”

  “Thank you for your assistance. And advice.”

  “You’re welcome, ma’am.” The guide hesitated. “If love works with a guy, it’s worth the risk.”

  And if it didn’t work? Arian wanted to ask. Was it still worth the risk?

  The door slid closed between them, but she would not have asked this anyway. Her guide could speak only for herself. And, Arian suspected, it was an answer that would depend on where one was in the leap. She tried pursing her lips a couple of times, then turned to seek Coop, but stopped in her tracks at the sight of the shuttle on the exit ramp. Her breath stopped in her chest, sound roared through her ears.

  She knew this ship, knew it better than the one that had brought her here. She forgot her military stance, forgot everything as she drifted up for a closer look. She hesitated, but could not resist touching. Her fingers spread, meeting only slight resistance from the somewhat abrasive surface.

  It was not beautiful. It had been designed for function. And to look less than it was. She walked along the side, dragging her hand along the surface. It was, how did Coop say it, what was under the hood where the good stuff happened.

  This was not whispering. This wa
s not learning from the machine.

  She did not need to learn what she already knew.

  The wonder of how floated into her head, but she did not have time or patience for how or when. She belonged to it, and it belonged to her. She turned so that both hands rested on its side, closed her eyes, and mentally went inside. It was big—in the mid-range of shuttle craft. It had a large upper deck with nicer fixtures and wide view screens. Seating for thirty people, as well as a service unit at the rear. Below the executive deck was a smaller passenger area that was part of the flight deck. The entrance to this area was by a ramp that lowered, much like the ship that had collected her. A hatch could be closed off from the cockpit.

  She inhaled, her nostrils filled with the memory of metal and materials. Remembered it…new and fresh. Her breath caught on another, deeper scent. What…the sea. She sucked it in, knew it thought she had only caught a glimpse of an ocean as they left Bosakli’s atmosphere. It was her first and last sighting that she knew of. But that did not matter. With her eyes closed, she felt sand between her toes, the salt tang mixed with the damp air, heard the gentle lapping of the waves, and wind whispering across her skin and tugging at her hair…

  In her mind, she turned from the sea and walked up the shuttle’s ramp. On the flight deck, there were benches and seats, storage compartments for ten to twelve passengers. There were also two science stations, but the co-pilots position could also do the functions of navigation and weapons control. At the front, in the blunt nose, were positions for the pilot and copilot. A wide-view screen took up the top half of the cockpit with banks of controls in front and along the sides. She felt the hum as the engine fired. Her hands flexed, working those controls. She’d flown this ship and next to her—

  “Arian?” Footsteps clattered on the ramp.

  Arian dropped her hands and turned as Coop jumped from ramp to deck. Pucker. She’d planned to pucker, but she could scarcely breathe, let alone pucker up.

  “You okay?” There was concern in his voice, but he did not move closer.