Her Alien Commander

by Mira Maxwell

  “What the hell, Mina?” Margo puts her hands on her hips and scowls at me. “I’m not a two-year-old. I wasn’t just going to pop it in my mouth.”

  We’re on our way back to the Sparrow, the starship that carried us across the galaxy to the ice planet Attala, to collect the supplies we need. We walk in close formation to ensure our safety, but Margo broke ranks and raced ahead when she spotted a berry-like fruit growing between a cluster of nearby rocks. I hustled close behind; someone has to save her from herself. I’ve never seen such unbridled curiosity. She doesn’t seem to understand that nothing is safe out here. The sooner we’re back on the ship, the happier I’ll be.

  “I know you wouldn’t eat it,” I say as I pull out a small silver-looking gauge from my pack. “It could be dangerous to the touch, that’s all.” I slip the berry into the top of the device and press down. Numbers should illuminate on the small screen, almost like a small thermometer, giving me a number indicating the toxicity of the tiny fruit. But when I click it again, nothing happens.

  “What the fudge?” I click the top button three more times but I get nothing. I try shaking it, even though I realize there is no logic behind that move, only my frustration.

  Margo laughs. “Did you just say ‘what the fudge?’” I glare at her and she laughs harder. “I mean, just commit to it, Mina. What. The. Fuck,” Margo says, emphasizing each word. “See? You try.”

  “Margo, I didn’t spend four years with the Marines like you did. I can’t knit a tapestry of profanity out of thin air.” They say everyone has a skill, and creative cursing is one of Margo’s. “Besides, my parents would be mortified if they heard me talk like that.” My crew members, four women from Earth, often seem to forget that I’m considerably younger than they are. They talk about their upcoming ‘dirty thirty’ birthdays, but I just had my first legal drink last year. A sidecar, because I’m 21 going on 70.

  Diana rounds the corner in time to catch the tail end of our conversation. “You’re not teasing Mina again about her soft language, are you?” she wags her finger at Margo. “Because if you are, I’ll have to kick your keister.”

  They dissolve into a fit of giggles as I roll my eyes. I don’t know what has them happier: that we’re about to be reunited with our ship, or that they have both found their alien soul mates. Or, maybe, because we’re making progress in our mission to save Earth.

  I’m pretty sure it’s all the hot alien sex they’re having.

  “I’m not teasing her,” Margo says, throwing her hands up in the air. “I just want her to swear like an adult.”

  “I’m barely an adult, Margo, that’s the problem.” I say, popping the berry out of the long, silver cylinder. People assume being a child prodigy is fun, like one long episode of The Big Bang Theory. It sure wasn’t for me. I’m fully aware of the fact that I never really had a childhood.

  “What’d you find?” Diana takes the small berry from me and examines it carefully.

  “It looks like some sort of berry. But the toxicity gauge isn’t working…probably due to the cold. It is just fascinating that it can grow in the crevices of the rock in cold like this.” I point to the small branches sticking out from the rocks.

  We’re all busy analyzing this new find when Margo’s alien mate Lodyn walks over. Sometimes he seems grumpy, but I think it’s mostly due to the pressure he’s under to keep us all safe. We wouldn’t last five minutes on this planet without the members of the guard watching over us.

  “What’s taking so long?” he asks in perfect English, thanks to his language implant. Before Diana can say a word, he plucks the berry out of her fingers and tosses it far away into a snow bank. “Scorch seed,” he says as an explanation. “Very dangerous.” He shakes his head and turns away. “Let’s go. We need to make it back to the ship before nightfall.”

  Diana wraps her arm around my waist and steers me back onto the trail. She’s my mission commander, but she’s also my friend. Five women trapped together on a spaceship for months at a time can only end a couple of ways. You learn to get along, or someone goes out the airlock. Luckily, we got along like a house on fire. Diana, Margo, Savannah, and Natalie: the only real friends I’ve ever had.

  “You know,” Diana says, “the members of the guard are a valuable resource when it comes to the planet’s environment. They’ve had extensive training on how to survive out here with very few supplies. I’m sure any of them would be happy to answer any questions you might have.”

  “I just wish they had a book I could borrow that explained everything,” I say. Diana chuckles, pats my arm and continues walking back to the trail.

  “I bet one of them could teach you a few things not found in any books,” Margo winks and I blush at her suggestion. “Lodyn sure did with me,” she adds, just in case I didn’t catch her innuendo.

  I stare at the hulking alien guards that travel with us, on watch to ensure our safety. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to them. They seem perfectly nice. It’s that I don’t really want to talk to anyone. I’ve spent most of my life with my nose buried in a book, and it’s pretty much my default setting at this point. I’m comfortable being a wallflower. The thought of a long conversation makes me break out in hives.

  I cross a snow bank and rejoin the trail with Margo. Snow has crept into the top of my boot, for the hundredth time today, and I have to fight back the urge to scream. I hate the cold on my skin and the horrible feeling of wet socks. In fact, if I never see snow again I’ll be one happy woman. I calm myself by imagining my well-lit climate-controlled lab. Now that Diana has found the Eclaydian, the rare compound we travelled out here to harvest, it’s up to me to manipulate it for maximum power. It’s the only way to jump start our sun, and I’m excited to get to work.

  Then, as if the universe is throwing me a bone, we reach the crest of a hill and a sharp reflection catches my eye.

  “There it is,” Margo says, pointing at the starship we’ve all grown to love. “I parked her nice and snug by the mountain so she wouldn’t draw any attention.” She looks at her mate, leans in on her tiptoes, and kisses him on the lips. “I have to give some of the credit to Lodyn, of course. He found the spot.”

  I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I’m happy Margo and Diana are happy, but all this talk of fated mates with an alien race is a little much. There’s no basis for it in the scientific literature, I can tell you that much. But all I want right now is to be reunited with our safe, beautiful, predictable ship.

  I race past Margo, Diana and our doctor, Savannah. Past the warriors tasked with our protection. I slide down the snowy hill until I reach the Sparrow. I jog up to the front hatch as best as I can in the deep snow, and pull myself up so I can get inside. My equipment, supplies, and personal items are all waiting in there for me.

  “Wait,” the warrior Kjallak says, running up to my side as I turn the hatch. “We should check the ship first to make sure it’s safe.”

  I’m about to argue but then the other warriors flank Kjallak and I know my argument would fall on deaf ears. Their job is to keep us safe and they plan on doing it, no matter how unlikely it seems that anything would have gotten in the ship.

  I hop down and rejoin the other women. I’m smiling from ear to ear when I look over at them, basking in the calm that has come over me now that I’m so close to being near all of my things again. I actually clap when the warriors return a few minutes later with the all clear. They lower the ramp and I start up before it even touches the snow.

  The rest of the team follows closely behind and we all make our way to the sleeping quarters. I kneel down and peer under my bed, searching for the bin of books that made the journey with me. I don’t know how I’ll choose which ones will make the journey back to the fortress with me because I can’t take all of them. I had to put up with endless ribbing from the crew for my love of old-fashioned paper books, but the feel of them in your hands beats the more modern reading tablets by a country mile.

  “We don’t have much
time,” Kjallak says behind us. “Gather your things quickly so we can be on our way back.”

  “We don’t have to worry about the walk back,” I say as if it should be obvious. “We can drive the mobile lab back with us.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth I stop.

  “What’s the matter?” Diana asks.

  “The mobile lab,” I say, turning to Margo. “It wasn’t damaged in the crash, was it?”

  Everything happened so quickly when we crashed and were “rescued” by our alien hosts. I never had a chance to check on our supplies and make sure everything survived the crash landing. Margo was the only member of our research team that was left on the ship; she was too stubborn and refused to leave. The rest of us were carried off by the warriors before we had a chance to properly inventory all of the damage.

  “The lab itself should be fine. It was secured tightly to the walls of the cargo bay and it was still there after the crash,” Margo says. “As for all of the materials inside, I didn’t check.” While she’s talking I grab as many personal effects as I can and shove everything into my pack.

  “I’m going to go check the medical bay and grab a few supplies,” Savannah says as she heads back down the corridor. I follow behind her until I branch off towards the cargo bay. It’s dark when I first step inside, but the white mobile lab almost glows like a firefly. It’s not pretty – it looks like a futuristic shipping container on monster truck tires – but it’s a beautiful beast to me. It’s stocked with everything I could possibly need for my work. There are flashlights located by the entrance so I grab one and switch it on, lighting a small path for myself. I’m relieved when everything appears to be undamaged.

  I step aboard and activate the lights. They flicker for a moment until they’re illuminating the space with a brightness that makes me squint. I exhale with relief when I look around and the lab looks clean and sterile. I locked all of the equipment in the cabinets above the counters to keep things from falling or breaking during flight. Before I get the key to look through the cabinets, I stand in the middle of the lab and breathe in my favorite smell, a lab, completely sterile after a thorough cleaning with disinfectants. This is where I feel most at home.

  The other women climb in and immediately look for places to store their things.

  “Where’s the muscle?” Savannah asks. She’s looking through the first aid cabinet, taking inventory of the limited medical supplies we’re able to take with us.

  “Here,” Kjallak says as he ducks down and maneuvers his body through the doorway. Lodyn is behind him, with Margo close by, of course.

  “The other warriors will return on foot,” Lodyn says. A good decision. With two warriors inside, it’s getting cramped. There’s no way all of them would have fit.

  The residents of the city hosting us on Attala appear human. Their bodyguards appear humanish: seven-foot-tall walls of muscle with a bluish white swirl pattern on their skin. They take up the space of two normal human men which means we’ll all be very close by the end of the journey.

  “Who’s driving this beast?” Savannah points to the driver’s seat at the front of the lab. It’s the only seat on board.

  “I’ll drive,” Margo says, enthusiastically. She has logged hours upon hours of air time during her tenure as a military pilot, not to mention piloting the Sparrow across the galaxy, but she’s never gotten behind the wheel of this huge tank. And she never will, if I have any say in it.

  “That would be me,” I say as I edge past her and sink into the upholstered seat. They stare at me, mouths agape, as I click the seatbelt into place. “Close your mouths, ladies, before a fly swoops in.”

  I wink in the rearview mirror as I flip the switch and the engine roars to life. I activate the rear hatch and hit the gas once we have a clear path of exit. The vehicle rumbles and lurches down the ramp.

  I have a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel, which is impressive considering how much my hands are sweating. I don’t even have my driver’s license, something I wisely keep to myself. Truth be told, there isn’t much to driving the beast. I practiced back on Earth.

  In my eagerness to get back with the lab, I trigger the closing of the hatch too soon. The overhead door clips the top of the beast, treating us all to a bone-shaking jolt. I guess I should have practiced more.

  “What. The. Fuck.” I whisper it under my breath, but Margo has super human hearing when it comes to cursing.

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” she says as a smile creeps across her face.

  Two

  MINA

  The yard is usually deserted this time of day. It’s where I go with my journal to brainstorm and take notes; the quiet is perfect for collecting my thoughts. The members of the guard not on duty usually congregate in the meal hall or the bunk houses. They aren’t much for talking, but they sure like throwing back a meal or playing a game of chance. So, I’m expecting it to be quiet when we return to the outpost. It’s not like the warriors are excited about the arrival of the mobile lab.

  I’m surprised to find quite a commotion going on when we park the vehicle outside the too-narrow gate and venture inside. There’s a spark of energy in the air, the din of excited conversation. The warriors mill around the yard, slap each other on the upper arms, and wear joyous grins on their usually stern faces.

  “What’s going on?” I turn to Kjallak as I survey the scene.

  “I don’t have any idea,” he says, “but I’m going to find out.” Lodyn follows closely behind him as they move into the fray. Diana scans the common area for her alien warrior husband, Mallyk, the leader of the Attalan guard, but he’s nowhere to be found.

  “Don’t worry,” I say to her. “I’m sure everything is fine.”

  Kjallak and Lodyn return quickly with answers.

  “Our prior leader has returned,” Lodyn explains.

  “What does that mean?” Diana asks.

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. But the men are happy to see him. To know that he is well.” He motions to the crowd and I suddenly understand their good mood.

  “Well is he just coming back for a visit?” Diana rests her hands on her hips. This new development is bringing out her ferocious side. “Or do you think he wants his old job back?”

  Kjallak tosses up his hands. “I don't know. He's in talking to Mallyk right now. We'll have to wait and hear what he says.” Diana doesn’t like to wait, and Kjallak knows it.

  “Why is he not the leader anymore?” I ask.

  “He was gravely injured in battle last year,” Lodyn explains. I can tell the topic makes him uncomfortable, but I can’t help my questions from pouring out.

  “I thought you could heal from anything?” Maybe they aren’t as immune to danger as they’ve represented.

  “We can heal from most injuries, that is true.” He looks into the distance as he speaks. “Cardyk is different, though. He's the oldest among us, and his healing abilities started to weaken some time ago. Nevertheless, he led us in the charge against the Vhyla raiders on the open ice plains. He fell in battle against their mightiest warrior. By that time, his enhanced healing had failed entirely. We ended up having to carry him back to the wall for the healers to save his life.”

  “Why didn’t he retire when his healing started to fail?” Kjallak and Lodyn both scoff at the suggestion. Disgust darkens their expressions.

  “What?” I say. “It certainly makes life more dangerous out here.”

  “A warrior of the guard is never concerned with his personal safety. Our purpose is to keep the people of our city safe. Nothing comes above that.”

  Someone better at reading the situation would let this line of questioning die out, but I forge ahead, my curiosity getting the better of me.

  “Isn't there a way to fix your healing ability?” I ask. “You’d think they would be able to work a little magic with the genetic engineering to fix any problems like that.”

  “They tried,” Lodyn says. “but the scientists were unable to do
anything for him other than the old-fashioned healing methods: stitches, bandages, and ointment. They don't understand how to do a second round of genetic engineering. We warriors only go through the process one time. No one knows what doing a second round would do to us.”

  “So it took him this long to heal?” Margo asks. I’m grateful I’m not the only one with questions.

  “Yes it's been over a year. Based on what the men said, it seems that his strength has returned, although his ability to rapidly heal appears to be compromised still.”

  “Then he probably hasn’t returned with the expectation of taking back over, right?” Diana says. I rest my hand on her arm. Now is not the time to push it.

  “I'm sure Mallyk's job is safe,” I whisper.

  As if on cue, the door to Mallyk's quarters open and two giant warriors step out of the tiny stone building. They’re matched in size and strength. And, surprisingly enough, they look similar in age.

  I know it’s a little indelicate, but I can’t stop myself from expressing my surprise. “I was expecting a shriveled old man. Someone at least fifty or sixty.”

  “He has nearly 40 earth years,” Lodyn responds. “That's extremely long-lived for a warrior. Many of us fall in battle and pass on to the next realm before we reach our thirtieth year. Cardyk is the oldest among us, but he is no shriveled old man.”

  He certainly isn’t. Not by any stretch of the imagination. I watch him as he steps into the crowd, curious about the warrior Kjallak and Lodyn speak of with such respect. I soak up every detail. Shoulders as wide as the broad side of a barn. Midnight black hair that’s cropped close in a no-nonsense fashion, and blue eyes that look as cold as the ice caves in the mountains.

  There is a look of satisfaction about him; he's standing tall with his shoulders pushed back, surveying the men and basking in their admiration. I wonder if he really does want this job back. I certainly would. The warriors give up everything for their job. Family. A life inside the city walls. The hope of a mate or children. Maybe Diana should be worried.