by Delia Roan
“Melissa Rose Harlock,” she read, running her finger over the crude lettering.
“What is that symbol underneath?”
Her face grew hot. “It’s a cat. An Earth animal.”
“A… kaaht? It is your clan symbol?”
“I-It’s a silly… Jen… My sister always called me Garfield. He’s an orange cat. And because of my hair…” She lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.
As much as I hate the name, I would give anything to hear Jen call me Garfield again.
Exhaustion closed in on her, and it was more than physical. It was the dangerous kind. The kind that crept into one’s soul.
“Siblings are strange,” Jahle commented. He seemed to read her mood, because he nudged her shoulder. “Come, let us check how much water we have been blessed with. Then we can eat.”
Jahle hummed a note of irritation when he extracted a canister from the side of the water pump. His mouth made a narrow line as he shook the bottle.
“That doesn’t sound like a lot of water,” Mel remarked. “That Water tribe dude drink it all on us?”
“We will have to make do.” He narrowed his eyes at Mel. “Do you urinate?”
Taken aback, Mel blinked. “Err, yeah? In fact, now that you mention it, I kinda need to go.”
“Excellent.” He handed her a second canister. “Place your urine within this container. We can run it through the purifier.”
Mel stared at him in horror. “You want to drink my pee? Like that bear guy on TV?”
It took some negotiating, but eventually Mel caved. She returned from behind the crate with a bottle. She refused to watch as Jahle plugged it into the purifier. She sat on a rock and turned her back.
Don’t think about it, Mel. Just don’t.
Truth be told, she was thirsty enough to consider swigging out of the unpurified bottle. To her relief, Jahle handed her the first canteen, and she drank half of it in a single go. He didn’t stop her, just stared at her, while she chugged. When she handed it back to him, he corked it without a word and sat across from her.
Her stomach growled as Jahle pulled two of the bars out of the pack. He peeled both and handed one to her. The mahogany puck resembled the energy bars her ex-boyfriend Paul used to eat.
Nothing could be worse than his kale and quinoa bars. Mel brought it to her nose, and inhaled a scent like lake algae and rotting fish. Maybe I was wrong. Her mouth watered despite the nose-wrinkling stench. Jahle bit into the bar with relish and murmured in pleasure.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Synthetic protein,” he replied.
Mel’s lip curled. “That… sounds not appealing.”
Her stomach won. She bit down on the bar, and whimpered. She pulled the bar from her mouth and stared at the divots her teeth had left on the dark surface. She tried again, this time, using her molars. Again, she couldn’t bite through.
“It’s like biting into a boot sole,” she said.
Jahle, who had finished his bar, took pity on her. He extended his hand. “Give it to me.”
She handed it over, and to her dismay, he took a huge bite. “Hey! That’s mine, you jerk!”
Jahle raised a hand. A placating gesture. He chewed for a moment. Then he spat the food into his hand and extended it to her. “Eat.”
Mel shot to her feet. “Ew! Gross!”
His hand remained extended.
“No! No way, and no how! First you want to drink my pee and now you want me to eat your spit? What is with you and bodily fluids?”
“Suit yourself,” Jahle replied. “You will collapse from weakness and I will leave your corpse for the borebugs to find.”
Mel growled at him, but she sank back onto her rock. She eyed the mush. The smell was worse now, but her tummy complained. With a sigh, she reached out her hand. Jahle grabbed her wrist with his free hand, and examined her palm. The unexpected contact sent tingles running across Mel’s belly. The band of his fingers across her wrist seared her skin.
He’s so warm!
“What is wrong with your hand?” Jahle asked.
Mel snatched her hand back. “Nothing. Just a little rope burn.”
He frowned at her. “You have been injured this entire time?”
“No big deal.” Mel shrugged. She grabbed a handful of mush from Jahle’s palm and hissed when the juices touched her torn skin. She dropped the food and wiped her hand on her sweatshirt.
“Here.” Jahle scooped food with his fingers and held it to her mouth.
“You’re kidding.” When her stomach cramped, she choked back her pride. “Fine.”
She nibbled a piece of the mush. The saltiness of it twisted her face, but once the initial shock wore off, she found herself grateful for the food. And for the patient alien who waited for her to finish her mouthful before handing her another.
Just don’t think about alien drool, or alien pee. Or about how aliens make synthetic protein.
When she reached the end of the bar, she felt more like herself. “Is that all?”
“You may have another, if you wish. There are plenty more.”
“You only had one.”
“My needs are different than yours.”
Years of dating the wrong men had given Mel a finely tuned bullshit meter, and Jahle’s statement activated it.
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not a scientist, but I know the bigger the animal, the more calories it needs.”
“We should tend to your wounds.”
Oh, wanna play that game, huh? No worries. I honed my skills against Jen in the waiting game.
She let him fuss over her hand. The tin of medicinal salve from the storage crate had dried out. Water from the canteen rehydrated it, and Jahle dabbed the paste across her palm. First it stung, then coolness seeped into her skin, bringing relief. Jahle wound strips of lightweight sealant tape around her hand.
“That must do. No bandages.”
“Thanks.” Mel yawned, and peered around the campsite with bleary eyes. “Which bed is mine?”
“Your pick.”
She collapsed onto the nearest one, wrapped her arms around the gun, and shivered. “‘S cold.”
Jahle returned with a machine, which he placed between the two bedrolls. He spun the handle until the machine hummed to life. Soon, warm air began to wash over Mel from the machine.
“If you wake and the heat has gone, power the dynamo as I did.”
“‘Kay. What about bugs? Giant ones?”
“It emits an ultrasonic sound. They will stay away.”
Yeah, right, she thought, that one pinged the BS meter, too. But she was too sleepy to argue. Against her better judgment, her eyes shut, and she fell asleep.
When she jerked back awake, the ground rumbled. Mel was uncertain of how much time passed, but the quake ebbed. The campsite was washed in pale light from the sconces. The heater hummed. Jahle’s bedroll was empty.
Before she could sit up, she spotted him sitting on a rock by the cave’s entrance, his back to her. He nearly blended into the rocks surrounding him. He stretched and rolled his neck, grumbling, but his attention never wavered from the darkness of the tunnel. The sight sparked a warm glow in her chest.
He’s standing guard.
His shirt sat on the rock beside him, and she watched the muscles of his back move as he stretched. He pulled the tie out of his hair, letting the mass of braids tumble down. One by one, he undid each braid, and then his fingers worked to neaten them again. She got the sense he was only doing it to pass time, but she was mesmerized by his wildness, his otherness.
Maybe the butterflies in her stomach were from lack of food. Or maybe she was following her predictable pattern of falling for the wrong guy at the wrong time. The last five guys she dated had been the same: nice at the beginning. But when Mel got to know them…
When they got to know me…
The night she was snatched from her apartment, her la
test boyfriend, Paul, had just broken up with her. The night had started out well enough. They had sat down in their usual booth at Georgette’s and ordered. Over appetizers, Paul had asked her to move in with him.
And she’d freaked. She told him it was because she couldn’t move out of the apartment. Jenna counted on her, not just for rent, but for emotional support from her big sister. She had stormed out before the appetizers had arrived.
The truth was that she couldn’t stand the idea of not having her freedom. Commitment on that level scared her. Picturing a life with Paul scared her.
Relying on someone else scared her.
Plus Jen really, really needs me.
She pulled her blanket tight around her and rolled over, turning her back to Jahle.
Not this time. Not this place.
Not this guy.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JAHLE
After a morning meal of protein bars washed down with water, Jahle discovered the lamps were dead after lying dormant all night.
“We will have to walk around until they recharge,” he said. “The tunnels will be hazardous without them.”
Mel tapped a finger to her lips. “I can do one better.”
She grabbed the lamps from his hands and strode to the water pump. Using the straps, she attached all four lamps to the handle, and snapped her fingers at him.
“Canteen,” she ordered.
He had to help her insert the canteen, but once it was in place, she cranked. By the time the pump burbled with water, the lamps glowed again. Mel grinned while she rubbed her arm from the effort.
She is resourceful.
“How are your hands?”
She glanced down at them in surprise. “I almost forgot about the rope burn.” She opened and closed her fingers a few times. “They don’t hurt now, but I get the feeling they will when I use them.”
She is stoic.
Jahle packed away the bedrolls while the water purified. As he made to close the doors, he hesitated. The unspoken rule of the emergency campsites was to replace what you took. He had enough emergency rations to leave a few.
For who? We are all dying.
He placed two inside the crate.
“Why are you doing that?” Mel asked. Her bright eyes missed nothing.
“An Ennoi is not an Ennoi without other Ennoi.”
“Huh?”
“We should give more than we take. That is the Ennoi way.”
By the time they returned all the equipment, the pump was done with its purification cycle.
“A quarter bottle.” Jahle pursed his lips. The earthquakes must have damaged the pipes leading to the water table below. Perhaps the water table itself had shifted. Or perhaps, with the Water People decimated, no one was left to maintain the system.
“Better than nothing,” Mel chirped.
After her full night’s sleep, she was perky and bright-eyed, eager to move on. Jahle had barely slept, and his entire body ached this morning. He wanted to curl up and rest, cradling Mel in the curve of his body, but they could not afford a delay. Every bell that sounded in Kreebo meant Dogan grew closer to discovering his betrayal.
When he realizes the extent of what I stole from him…
They made good time. Mel proved to be a quick learner. She questioned him about the trail markers until she began to understand the system. While she couldn’t read Ennoi, she learned the symbols that made up the various routes.
“Which way?” he asked, when they reached an intersection.
Mel peered at the slabs on the walls, then pointed. “This way to the Kardashian Ridge.”
“Kastikan Ridge,” Jahle corrected.
“Same difference.”
“What is a Kardashian?”
The lecture on human culture that followed was almost incomprehensible to Jahle, but he let her speak. Her voice soothed him. The stream of words washed over him, and seemed to draw the tension from his body. With Mel behind him, he could face any obstacle.
She was smart, and funny. Adept. He wanted to spend time deciphering her mind and exploring her body. Even when the path grew rough, she soldiered on, keeping her head up. When they reached a jagged patch, she climbed, gritting her teeth against the pain in her fingers. She only hesitated when they encountered a collapsed tunnel. The gap left was wide enough for Jahle to wiggle through. From the other side, he coaxed her under the rubble.
“I-I don’t like tight spaces,” she said, scrambling to her feet. She wore a sneer on her face, as if anger could hide away the truth of her emotions.
I want to kiss away her fear.
When they stopped for a break, they sat side by side on a rocky ledge, and she ate the pre-chewed protein bar without a fuss. His heart thundered as her shoulder brushed his. His throat closed up when her lips met his fingers. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and seal the deal.
Yet she is unaffected. Do humans not feel the Avowal?
The ache in his muscles was a warning. He had met his Avowed, and soon, he would achieve his full Potential. She was ignorant of Ennoi matters. Better to keep it that way. He would help the Water People, and in return, they would take her to the ships. He would find a cave to lie in, until…
How long do I have?
“You okay?” Mel stared at him again. She was always studying him.
“I am fine. We should keep moving.”
The rest of the day passed quickly. Jahle pushed onward as long as he could, but when Mel stumbled, he guided them to the nearest campsite. They worked as a team, with Mel priming the pumps while Jahle laid out the bedrolls and set up the portable heater. Mel whooped when the pump gurgled. They filled both canteens and drank their fill.
“No more pee water!” Mel danced around the campsite. “Pee free!”
“To bed. Get some sleep. Another half a day’s march awaits us. Maybe more.”
“Nuh-uh. You kept watch last night. I’ll keep watch tonight.” She patted the sonar evaluator. “Anyone shows up, I’ll be all, like, ‘say hello to my little friend!’”
He bit back his amusement. She put so much faith in that machine. “No, you should rest.”
She merely stuck out her lower lip at him and marched to the cave entrance, where she plunked down on a rock. Jahle stretched out on his bedroll and dozed. When he woke from his nap, Mel’s head was slumped to her chest, and the sonar evaluator lay on the floor beside her. He scooped her into his arms. She murmured and burrowed her face into his chest. His heart galloped along with her breathing.
He laid her on her bedroll, and tucked the sonar evaluator beside her before he sat back on his heels. He took a moment to enjoy the serenity on her face. No judgment, no wariness. Just an openness that made him long for easier times. With a trembling hand, he swept the hair from her forehead. The ache in his limbs was growing.
I can offer her nothing.
When she woke the next morning, he was already up, packing away his bedroll.
She rolled to her feet with a groan, and staggered to the water pump. She pulled off the bulky over shirt she wore, revealing a thin white shift beneath. The pump had produced enough water to fill both canteens. She splashed the excess onto her face.
The water trickled downward, soaking her shirt, so it clung to her curves. He watched her arch her back. Her murmur of pleasure from the stretch sent a boulder tumbling down his chest and into his groin.
“I am so stiff,” she groused.
Parts of me are too.
The bedroll didn’t deserve the violence he bestowed upon it, nor did he have any reason to stare at the names on the wall for a few minutes. He reminded himself that most of the names on the wall belonged to the dead. The thought helped sober him up. He added his name to the end of the list. Another Ennoi, waiting for death. Mel carved her own name into the wall, followed by the triangle-eared animal.
Jahle swung the packs into place on his shoulders. He was at the mouth of the cave b
efore he thought to check his belongings. He cursed when he noticed the missing pouch on his hip. He hurried back and grabbed it from beside a rock, all while chiding himself for his carelessness.
Can’t afford any distractions.
“Don’t want to forget your spices,” Mel said with a wry smile. “They can only improve the flavor of those shoe leather bars.”
He debated removing all his packs and placing it underneath. With the other straps holding it down, it was more likely to remain safe. However, under Mel’s scrutiny, he feigned casualness, and slung it over his shoulder.
“If we find a campsite with a working stove and enough water, I will make you a stew.”
“Oh boy! Rotten fish stew! Just like dear old Grammy used to make!”
He led them onward. The path began to curve upward, and soon, Mel had no breath left for talking. Her energy and effort grew focused on the path. Even Jahle began to struggle, weakened by sleepless nights and the scarcity of food. Plus his bones seemed to weigh as much as the rock surrounding them.
Jahle called a break earlier than he intended. They perched on a rock and ate in silence. Mel excused herself to walk around the corner ahead so she could relieve herself. She returned a few minutes later, her cheeks bright with color and a spring in her step.
“It opens up ahead! The path! There’s like a cliff! And light!”
The caverns. We made it to the Kastikan Ridge.
Jahle forced himself to his feet.
Let’s hope I am not too late.
The tunnel opened into a vast cavern, and the path continued along a ledge that sloped steeply back down. Light filtered in from holes in the ceiling, and the howling wind diffused into a gentle breeze by the time it made its way down. The cavern floor below them was dotted with ruins.
Mel peered over his shoulder and whistled. “Whoa. Long way down. Is that a… city?”
Jahle nodded. “It used to be Kastik. The capital city of Geran.”
“What happened to it?”
Greed. Anger. Hate.
“The war,” he replied. “Enemy bombs.”
Mel didn’t reply, but merely followed him out of the tunnel and onto the ledge. It was wide enough for both of them to walk side by side, but Jahle went ahead, sticking close to the wall. Mel peered over the edge, but she didn’t flinch about stepping out. She walked with sure feet, keeping one hand on the wall.
