Alien Separation

by Gini Koch

  “Rahmi and Rhee are Queen Renata’s daughters, and I’d bet that she’s the one behind pulling us over,” Chuckie said. “She’s more strategically minded than Alexander is, and if there are problems somewhere in the Alpha Centauri system, pulling in the people who stopped the former King of Alpha Four makes a lot of sense. But why Abigail? She was with the families during that battle and she’s not a warrior.”

  The light dawned. “But Michael’s dead, and Abigail is a Gower. And a woman. You’re right, Chuckie—Renata, or someone working with her, is who brought us here. A Free Woman would definitely feel that the sister of a fallen male warrior would be an excellent replacement or slot filler or whatever they’re doing. Meaning we can probably feel confident we’re in the Alpha Centauri system.”

  “Maybe,” Christopher said. “But with the way we traveled, and by the mere fact that none of the others are nearby, I don’t think we can be a hundred percent confident yet.”

  “Why take Jamie, though?” Chuckie asked. “Yes, she was conceived by then, but that’s pushing it in terms of saying she was there.”

  “They know how powerful she is,” Christopher suggested.

  “Yeah, but . . .”

  “I know that look,” Chuckie said. “And I have no guess as to what you’re thinking, which is almost refreshing based on the past couple of hours.”

  “I don’t think they’re bringing her because she has power, at least not that kind of power. I think they took her because she’s Jeff’s daughter.”

  “To use against him?” Christopher asked, sounding worried.

  “I don’t think so. It’s because they may need her. There’s trouble right here in Alpha Centauri City and that starts with T and that rhymes with C and that stands for ‘chain.’ As in the chain of succession.”

  “How and why did you work The Music Man into this?” Chuckie asked.

  “It’s Kitty, why ask why? But Amy loves that movie—I’ve had to watch it more than once, so I get the Kitty-ism.”

  “So proud. My musical point is that Jamie could, conceivably, be the new ruler of Alpha Four. Especially if the Free Women have lost their patience with having to listen to King Alexander and Councilor Leonidas.”

  CHAPTER 16

  CHUCKIE SHOOK HIS HEAD. “Renata liked Alexander and respected Leonidas the last time I heard from anyone out here which was, yes, right before the princesses arrived. I can easily believe that someone’s against the two of them, but I have trouble buying that it’s her unless things have shifted drastically.”

  “Things shift drastically all the time.” Like, Chuckie’s presumed best friend had shifted right over to the top of our Most Wanted list.

  “We won’t know until we find the others and figure out who really brought us here,” Christopher said quickly. Figured he’d read my mind or was just thinking the same thing and wanted to keep us off the Cliff Goodman Is Our Mastermind topic. “But I think we need to pay attention to our here and now.”

  The katyhoppers seemed to be done communing with each other and Bruno. At least I took the bigger ones sort of nodding their antennae at Bruno and wandering off to mean that the chat was over.

  Sure enough, Bruno immediately came over to me and did some serious head bobbing, wing flapping, and squawking. “Right you are, Christopher. Bruno says that we have been invited to stay with the katyhoppers. This is a big deal—they don’t allow something like this often, but they’ve never seen anything like us, so they feel that we’re here as a test of some kind. Possibly of their hospitality. Anyway, we need to bed down for the night.”

  “But it’s still light out,” Chuckie shared. Accurately.

  “Yeah, I know, but Bruno says that the katyhoppers say that it’s going to get dark fast, and when it does, things that are not as nice as Louie the Lizard will be roaming around. We need to nest with them.” Bruno squawked some more. “Really? Wow, that’s going to be awkward.”

  “What is?” Christopher asked with prescient trepidation.

  “The katyhoppers consider us a family group. They don’t mate like we do, meaning any female and any male, whenever they want, can do the deed. Children are raised by the community.”

  “It really takes a village I guess,” Chuckie said.

  I snorted a laugh, but went on. “However, the three who have been escorting us are two females and a male, and they all nest together. Not necessarily as sexual partners,” I added quickly, as both guys got looks of panic on their faces. “As in, Jeff isn’t going to want to kill us for how we have to spend the night. But their space is limited and they are generously giving us our own family nest, which is a huge honor and we have to treat it as such.”

  “You got all that from some wing flaps and bird calls?” Christopher asked.

  “Actually, I’ve gotten more. Including the fact that the three who’d given us a lift and, as far as they’re concerned, saved our lives from Louie the Lizard, are young adults. If we don’t behave appropriately they’re going to get in trouble with the community. And that can be bad and mean they’re ostracized because of their helping weird strangers.”

  “Then let’s make sure we behave appropriately,” Chuckie said.

  “I know, I just know, I’m going to hate the answer to this question,” Christopher said. “But, how do we have to sleep?”

  I knew he was going to hate the answer, too, but not as much as Jeff would hate the answer. “Spooned up together.” Both guys opened their mouths, but I put my hand up and they didn’t speak. “Per what they’ve told Bruno, it’s going to get hella cold about an hour after dark. Cold for a planet that has two suns may not be our version of cold. Then again, it might be worse. This isn’t Alpha Four, so I’m betting that Christopher is going to feel like he’s freezing once night really hits, and I’m sure Chuckie and I aren’t going to be asking to strip down to our skivvies. The Poofs cannot go large here—they will freak our hosts out beyond belief. Ergo, we’re spooning and you two can fight about who cuddles up against my back and who gets the front on your own time.”

  “She moves a lot in her sleep,” Chuckie said to Christopher. “I call dibs on her back.”

  “Jerk,” Christopher muttered.

  “Wow. I so totally feel the love.”

  “We’re both envisioning what Jeff’s going to do to us,” Christopher snapped, sharing Patented Glare #2. “There is no win in this situation, and we’re both past wanting to grope you.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Chuckie said with a wicked grin. He and I both laughed while Christopher switched it up to Patented Glare #4. “I’m kidding, White. If you’ll feel better, I’ll take Kitty’s front side.”

  “You two could spoon each other, you know.”

  “No, we couldn’t,” Christopher said flatly. “We’ll work out who gets which side later.”

  “Honestly, it doesn’t matter,” Chuckie said. “I was just having fun at your expense. Seriously, she moves a lot in her sleep. At any time during the night she’ll be using one of us for a butt pillow and one for a headrest. Just accept that it won’t be fun, because she also hurdles in her sleep, and just roll with it.”

  “I think I resent all this personal information you’re sharing about me. I can’t deny it, but I do resent it. And I’m forced to add that Jeff never complains.”

  “Probably because he knows what’s good for him,” Chuckie said with another grin.

  Wondered if Chuckie was really okay with this. Having just had Other Me around, presumably thinking he was her husband, at least for a little while, had to have been difficult, especially since he hadn’t really recovered from losing Naomi and he’d just found out that the guy he thought had his back had been busy shoving knives into it for the past several years.

  But right now he seemed fine, and, frankly, we weren’t in a situation for him not to be fine. So, decided to err on the side of assuming he was sma
rt enough to not let anything get to him at the moment and roll with things as we had to deal with them.

  Our discussing the sleeping arrangements and such didn’t seem to be taken amiss by our hosts. “Bruno, my bird, do you know what our katyhopper friends are really called and what their names are?”

  Much feather ruffling, head bobbing, and clucking ensued.

  “Aha. Well, that’s very nice of them.”

  “What is?” Christopher asked.

  “They say that there’s no way we can pronounce their names or what they call themselves. They think katyhopper is a nice name and are fine with us calling them by that species name.”

  “Only you would be in this situation,” Christopher pointed out.

  “Be glad she is,” Chuckie said. “Besides, White, they saved you first.”

  “True enough. Proved they were sentient. So, what do we call them?” he asked quickly, before Chuckie or I could add a comment. “By name, I mean, versus species.”

  “They said we could call them whatever we like.” The guys gave me the “oh really” looks. “What?”

  “It’s not like with the Poofs, is it?” Christopher asked. “Where we name them and they’re ours for life? Not that I have anything against the katyhoppers, mind you. But, if all goes well, we’ll be leaving this planet, and that means leaving them behind, because I’m sure they don’t want to go to and probably can’t live on Earth.”

  “Ah. No, not like that at all, at least from what Bruno said. They’re sentient for certain, and they know we use names, and they also know we can’t manage their names, so, whatever we want to call them, as long as it’s not mean or insulting, is fine with them. And they mean if it’s mean or insulting to us. They’ve already said that what offends them and us will be different and they’re making allowances.”

  Chuckie looked thoughtful. “If you’re not making this up or just winging it, Kitty, and if they really shared all this with Bruno, they’re of a very high sentience level.”

  “Peregrine’s Honor, that’s what transpired.” At least insofar as Bruno knew, but he seemed confident and who was I to argue? He’d been born in this solar system, after all. “Bruno’s from here, remember. I’m betting on him having the skills to translate what’s going on properly.”

  “Then maybe they are the highest sentient life-forms here and were just being docile because they were trying to help us.”

  “Could be. All I know is that it’s time to nest.”

  “Truly, I can’t wait,” Chuckie said. “I just hope that, whenever they find out, Jeff and Amy both understand that we all snuggled together because we had to.”

  Christopher looked pale. “I hadn’t thought about Amy’s reaction to any of this.”

  I patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell her you were great.”

  CHAPTER 17

  TO HIS GREAT CREDIT, Christopher didn’t snarl at me for this one. He just shot Patented Glare #4 at me and Chuckie, probably because we were both still snickering.

  “Is there a plan past sleeping together?” Chuckie looked around. “Because while it’s lovely here, I don’t think we’re going to be able to stay here too long.”

  “I don’t either, unless this question is answered in the positive—do we get to eat?” Christopher asked quietly. “Because it’s been a long time since lunch.”

  “I’m not sure, and now isn’t really the time for us to ask.” Due to having started my day in Australia and ended it in another solar system, I had no idea what time it was anywhere. “And at least you had food somewhere in there. Chuckie and I didn’t get breakfast, and I can’t speak for him, but I didn’t get a lot of food in during the few minutes of briefing session before we started our latest Journey Into the Weird.”

  Bruno clucked at us, then the three katyhoppers we’d been riding indicated we needed to mount up again. Once we were so mounted, they flew us up to a middle section of the gigantic nest apartment.

  We dismounted, more antennae were waved about, then our katyhoppers hopped off, but not far.

  Our family group of friendly helpers were housing with another young group of katyhoppers in the nest next to the one they put us in, and it was easy to see that the space was crowded.

  Despite being made of branches and such, the nest was comfortable. Cramped if you were pony-sized, but comfortable. For us it was roomy. Once we settled down, Bruno shared some more.

  “Those piles of leaves and such are their food,” I told the guys quietly. “They know we can’t eat it, but they have no food for us and it’s too dangerous to let us out to try to find food we can eat anyway.”

  “How are they talking to Bruno?” Christopher asked. “I mean really? I wouldn’t have guessed birds and insects to even be friendly, let alone able to communicate.”

  “No idea. I’m willing to take the favors as they come to us, though.”

  “He’s smaller than they are,” Chuckie pointed out. “Meaning the butterflies or whatever they really are would be Bruno’s prey, but not the katyhoppers. He’s sentient, so are they. Though, honestly, I’d have expected the Poofs to be doing the communication. Though I couldn’t tell you why.”

  Considered this. “Maybe the Poofs are providing translation services.” Looked into my purse. Harlie and Poofikins shot me with their Standard Looks O’ Innocence. “Yep, I’m right. Bruno had the natural skills—remember, he talks to a human all the time, and that’s as different from an avian as an insect is—and anything else the Poofs are helping with.”

  Meaning Algar was assisting, or at least the Poofs had decided that the Free Will Manifesto Algar lived by included keeping us all alive on an alien planet that was likely to be hostile territory. We got so few gimmes like this I was more than happy to take this one and just send a big Thanks For Doing Us A Solid out to the cosmos.

  Since I was looking in it anyway, decided now was the time to take inventory. I carefully rifled through my purse’s contents. I had a good helping of syringes filled with adrenaline, which would be great should we find Jeff and he need to be revived, but whose presence boded. I had my Glock and a lot of clips. I also had some food bars. I never carried food bars, and there were far more syringes of adrenaline than I had in here on a normal basis, so I was sure I’d find more needful things if I kept on digging.

  However, I heard stomachs rumbling, and mine was one of them. “We have a small meal available to us, but no water.”

  Bruno squawked quietly, then he flapped to the nest next door and had a quiet conversation. The katyhopper I’d been riding flew off and Bruno came back to us.

  “Where is he going?” I asked.

  “What do you mean ‘he’?” Christopher asked. “That’s the pink one.”

  “Yep and they don’t have colors assigned to genders, because my katyhopper is the boy. You two are riding the girls.” Bruno hadn’t told me this, I just knew it. Maybe the Poofs weren’t helping Bruno all that much—maybe I was. Or maybe we all were. Maybe ACE was nearby and on the case. And maybe this was all a dream and I’d wake up under a tree and realize that Alice had nothing on me.

  But no matter. Watched my katyhopper fly up into the trees. He came back down with three small fruits held in his front legs. He dropped them carefully into my lap and went off again. He came back two more times, so that we had nine of the fruits.

  “Thank you so much, Pinky, we really appreciate it.”

  Pinky rubbed his front legs together to create a pleasant hum. He waved his antennae at us, then he hopped back to the next-door nest.

  “I’m not calling mine Yellowy,” Christopher muttered.

  “Of course not. Yours is named Saffron.”

  Chuckie grinned as Christopher rolled his eyes. “And mine? Sky? Turkey?”

  “I think she’ll like Turkey, so sure. Anyway, what Pinky brought us are called, I think, waterfruit, or th
is world’s equivalent. They literally hold liquid more than fruit.”

  “Is it safe for us to drink?” Chuckie asked. “I mean that seriously. We don’t have the same physical makeup as an A-C, let alone a katyhopper.”

  “I’ll try it first,” Christopher said. “As long as it’s not alcoholic, I should be fine.”

  “But if it is, or if it metabolizes like that in your system, you’ll be having seizures and we have no doctor around, let alone any medicine other than adrenaline. Meaning it’s up to me.”

  So saying I carefully used a fingernail to cut a hole in the purple skin of the fruit. As I did so, I took a deep sniff. “Smells like purple, the same purple from the trees. And it also smells like liquid. And no, I can’t say why.”

  “Maybe there’s something in the atmosphere here that makes scents filter into the brain as an image,” Chuckie suggested.

  “Maybe. Going to take a drink now. So, um, you know, be prepared for me to die and all that. Or not. Really hoping not.”

  Sure I could have asked Bruno or one of the Poofs to try this, but they had different metabolisms than we did, too. Besides, they weren’t my Royal Tasters. They were my pets.

  Both guys looked worried and ready to argue. But we were hungry and thirsty, Chuckie was more likely to have read through medical journals for fun than I was, and Christopher was the fastest man alive.

  “Down the hatch.” And with that, I took a sip.

  CHAPTER 18

  RESISTED THE URGE to fake dying—hard as it was, based on the guys’ worried expressions—in no small part because I wasn’t sure if the katyhoppers understood humor like we did and I didn’t want them panicking.

  “Tastes like purple. Not wine, not grape juice, but like liquid purple. It’s really good. Do I look weird? Am I breaking out in spots or shrinking or growing or anything?”