by Calista Skye
“We shall. Which direc—”
At that moment, the newly risen sun comes out from behind a cloud and sends a bright ray right at Ashlynn’s face. It’s the first time I really see her clearly. And her sheer femininity paralyzes me for a moment. That little nose. Those large eyes over the soft cheeks. The small mouth with those generous lips. The long, silky hair. The smoothness of her skin, with no deep scars anywhere. Yet she has no stripes, making her seem so incredibly vulnerable. Her movements when she strokes her hair back in an absent-minded motion have an otherworldly gentleness to them. And yet I sense that it is not an alien thing – that it is pure female.
She throws a nervous glance over her shoulder. “What is it?”
I turn around so she can’t see the sudden swelling of my crotch. “I think this direction will be good for now. Agree?”
It takes her a couple of heartbeats to reply, but I can hear her following me. “Okay. After a while, we have to turn more to the right.”
I help Ashlynn over two trees that have fallen across each other. “Is your planet really that much better than this one?”
She thinks about it. “That’s a difficult question to answer. Maybe not better. But it’s our home. Our families are there.”
I can hear the pain in her voice. Yes, of course she wants to go back to her home. I understand that. I feel much the same, myself. Even after all these years. “Your memories are there. The things you like. The food. The sounds and the sights. The smells. The one tree that only you ever climbed. The bush that in your mind was a fine cave. The things that are small to others but are big to you.”
She looks up at me as we walk. “Yes. All those things. You have also left your home?”
“I have. It was...” But suddenly my experiences seem ridiculous. This woman is many years of travel away from her home, as I understand it. She was taken by force. Whereas I left on my own accord, and my village is only three days’ quick walk distant. “It was long ago. Never mind,” I finish lamely.
“I would like to hear about it one day,” she says as I lift her over yet another fallen tree, secretly breathing in and letting her sweet scent fill my nose. I better make the most of this.
“Maybe,” I respond airily and set a course towards the edge of the gatagank track. “Let’s go back into the woods.”
We have barely reached the first tree that’s still standing when the ground shakes again and I stop.
“What is it?” Ashlynn asks in her curiously alien way of speaking.
“A Big,” I respond, looking around. “Very big. It feels like…” I spot it in the same moment. One small head perched atop a thin neck, sticking up from the trees in the distance. “...another gatagank.”
Ashlynn draws closer to me, and that small gesture fills my chest with warmth and makes the entire trip worthwhile. Maybe she finally trusts me.
“Another one?”
“It’s further away,” I assure her after observing the Big for a while. “It will not come close to here. But it is strange. I have never seen two gataganks in one day. Or even in a hundred days. They live far apart from each other, roaming their own territories.”
“Maybe they are lovers,” Ashlynn suggests. “They have to reproduce somehow.”
Just the suggestion of Mating, coming from her female lips, renews the tightness of my pants. “Gataganks don’t mate. They mix their juices in enormous nests, and then the last one guards that nest until there’s an egg and then a hatchling. They never come close to each other.”
“So we are definitely safe here?”
“Nowhere in the jungle is safe.” I state the obvious truth that every boy hears at the beginning of his life. “But we are safe from that particular gatagank and its followers.”
The sight of the second Big unsettles me. Two gataganks in one day? In less than a few hours? It seems like an omen. And I can’t imagine a gatagank being a good omen, much less two of them.
We enter the jungle, where the going is easier for Ashlynn, but where dangers have greater opportunities to hide. The first gatagank passing nearby recently may have upset the beings in here too, made them more likely to attack. I have seen similar things before.
Two gataganks in one day. Hmmm.
We’re able to walk faster here among the trees, and I notice Ashlynn knows enough about the jungle to be as quiet as she can. I’m acutely aware of her presence behind me, and I am often tempted to look at her while I scan our surroundings for danger. I don’t know what it is about her – it’s as if she fuels me, and I want to do my very best to keep her safe.
I would really enjoy this walk if it weren’t for a black little barb in my soul: she wants to leave Xren. That’s her highest wish. And I am helping her.
Why should that bother me so much? I have no claim on her. Don’t I want this gentle woman with the long hair to be happy?
I do, of course. I really do. But can’t she be happy here? I certainly learned to be happy outside of my tribe. Can’t she be happy on a different planet than the one she came from? I wonder if—
I freeze and reach out a hand behind me to stop Ashlynn before she walks into me.
In the distance, I can hear the hiss of the new gatagank making its way through the woods, flattening everything and making a new path. But there is something else, too, just on the edge of perception...
I stand still, listening. There’s a noise like constant, distant thunder. Growing less distant very fast.
Ah.
I draw my sword and grab Ashlynn’s thin arm, pulling her behind me. I don’t know where this danger is coming from, but I do know it’s something new.
The thunder comes steadily closer, overpowering the sound of the distant gatagank.
Ashlynn gasps. “There!”
I whirl around.
My heart sinks in my chest, and for a moment I consider just running. But there are too many of them, and I know from experience that they can outrun me.
It’s a herd of rekh, fast and nimble Bigs with sharp claws and many, many teeth. Each one is about my size, and I have killed many in my time. But I can’t kill fifty of them. Or more. Still, I should start to plan precisely that. Because they have seen us and are coming straight for us.
I look around in desperation.
There.
With my free hand, I grab Ashlynn around her waist and sprint to the tree I spotted.
“Grab hold of that branch,” I urge and lift her with one hand as high up as I can. Rekh have powerful legs and can jump pretty high.
She can’t get a grip on the branch, so I give her a final boost that almost sends her too high up. But finally she stays up there, hanging across the branch like a wet piece of cloth.
The thunder is now much closer. I run back to where I was in order to lure the stampeding predators away from Ashlynn’s tree.
They’re upon me.
I pull the sword back and swing it in a wide arc that catches the four first rekh across their throats, cutting their heads off. It doesn’t even buy me a heartbeat of time to plan my further moves. There are rekh everywhere, snapping their huge jaws and reaching their claws out for me. I can’t think – I must act on instinct and allow my daily training to take over with no intrusion from my thinking mind. That is just too slow now.
I take a mental step back and let the sword do what it wants. Luckily, it wants the same as me.
Rekh parts and blood spray the ground and the trees, as well as me. Claws and teeth come close, while dead, yellow eyes widen when my blade cuts into another predator Rekh. My sword may be large, but it feels light in my hand.
I have to move back – there’s a mountain of dead predators in front of me.
But none behind me. They only come from one side, and that is unnatural. I wonder if—
“Juri’eeeex!”
My head snaps around, and I choose to duck for the next rekh instead of cutting it down.
My blood freezes. Ashlynn is about to slide down from her branch, gra
sping desperately for a handhold that is simply not available on the slippery bark.
Beneath her are two rekh, looking up at her with obvious expectations. If she falls all the way down, or even if she’s left hanging by her arms, she’s all theirs.
The brief moment of distraction lets a predator come too close, and I feel something stroke softly by my thigh. It’s what happens in combat – every touch feels soft. But a rekh doesn’t have a soft part anywhere on it.
I fight off the rekh and make my way over to the tree as fast as I can. The two waiting rekh turn their attention to me, annoyed at being disturbed.
“Aiiieee!” Ashlynn slips further down from the branch, and as I feared she is now hanging from it on straight arms. Her legs are now within easy reach for the two rekh.
They are confused about where to focus their attention – on me or on her. I use that short moment to slash one of them in half, but that only makes the other one sure about it decision to attack me. It pounces with great force, and my sword isn’t ready. I twist out of the way, but the charging predator strikes me in the chest before I can get a grip on it and toss it away.
Ashlynn loses her grip and falls. I barely have time to throw myself at her to soften her landing, rolling over once to dissipate the force. Then I’m on my feet again as the second rekh attacks once more, but the distance is too great – my sword is ready the moment I’m upright again, and the rekh skewers itself on the blade.
The stampede is almost past us, and I take up station beside Ashlynn to ward off any rekh that comes too close.
The final stragglers pass us, and then the thunder grows distant again.
I take a deep breath and take in the pile of dead rekh in a pool of cold predator blood. I mostly do it to not have to look down myself. I know this battle left its marks on me.
I turn to look at Ashlynn, a much more pleasant sight.
Or so I thought. She’s curled up on the ground, mewling. “Ahmsarri ahmsarri ahmsarri…”
I squat down beside her. “They’re gone. They didn’t want us at all. They were just running, and we were in their way.”
She blinks and peers at me with red-rimmed eyes. “Ohmaigahd, yur bleedin!”
I nod, not sure what her alien utterings meant. “Were you injured in the fall?”
She sniffles and sits up. “No. I’m fine. But you…”
I finally look down myself.
I’m covered in blood, as expected. But not all of it is rekh blood. Three parallel gashes run across my chest, and there’s a deeper one along one thigh. The soft touch I felt was a rekh claw, as I suspected. Thankfully, it mostly hit one stripe, or the damage would have been a lot worse. “It’s only fair,” I say lightly. “After all, I hurt them as much as I could.”
Ashlynn slowly gets to her feet, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry I fell. I was uncomfortable and I wanted to adjust my position. But the branch was so slippery…”
“I chose the tree badly,” I agree, not wanting her to keep blaming herself. “The bark is too smooth. Impossible to stay up there.”
She comes closer and looks up at me. “If I hadn’t fallen, you would have been just fine. I saw how you fought them. It looked so easy.”
I take a heartbeat to ponder it, myself. “It was easy. Compared to what it would have been like if they had been out to get us. They only attacked from one side, while most of them passed and ran on. Neither of us would have survived a determined attack from all those rekh.”
Ashlynn wipes her eyes a final time. “We have to clean your injuries. I have things for doing that. Sit down, please.” She gestures to a fallen tree.
I walk over there and sit down, glad to take some weight off my feet. There is a worrying sting from my thigh and chest.
I allow myself a little time to just observe Ashlynn when she opens her bag and takes out a smaller bag. She’s so graceful, it’s all I can do to not stare. But I suspect my smile is somewhat sheepish.
She takes out a small pot with a wooden lid that’s very firmly tightened. Then she studies my chest. “Pretty deep. But your stripes saved you.”
“I think that’s why they’re there.”
“We think so, too.” She smears a little bit of a silvery substance onto the gashes. There’s a slight tingling sensation, and the sting turns into a mild itch.
“An alien potion?” I guess.
“From the spaceship where we’re going. It cleans the wound and will help it heal faster.”
“It is a precious substance,” I observe. “You shouldn’t use it on this humble warrior who is not even your tribesman.”
“We’d use this on anyone who needed it, a tribe member or not. And it’s the least I can do after I fell. Seems I’m only making trouble for you.”
5
- Ashlynn -
I smear the nanogel on his wounds, sticky with dark blood.
I can feel his eyes on me.
“The jungle is always full of trouble,” he rumbles so my hands tremble on his chest. “I doubt you could make more of it.”
He’s being very kind. First, I don’t trust his judgement about the gatagank, and then I can’t even hold on to a branch, making me fall down and take him out of his flow state. If I’d just stayed where he put me and toughed out that discomfort, I wouldn’t have fallen and he wouldn’t have these wounds. “I think I succeeded. You’re great with that sword. If I hadn’t fallen, you would have killed all of those rekh.”
He shrugs. “Probably not. They weren’t after me. But nothing is certain in battles. And anyway, it is my mission to protect you. It is not your mission to keep me out of trouble.”
“Wouldn’t hurt if I didn’t keep getting myself into it. Let’s see that thigh.”
I wince at the depth of the injury, then apply the nanogel. At least there will be no infections now, and the cuts will heal very fast and leave scars that’ll be much smaller than otherwise.
I finish up and replace the tight lid on the pot, not looking Juri’ex in the eye.
“Thank you,” he says and watches as the gel turns milky and seeps into the wounds by itself. “The pain is gone. Truly a wondrous substance.”
I wrap the Stone Age first-aid kit back up in the bag and put it over my shoulder. “Should we keep going?”
Damn, I’m being so cold with him. But I don’t know what to do with myself. Despite his kind words, he must be disappointed in my lack of jungle skills. He doesn’t show it, and that’s very kind of him. Really very kind and generous. And I always had a soft spot for kind guys. There wasn’t that much kindness at home.
Dammit. I don’t want to get too attached to this man when I am doing everything I can to leave his planet.
He rummages through the bag fastened to his waist. “Soon. I need something first.”
He takes out a wooden flask, shakes it, opens it, and puts it to his lips. Then he wipes his mouth and holds the flask out to me. “Try some. We both need our strength. This was a difficult thing for both of us.”
“No thanks.”
“As you wish.” He replaces the flask in his bag and stands up, towering over me. “I don’t like that herd of rekh. Or the gataganks. They are both unusual events. I think we should change our route. The straightest one seems to only bring us into danger. Which way to the spaceship?”
I consult Phoebe’s map, check the position of the sun, and point. “About there.”
“That’s where the unusual Bigs appear to be coming from. Let’s turn to the left for a while and walk in a half-circle. It will be longer, but hopefully safer.”
“Okay.” I’m not going to doubt his judgment this time.
We keep walking through the jungle, silently and on our guard. I dropped my spear back at the first gatagank encounter, but at least I can scream if I see something weird.
Shit. Why do I have to be so useless? I’m sure Juri’ex would never have agreed to come if he’d known how clumsy and inept I am.
Thankfully, he has grace and competence for two.
Three, even. More. After all, he is an alien here, too. But he’s more attuned to Xren than I ever was to Earth. He walks effortlessly, ducks under branches, holds them up for me, pulls twigs out of my way, and makes my progress as easy as possible. While still being perfectly alert for dangers.
His turquoise stripes glow with health and youth. I was told the other cavemen referred to him as a youngster, but he can’t be much younger than me. His muscles flex and roll with each step he takes, and whenever he gets too far ahead, I speed up to be inside his sphere of safety. It is just like the other girls describe it. That feeling of safety close to a caveman is new and pleasant. I feel that there’s no danger from him, but he will protect me from everything.
And he has done exactly that for me. I don’t blame the married girls for being addicted to this feeling.
Juri’ex is great, and when I return to the village I will tell them.
I let my thoughts wander. Every other girl that’s been alone in the jungle with a caveman has come back engaged and pregnant. And I have felt small pangs of envy when I see how truly happy they are. I remember the feeling of being part of a couple. But only vaguely. It’s been a while for me. A couple of years, easy. Even then, I’m pretty sure I never had those starry eyes that all the married girls walk around with permanently.
I watch the broad back in front of me. What would it be like? To be able to hold on to that body right there? Feel his warmth, his heartbeat, his scent? Stroke his skin, trace those alien stripes with my fingers? Feeling his huge hand stroking me? My hips, maybe? Or a little further back?
I put my hand down in my pocket and squeeze the secret contents. Earth. Think of Earth. I just want to go home. I don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize me going home again.
The girls all seem to agree that if you come back to Earth with a big grin on your face and an alien husband and a half-alien kid in tow, you’ll be spending the next decade in quarantine or solitary confinement while the government uses you as a lab rat and makes absolutely sure that you’re not going to be a huge danger to Earth. And you might never see your kids and husband again. To me, that scenario seems a little dark. I don’t think it would get that bad. Sure, going home won’t be as easy as just landing a flying saucer in Nelson Park and saying ‘look at my hunky husband! He’s an alien!’ There will be complications. Because there always are. It will be better to be unencumbered. Unattached. Single.
