by Louise Wise
Jenny didn’t look back. Her sight was pure tunnel vision as she centered on her survival. Unseen creatures screeched after her, adding to her nightmare. But her ears were for the outlandish animal behind crashing through the undergrowth. With every step she took, it gained on her by several more.
The wolf was close, she could hear its expelling of breath every time its front legs made contact with the ground.
With an anguished cry, she tripped, and fell headlong to the ground. Clawing at earth, her breath wheezing, she felt herself falling further still. Her hands snatched at air, and then she landed.
Her landing was soft, wet - smelly.
She put her hand down to lever herself up, and touched soft, rotten tissue. She turned to look, and a horrified scream died, stillborn, in her throat.
It was the missing body from the ship.
She began to stand her hands reaching for the edge of the grave, but from above a huge clawed hand swiped at her face. Jenny shrank back screaming.
The wolf’s body was warm and incredibly heavy when it fell on her. She braced herself, expecting to be ripped apart. It took a long moment before she realized the teeth were snarling no longer. The animal was dead.
She pushed the creature off. Its body was stiffening already. She stared at it - the creature was beyond description; beyond the understanding of her brain. She closed her eyes against the sight and shivered. She felt frozen with fear, and her mind cried for normality and reason in her new world.
Finally, she hauled herself out. Kneeling and gulping in fresh air, she felt, more than noticed, movement. Looking up sharply, her body geared for flight, she saw the alien. He was unmasked.
An Indian, was her first thought. A Native American Indian. His hair was long and very black, his face was bare of hair and was dirty; bloodied. His nose was flat, and his cheekbones broad. But it was his eyes that alerted her that he wasn’t a Native American. They were completely black; black, dry orbs in a battered face.
One side of his face had an ugly thick scar, which ran from the corner of his mouth up to the top of his ear. Part of his bottom lip was missing, revealing several gaps in his lower teeth, which were set in a dark pink gum. Zigzags of scars pitted his jaw and throat. The hands, seen before, were badly scarred as if sometime ago they had fought in a fire. Jenny wondered if that had been the spaceship’s fire. She looked at the hands again. Empty. Then how did he kill the wolf?
She moved backwards on her bottom, her eyes never leaving the silent figure of the alien. He secreted a dangerous confidence.
He regarded her with no expression, then turned and walked away. Jenny’s hands cupped her mouth, and she breathed deeply. Breathed in the musky stench of the dead body and she sharply removed her hands from her face and looked at them. They were grimy and damp from decomposed alien tissue.
He rescued me! Her thoughts whirled in her mind.
Circumstances had brought him to this planet, and somehow he had survived the destruction of his craft. He had made a life here, endured the wolves and the cold. He lived off the land, and had made it his home.
He could help me. More words, and ones she didn’t care for. The man was an alien, an unknown, unheard-of species from a planet different to hers.
He looks more human and stable than anything I’ve seen on this cold and dank planet so far. Her inner thoughts were becoming stronger, arguing with the logic of her brain.
She stood up, her legs shaking, and saw she had stumbled on a graveyard. There were mounds of disturbed earth. She looked in the direction where the alien had disappeared, and a wave of her sympathy followed after him.
*
He picked a bunch of green fruit from a tree. The fruit was round, large and soft. He twisted one off its stem, and took a bite. It wasn’t particularly pleasant to eat (better for its juice), but it was the first edible fruit after the winter months. He also knew the human was following, and probably hungry.
He placed the bunch on the ground and moved away. Behind, he heard her crash through the trees. A smile curved his mouth as he realized she was probably trying to shadow him quietly. The amusement surprised him, and made him realize he hadn’t had anything to laugh or smile about for a long time.
He stopped and leaned against a tree. Obscured by its branches he watched the human without her noticing.
It took her only a moment to decide to follow him. She kept a safe distance, but stopped with a held breath every time he paused. But he never looked her way, and was seemingly unaware of his secret shadow.
She watched him pick bunched green fruit high from a tree. It was the same type of tree that she had sheltered in on her first night here, and the fruit had gone unnoticed, as the monkey creature had, because the dense leaves had kept everything hidden. She crouched behind a red, spiny bush, and watched with envy as he ate.
He turned, and walked away, disappearing into the dark forest. Jenny stood up, torn by following him and the fruit he dropped to the ground. Her stomach growled, and saliva filled her mouth.
Giving in she ran over, falling to her knees on reaching the fruit, like a woman starved. She twisted off a single fruit from the thick stem, raised it to her mouth, and bit. The outer skin was tough, but the flesh was surprisingly soft like a peach. The taste was bitter sweet, perfect to her hungry stomach.
*
He watched. She was so small; her hands barely able to reach round the fruit. Without his help she would last maybe until nightfall.
He pursed his lips thoughtfully, his eyes and thoughts lingering on the curves of her body, and heat flared his senses.
He jerked his longing gaze away. He had, at last, a companion and the mere prospect of companionship would keep his more primitive urges at bay. He would see to it. He let go of the branch and it sprang back with a snap.
The female looked up, following the noise of the branch with her eyes. Fruit flesh stuck around her mouth and dribbled down her chin. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, and rose.
“Hello,” she called blindly.
Surprised, he swung round. She still couldn’t see him but he could see her, clearly.
“My name’s Jenny. I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but you saved my life back there. The wolf would’ve killed me.”
She stood holding the fruit; her mouth wet and glistening where she had failed to remove all of the stickiness. He stepped away from the tree, and watched, with fascination, the look of fear wash over her face.
He noticed the tiny swallowing movements in her throat, and the red weals on her skin caused by his own hands yesterday. He could smell the fear that she tried hard to control, and the smell had intensified the moment he stepped into her line of vision.
She hadn’t realized he was this near, and her earlier thoughts of making friends dissolved as quickly as sugar in hot water.
“Woman,” he said, his lips exaggerating the two syllables.
Jenny took a step backwards, as he took one forwards.
“Human, earth,” he said.
She took another backward step, and then stopped with her feet spread wide apart as if to brace herself from taking anymore. She drew on air and forced herself to meet his strange gaze.
“Are you stranded here, too? Maybe w-we could help one another…?” she finished lamely.
The black eyes continued to regard her, the gaze burning into the top of her lowered head. Nervous, knowing the next move was his, Jenny trained her eyes on his hands. The grubby, long fingers twitched, and then the fists balled, sending her head rearing up with fear widening her eyes. But the alien had merely turned, and walked away.
Hesitating a fraction, she began to follow him again. She really had nothing to lose, and his presence offered some sort of security that she wasn’t about to turn down. Somehow, his hands around her throat were lost in the deepest part of memory as her survival instincts screamed she needed him, or at least the loan of a cabin in the decaying spaceship until Bodie and Matt rescued her.
He reached the spacecraft, and stepped inside. The poignant smell of his kill early this morning barely registered against the awareness of the human following him. He purposely left the door open; knowing the spaceship was her only safe shelter from the natives and for his own selfish reasons he felt he had to keep her safe.
He entered the cabin wearily, and sitting heavily on the bed, he began to pull off his boots. Pain, from his injured foot, shot up his leg and he grunted. Testing the toes he wriggled them, and all but one responded. He fell back on the bed snatching up the bottled alcohol. The bottle felt strangely light, and when he tipped it against his mouth, only a small drop reached his tongue.
He stared at it with growing confusion. Moving slightly, he noticed a single hair on his pillow. He picked it up. Red. His fingers crushed the bottle and he hurled it against the opposite wall.
“The last bottle!” he roared in his foreign tongue. “She’s drunk my last bottle!”
Jenny entered the navigation room. After a slight hesitation she picked up a chair and sat on it, her feet resting on another. She kept her eyes fixed to the dim passageway for his presence. After rescuing her, Jenny believed the alien wouldn’t harm her. But she wasn’t naive. Here were a man and a woman on a desolate planet. The man had brute strength, the woman only a brain.
And a body.
Jenny shivered and shook her head to dislodge the thought. Prostitute herself to an alien? If she weren’t so scared, she’d be disgusted.
Her gaze travelled around the large room. It was dim and smelly but very spacious compared to the winding corridors and tiny cabins. She noticed something lying on the ground, and bent towards it. She recognized it as the small grey, buzzing device that the alien had pointed at her. It was the size of a mobile phone with buttons and a small screen, but one end appeared hollow and thinned out until it was almost flat.
The screen on this small machine was cracked, and as her thoughts drifted, she noticed a couple more discarded around the room. Holding the machine tightly in both hands, she snapped it neatly in half. Inside there were colored metals and wires, which were the mechanics of the machine, and if she had hoped to discover what the device was, other than identify the human species to the alien, she was disappointed.
She started, her eyes flaring wide. The noise she had heard echoed up the corridor. With her nerve failing, she jumped to her feet allowing the broken appliance fall to the floor. She could already hear heavy footsteps pounding up the corridor as she dashed across to the lobby.
At the exit she slipped in a puddle of animal blood, and fell sprawling to the ground. Not bothering to stand, she scrambled out of the doorway on her stomach, but her ankles were seized and she was dragged back inside.
She was pulled, with force, across the floor, then abruptly released to roll violently until she hit the opposite wall. She lowered her hands, which had instinctively risen to shield her head against the impact, and peered fearfully at her attacker.
His feet, bare and soiled, were planted wide apart, and his naked chest was rising and falling rapidly. He threw something, and she covered her head again. The crushed bottle caught her on the back of the hand, and her knuckles stung from the pain. She stifled a shocked cry, and peered through her fingers at the alien, her stomach rolling and twisting like waves.
He reeled off a string of words, and she flinched at the tone. He bent towards her, and she tried to hide within the wall, but she was lifted by the front of her suit, and hung like a rag doll from his hands. Her chin began to tremble.
She was deflated - all fight fled her body.
“I’m sorry.” Tears over-spilled and fell in an endless rush. “I thought you’d gone. I thought you were on Taurus, th-that’s w-why I drank it.”
She was shaken roughly, her head rocking on her shoulders, and then dropped. The instant she hit the floor she curled herself into the fetal position, her arms covering her head.
Her senses were acute to sound, and her brain nagged her to flee, but she continued to lie still - the old, old trick: play dead. It was miraculous how prehistoric instincts had quickly reasserted their position in her life.
Finally, the bare feet walked away. But she continued to lay in a curled ball, the dismembered animal her neighbor; and wondered if the quality of her life would be worth the struggle to survive.
SIX
Numb and shaken, and feeling strangely betrayed, Jenny left the spaceship. Even this one refuge was no longer safe. She felt vulnerable, alone and totally pathetic, and she couldn’t think straight long enough to be of any use to herself.
She began walking aimlessly, and unconsciously followed the tracks the buggy left yesterday. Was it only yesterday? She felt she’d been here years already. She looked upwards, the movement hopeful, but all she saw was an empty blue sky with a pale image of a sun and the bright, white star of its sister.
She looked back at the tracks and realized, with hope clutching her heart, the buggy might not have been taken onboard after all. With a new purpose to her stride she hurried forwards, but the ground was hardening and the imprints faded with every new step she took. She noticed several flattened flower heads and looked around for further marks the buggy may have left behind.
She continued on, but there was no other evidence that the buggy had ever been there at all.
CRACK!
She spun round. A tall tree was rocking crazily in the air, singing as it swung.
The coiled trees!
She was near! She was oh so near where they had brought Taurus into land. She hoped the buggy hadn’t been taken onboard. With her fingers childishly crossed, she hurried forward, not bothering with prints or squashed flowers. She knew just beyond the trees she would see evidence of Taurus’s presence, and hopefully the buggy.
The homicidal plant confirmed it, and as Jenny neared, she saw Bodie’s wrist communicator still lying on the ground next to it.
Jenny sensibly left it where it was, and hurried onwards.
She stopped, her mouth parting in delight. Then she ran, laughing like a mad woman. The doors of the buggy were open; Bodie and Matt had been in a hurry. Unfortunately, the power hadn’t been turned off and the engine still hummed, but jubilant, she climbed in and closed the door. She pressed a button and the roof of the buggy swept over her head and sealed itself tightly. She felt instantly protected.
“Oh, thank God, thank God.” She laughed out loud and bounced up and down on the seat. Beside her, on the passenger seat, was the other torch and telescope. She opened the dashboard and found a sharp pocket knife, a small digital camera and an instruction book for the buggy.
Sudden tears of gratitude blurred her vision, and her hands unexpectedly began to shake, then she was crying; blubbering like a baby. It was as though her body had forced itself to be strong until now.
The engine spluttered. Jenny rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and told herself to concentrate. In their haste and eagerness to explore the planet, the solar reflectors were still their protective covering on Taurus. The battery had worn low; she’d have to be careful. She should choose her location, somewhere near water, park the buggy, and then maybe erect some sort of shelter for herself.
As thoughts and ideas spun around, she remembered the two-way transmitter. With trembling fingers she began to turn the dial. The static crackled fiercely.
“Taurus?” she asked, her heart in her throat.
“Taurus XI receiving.” the pause was long. “Jen?”
“That’s right, Commander. Jennifer Daykin reporting back to Taurus XI.”
“Are you all right?”
“What d’you think - w-what d’you c-care?” her voice shook. “We thought you were behind us,” came Matt’s voice.
“Of course you did,” she replied. “That’s why you took off without me. How could you! “
Bodie’s voice became gruff with guilt. “I’m sorry, love, I really am. Kate made Taurus airborne as soon as were through the inner portal.” He sighed. “The ov
erride’s corrupted, and I think it’s fogged her brain somehow. She assured us you’d entered via the loading bay with the buggy. We turned around as soon as we realized her mistake.”
“Then why aren’t you here?”
“We were hit by the asteroids again, but this time they hit us bad. There’s no power, and we’re just orbiting.”
Jenny closed her eyes. But simply hearing his voice was a comfort, it told her she wasn’t totally deserted.
“How did you manage to escape from the alien? You must completely hide away until we can come back for you.”
Jenny replied with a humorless laugh. “Oh, I’m hiding all right! We aren’t exactly the best of friends. He didn’t take too kindly to me drinking all his whisky. “
“ What?
Jenny laughed again, this time a small amount of hysteria edged it. “I thought he had followed you back to Taurus, and was using it to fly himself home. I went back to the ship and found a type of alcoholic drink and, well, I drank it. It was very nice.”
“Was that wise?”
She imagined Bodie raking his hair, which he often did when he thought somebody had done something particularly silly, and she almost giggled, but then she was plunged into a depressive mood as her imagination took her back to Taurus and warmth, and where there was safety in numbers.
*
As they were talking over the airwaves, the alien was sitting on the pebbly beach watching the waves, crackling with ice, roll lazily in and back out again. He finished a green fruit, and threw the stone moodily into the ocean.
He hadn’t wanted to be hard on her; hadn’t really meant to hurt her. But she didn’t know what it was like to be the only person left alive while all around were the graves of his kind whom he would never see again… the alcohol had been a poor source of comfort.
But loneliness had taught him an invaluable lesson, and he was determined not to destroy this great gift by taking her presence for granted.
He took out the small computer. The tiny screen flashed and he chose a mode, then settled against a tall, shiny tree, its trunk so smooth it shone. The computer’s voice spoke several sentences, and the alien copied each one, his voice deliberately slow.
