by Reagan Woods
They were camped some distance from the burnt husk of the fort, but they’d surrounded the place with surveillance devices. Rusted chain link fence, laser scorched and sagging, topped with shiny razor wire still stood haphazardly in some spots around the grounds. Calyx had ventured close enough to see that most of the buildings were nothing more than piles of ruined concrete and dead electrical wires. The stench of rotten vegetation, feces and un-washed bodies hung heavy around the only remaining building with a roof. He didn’t like that the Earthers were barely surviving in squalor when they could have medical treatment and sanitation with simple transport to a work camp.
“Any news on when we move?” Calyx asked, frustration with the whole situation making him scowl as he pulled himself onto the two-person hover platform where Silex kept watch. A quick scan of the hover screen disappointed his hope for new orders.
Silex scrubbed a hand over his bald head and sat up to make room on the cloaked surveillance vehicle. “I doubt it will be today.”
Calyx broke open a ration bar and offered one to his patrol partner, eyes sweeping the dense wetlands for movement. “Why? What’s the delay? Our last deployment was nothing like this.”
“Rikvar III was inhabited by insectoids with hive mentality.” Silex bit into his bar thoughtfully. “We rolled through there and stripped the planet bare in a matter of months.”
“Exactly.” Calyx took a swig from his canteen and looked around the dying swamp with a curled lip. “Now, there are people here - possibly worth keeping alive - and a whole planet to consider. This is the biggest acquisition for the CGA in hundreds of years. We should move faster.”
“You just want the scientists to get the compatibility studies underway,” Silex teased. “Or maybe you feel sorry for the natives. They did this to themselves, by the way.” He paused to take a hearty bite of his bar. Mouth full, he went on, “Either way, you’re going soft.”
“It’s not soft to dislike needless suffering,” Calyx shot back.
Silex chewed in silence for several moments. “This lung sickness is wide-spread, a pandemic, and it’s going to take the old ones. Soon. I think that’s what the General and the Council want. A whole generation of Earthers who’ve never known anything but war. They’ll be so grateful for peace that they’ll do whatever is asked of them.”
“That doesn’t seem like something the General would plot,” Calyx hedged uncertainly.
“It sounds just like the Council,” Silex concluded, dusting crumbs from his fingers absently. “I’m going to get closer, see what’s going on in there.”
“I’ll go with you.” Calyx jumped to gather his gear. He hadn’t spoken to Tara since helping her drag the three-hundred-pound monster back to her camp. It bothered him that no one had come out to investigate their arrival or help her.
She’d set about butchering the beast with fierce determination immediately. The stubborn female wouldn’t let either Corian help, and they’d backed off, eventually leaving her to her own devices.
In this moment, Calyx regretted letting her push him out. He knew she feared them, thought they were lunatics and didn’t want them near the other Earthers. That was a sentiment he could respect until his orders came through. To give her peace, against his better judgement, they’d left. However, even with a source of fresh water, at some point, their food supply would run low. He needed tangible proof that the female with the determined eyes was well.
Chapter 14
Time spun differently inside the reconditioner; stretching thin and doubling up thick like taffy on a pull. The alien machine analyzed its subject’s brain, infiltrated and catalogued private memories and used those memories as gateways for overt cultural lessons as well as subtle personality reprogramming.
Coming out of the reconditioner was something Tara would be hard pressed to explain to someone who’d never experienced it. When she awoke from her hour lesson, she’d spent days being groomed by her elderly Doranos Grandmama for a position as a bed slave. That was a gag-inducing scenario, and what had been – her loving, close relationship with Grandmama – warred with the implanted experiences.
After a few moments of struggling beneath her memories like a drowning woman inside her own head, Tara broke through. No matter what the reconditioner made her believe, Grandmama was dead. Tara had seen her die with her own eyes. Nothing could overwrite the gut-wrenching pain of losing her.
Angry as she was with Calyx right now, he’d saved her life more than once, and he’d been there for her when Grandmama passed. The hurt rejection she felt after last night notwithstanding, he’d been a friend when she needed one most.
By the time the aliens arrived, only one building with a roof stood at Fort Burro. That it was an admin building and not a barracks didn’t stop the remaining inhabitants from sheltering there. The glass had long since shattered out of the windows and the smell of scorched plasterboard and melted plastic clung to everything within the concrete shell, but the pock-marked linoleum was blessedly cool against Tara’s fevered skin.
In more lucid moments, she felt grateful that she’d had the foresight to smoke thin strips of the gator meat before exhaustion sunk relentless teeth into her. Burying Nina and Buck yesterday after a grueling twelve-hours butchering the gator had wiped out her reserves. Instead of being afraid of the crazy soldiers, she should have put them to work when they offered help. At the time, she hadn’t realized two more of her little family would pass on within hours.
After praying over the bodies of her dead friends, she’d curled up on the nasty floor next to Grandmama and wept with hopeless exhaustion.
“Hush now, darling girl,” Grandmama said, her rich voice cracking with sorrow as she wrapped her frail arms around Tara’s shaking shoulders. “You’re doing the work of twenty men, baby. Take a little rest. Things will be better when you wake up.”
“I thought the meat would help,” Tara hiccoughed, nuzzling into Grandmama’s embrace. “We have water, but it’s not enough. We need medicine. Antibiotics. I’ve searched this place high and low. The soldiers left us with nothing but trash. If we hadn’t secreted our water purification tabs, we’d be dead already. Now, we’re running low on those, too.”
Grandmama’s chest rattled and she coughed weakly. “We all have to go sometime, baby girl. I like to believe it’s not the end of our friends, simply the end of their suffering. Whatever’s next, it’s bound to be a damned sight better than this. So, don’t cry too much, dearest.”
Tara kissed her Grandmama’s walnut cheek, nuzzling in a bit. Beneath the stench of sweat and sickness, she still smelled like Grandmama, like the woman who’d protected her and loved her for as long as she could remember. “I love you, Grandmama.”
“I love you, baby girl. Never forget that,” she whispered. “Sleep now.”
A constant buzz-whoosh noise like a malfunctioning alarm clock made her slumber restless and unfulfilling. She needed to get up, to check on Philip and Tommaso, to take water to Buelah and Cindy and make sure everyone was eating, but she was still so tired.
“We’re not here to hurt you,” an unfamiliar voice growled over the buzz-whoosh-buzz-whoosh.
“I don’t think there’s much we could do to stop you if you were.” That was Grandmama. She sounded terrible to Tara’s ears. “My baby girl here, she needs help though, so don’t you be getting any ideas in your head about hurtin’ her.”
“I’ve met Tara before.” This was a voice she knew, but how? Her head was muzzy, and thinking was a chore. “She’s strong and brave. I have no intention of hurting her.”
“Good,” Grandmama said faintly. “Then, for the love of God, help her.”
Another person joined the conversation. Tara couldn’t catch the rest of what was said, and she realized they were moving away from her.
“Tara, wake now!” It was the soldier…the crazy man. The one who thought he was an alien. Calyx. What was he doing here? Fingers stretched her heavy eyelids open. “Can you hear me? Wake up, Tara!
”
The bright light was too much for her sensitive eyes. “Stop,” she managed weakly. “Sotired.”
Buzz-whoosh. Buzz-whoosh. Buzz-whoosh. The annoying drone got louder. The voice began to speak in words she didn’t understand all the while she heard the grating buzz-whoosh.
“Tara,” the soldier crooned. “Open those pretty eyes. Good. That’s good,” he encouraged as she blinked up at his quicksilver irises. Today, the helmet was gone, and his face looked strained beneath the crazy tattoos. The deep brown hair at his temples dripped sweat as he knelt over her. “I’m going to help you sit.”
A warm hand behind her neck lifted her and he propped her against the exposed cinderblock wall like a ragdoll. Slumping sideways, she saw the others’ bedrolls, but it looked like they were alone. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows on the floor.
Buzz-whoosh. Buzz-whoosh. “Wha-.” A wet cough gurgled out. “That noise. What is it?”
“I can’t believe I didn’t check on you sooner,” he muttered. “That’s your lungs, little Earther.”
What did he mean her lungs? Her lungs were just fine, thank you very much. Only, now that she thought about it, her chest felt heavy and tight, the air she sucked in was stale and did nothing to sate her craving for crisp, cool oxygen. Deliberately, she slowed her breathing. The buzz-whoosh slowed as well.
Calyx’s mouth formed a hard line as he pawed through his supply pack and came up with a small disc.
“If you found that here, it’s expired,” she wheezed, somewhat hysterically. Darkness crept over the edges of her vision, a not-so-subtle clue that talking was bad.
He frowned, shaking the disk until it spit a small, clear stick, like a toothpick, into his palm. “What?”
“It looks like a birth control dispenser I saw in an old magazine ad.”
“This is medicine, but not that kind,” he smiled, pushing her unruly hair from her forehead. “It…should help.” He paused to search her face. “The rest of my unit has better supplies, but they might not have orders to come here for days. You look terrible, and I’m afraid to wait.”
Listening to the buzz-whoosh, buzz-whoosh, she heard the liquid in her lungs clearly now. “Where is Grandmama?” She appreciated that he was trying to help her, but she didn’t want to take medicine from this crazy man. For all she knew, she might end up with silver eyes and delusions.
“Tara, look at me.” Big hands cupped her face, compelling her to obey. His expression was somber as he continued, “You’re dying. This medicine is made for big, healthy Warriors. Do you understand? If I give it to any of these elderly people, it will certainly kill them,” he explained, clearly misinterpreting her reason for wanting her Grandmama. “You’re young and otherwise healthy, but it - the side effects are most…unpleasant.”
Her head spun in dizzy circles and she gripped his wrist tightly, trying to come to grips with her predicament. With the way she felt, imminent death didn’t seem all that much of a stretch. Who would take care of Grandmama if she died? “Answer a question, first?” He nodded, the jerky movement speaking of his impatience. “Do you really believe you’re an alien?”
“You’ll know the truth of my words soon enough,” he answered grimly. “I’m sorry, this isn’t going to be fun.”
There was a hot prick against her neck and the medicine burnt through her blood like an angry hornet stinging everything it touched. Not fun? Try excruciating.
Now, she lay here in the funky reclining chair of the reconditioner, taking stock. After Calyx gave her the medicine that night, her thoughts became disjointed, terrifying and unclear. But he’d saved her life. Again.
That desperate time, when everything had been so scary and so crazy, had linked them irrevocably. She’d lost Grandmama mere days later, on the first night of the official invasion. Because Calyx wasn’t a crazy PanAsian Union soldier: he really was an alien Warrior. More than that, he was the only person she’d met in a very long time with a sense of compassion, an inner core of goodness.
Rolling her head from side to side on the cushy surface, Tara realized two things: One, she was going to be late back to work if she didn’t get up, and two, she might have irrevocably lost an important friendship with the Warrior who’d saved her life countless times.
Chapter 15
Tara hurried out into the late morning sunshine thanking her lucky stars she was in a dormitory conveniently located to the kitchen. She thought of the huge camp like a target. The six-sided common building that housed the cafeteria, medical clinic and supply depot was the bull’s eye. A dusty gravel path surrounded the building and shot toward the various dorm buildings like spokes within a wheel. Between the paths were sad patches of grass where men and women, all garbed in somber black durafiber suited for their various jobs, congregated.
The dull roar of conversation surrounded her. A few people called out greetings which she absently returned as she quick-walked up the path. Stoic Corian Warriors, standing head and shoulders above the Earthers, posted watch over everyone and yet more patrolled the perimeter. A not-so-discreet survey verified that Calyx wasn’t among those in her immediate area, and she didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
They needed to talk, that much was clear, but if he didn’t come to her, it wasn’t going to happen. Her palm print gave her entry to the common building and the yard as well as any Earther dorm’s main hall; however, she couldn’t get beyond the circle of Earth dorms like she had last night without an escort.
Out of the corner of her eye, Tara caught sight of a familiar backpack bouncing through the crowd. She veered off the path and into the grass without really thinking about it, curiosity at the wheel.
Franny’s pack disappeared into a large group of ex-Western Central soldiers and Tara slowed, trying not to attract attention. They weren’t all bad guys, but they weren’t all good, either. It was just best to steer clear of them.
Casually, she skirted the gathered men in time to see a trail of long, dark hair whipping out of sight around the wall of the common building. Tara picked up the pace, determined to find out if Franny had found Nora’s escape route. She’d beg the other woman not to leave if she had to. Real friends were hard to find.
Panting, she rounded the corner of the common building at a trot and bounced off a brick wall. At least, that’s what it felt like.
“Tara!” Calyx’s surprise quickly morphed to concern as he scooped her off the ground and set her on her feet. “Are you hurt?” His hands lingered at her shoulders.
“Nope,” she muttered resolutely, refusing to look at him. Instead, she peered over her shoulder in dismay at her dusty bottom. It was all she could do to pretend the steadying hold he had around her upper arms didn’t make her ache to jerk his mouth down for a kiss. Yes, if she were honest, the scent of him, that clean, male musk, did hit her between the legs and make her squirm. But she was ignoring that today. Because, dammit, she had will power.
Her hands worked furiously to remove the white gravel dust from the seat of her black pants. Slowly, turned back around to face him. “Just completely embarrassed.”
“No one saw you fall but me,” he said - as if that were a comfort. His big hands squeezed her shoulders reassuringly. “What are you doing back here? You should be in the kitchen.”
Oh. Yeah. Leaning to the side, she peeked around his broad body. “You didn’t happen to see Franny run past, did you?”
“Who is Franny?” He pulled her upright, a crooked finger hooking her chin to force eye contact.
Tara briefly looked into his concerned face as she stepped out of his reach. Gosh, he was pretty. “Um.”
Resist the urge to jump the hot guy, Tara. Resist. Resist. Resist. With a mental head smack, she dropped her gaze to his chin and took another step back – it was safer that way. The last thing she wanted was to reinforce his conviction that she was a nymphomaniac.
“She works in the kitchen with me. Golden skin, long, I mean long, brown hair, dark eyes. Ab
out this tall.” She reached a few inches higher than her own meagre five foot and a bit before letting her hand fall.
Calyx shook his head. “I confess, I had my mind on other things, but I don’t think I’ve seen her.”
“Okay, then.” Tara tugged the hem of her black shirt straight and backed away. “I’ve got to go.”
Quick as lightning, he spun her and pulled her tight to his side much like he had the day before when he’d rescued her from Shirok. “I’ll walk you.”
“No need,” she demurred, working an elbow between them.
This was the opportunity she’d been looking for. They needed to talk, to set things right between them. So, why did she want to rabbit away? Right. Because the urge to jump him wasn’t going away any time soon.
Calyx brushed off her attempt to extricate her person from his grip. “I insist.”
“Great,” she agreed flatly as he tucked her more firmly beneath his arm and swept her along so quickly her feet didn’t touch the ground.
Before she could work up the courage to speak, he was depositing her outside the swinging double doors of the kitchen. Inside, she could hear the lunch staff squawking. She usually greeted them and kept things on a timeline. A loud crash had her cringing. She needed to get in there, but…
“I will be close if you need me.” Calyx gave her a gentle nudge toward the doors.
He was already backing away when she spun around to face him. “Wait. Are we ever going to talk? I mean, about last night?” Way to play it cool, Tara.
His head swiveled left and right, checking that they were alone, she guessed, even as he closed the distance between them. “Soon,” he murmured, shining eyes intense as he gazed down at her. “Just not in public. If you advertise your weakness,” he broke off to flick a glance around again, a finger pressing her lips closed. “You’re likely to have more problems like the one yesterday.”
