This is stupid, he lectured himself angrily. There’s nothing special about this Earth girl. It’s just been a long time since I was able to talk to anyone, to be around them without wanting to crawl out of my own fucking skin. I’m just…Pathetic, sad, disgusting, stupid…all the harsh words he could apply to himself, any of them fit. Yet the one that rose to the surface of his mind was Nina’s. Lonely, she’d said. It must be so lonely.
Yes, that was it. He was so fucking lonely. He felt like a man who’d spent the last ten years in solitary confinement. But now, suddenly, he was out in the open air, breathing free at last, soaking in the sunshine. And Nina was the sun.
Reddix choked off that particular image as quickly as he could. Nina was nothing special. And as soon as this last bout of numbness ended he would start hating her just like he hated all the other pretty girls who stared at him with lust, making his flesh crawl with the strength of their petty emotions.
Get to work, he lectured himself. You haven’t got all day—however long a day lasts here. It might be really short—so get going while you still have some light to work with if you need to make outside repairs.
Taking his own advice, he began digging into the engine. But no matter how he tried, he couldn’t get the picture of Nina standing there, waiting for his touch. Couldn’t stop hearing her soft words when he’d wanted to touch her. “You can,” she’d said, her gold flecked eyes drowning deep. “If you want to.”
Gods how he wanted to. But he knew he couldn’t.
Chapter Fifteen
Nina sat up front in the pilot’s chair, wishing she could do something—anything—but think of Reddix. For a while she hunted for the emergency beacon, even though he had said it would do her no good without a Kindred’s handprint. It seemed important that she at least know where the damn thing was although she didn’t know what good the knowledge would do her. She imagined a scenario where she held her finger over the green agony button on the Hurkon collar’s controls and threatened to shock him if he didn’t activate the beacon. But somehow she just couldn’t picture herself really going through with it.
You might have to do more than just picture it, eecho, Mehoo-Jimmy’s voice warned in her mind. It might be the only way to get home again. You do what you have to in order to make that happen.
Yes, Nina supposed she would. If it came right down to it, she wanted to survive and see her home planet again. Still, she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She hated the idea of threatening Reddix when he had willingly placed himself in her power by wearing the agony collar.
Face it, Nina, she told herself. You don’t want to upset or threaten him because you’re starting to feel for him. Which is about the stupidest thing you could possibly do.
She knew it was true, but who could help feeling for him once they’d heard the big Kindred’s story? Nina was a very demonstrative person herself—she tended to touch a lot with those she loved—it was just the way she’d been raised. If someone was happy, you hugged them. If someone was sad or grieving, you put your arm around their shoulders. Kisses on the cheek, backrubs, squeezing a hand to show sympathy and support…these gestures were as much a part of her vocabulary as the words she spoke. The idea of never being able to touch anyone she loved, of never being able to let them touch her…it was pretty much the worst thing she could imagine. And for it to continue that way for ten years…
He must be so hungry, she couldn’t help thinking. So hungry to touch and be touched. Once more she remembered the heat of his palm as his big hand hovered over her cheek. She’d almost felt the longing emanating from him. The need to make contact however briefly…
A movement outside the windshield of the ship caught her eye. The planet outside was, as far as she could tell, a vast plane filled with high pale purple-gray grass. It waved gently and monotonously under the pale green sky, and Nina had long since stopped staring at it. Except for the strange colors, she might almost be on a Midwestern prairie on Earth.
But now the purple grass seemed to be ruffling in a different direction—almost as though something was coming toward her—toward the ship. Nina sat up straight in the pilot’s chair and leaned forward, staring intently at the scene outside the ship. What was happening?
Suddenly, an object came sailing out of the air and hit the windshield with a heavy thump.
“Oh!” Nina gasped and sat back in the oversized chair, one hand pressed between breasts. What had hit the ship?
She tried to sort out her confused impressions. It had been big and round and dark gray—about the size of a beach ball. In fact, it had looked remarkably like a beach ball. But the thud against the side of the ship had been substantial—as though the thing had weighed a ton—more in the neighborhood of a medicine ball you might find in an old fashioned gym than a child’s inflatable toy.
The tall grass ruffled outside the ship again, and Nina felt a chill go through her. Who was out there? And were they going to start lobbing more things at the ship? It had already been shot up by the police back home and battered by the wormhole and the crash landing—how much more abuse could the little craft take?
Suddenly, Reddix appeared right behind her.
“What was that?” he demanded, his voice a low, threatening growl. “I felt something.”
“An object hit the ship—something dark gray and round,” Nina said. She eyed the sleek black weapon in his fist. “What’s that?”
“A blaster,” he said shortly. “I was hoping whatever might live on this planet would leave us alone until we got out of here. But if they want to get aggressive, I’m ready.”
“Good.” Nina was a firm proponent of gun control back home, but that was because she firmly believed nobody ought to be able to buy an assault rifle for “self-defense.” Here in the wilds on this Godforsaken planet a million light years from home, she found herself hoping that Reddix’s weapon had plenty of stopping power. This was a place where an assault rifle or something similar might come in handy.
The grass outside ruffled again, and then something came into view—something huge.
Nina had spent years babysitting a little boy who lived down the block from her who was obsessed with dinosaurs. Having watched plenty of documentaries on the prehistoric monsters, she thought this alien creature looked kind of like…
“It’s a triceratops,” she muttered.
Reddix frowned. “What?”
Nina shook her head. “Nothing. It’s…it looks like an animal that used to live on Earth millions of years ago. Well, kind of, anyway.”
Because this triceratops was covered in long, bright purple hair. Also, its three horns seemed to wiggle strangely—that was until she realized they weren’t horns at all but tentacles.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, putting a hand to her mouth. “It’s not really a triceratops at all. What is that thing?”
“Nothing good.” Reddix sounded grim, and he tightened his grip on the blaster.
“What do we do?” Nina asked.
“Nothing. We wait. Watch it through the viewscreen.” He gestured at what Nina had been thinking of as the windshield. “If it leaves us alone, we leave it alone. If it bothers us—menaces the ship—I’ll go out and give it a little incentive to make itself scarce.”
“Oh,” Nina whispered. She stared again at the big purple triceratops thing. When it jerked its head up and down, the long hair flopped out of its face, and she could see three big, glaring yellow eyes at the top of its head, just under the two tentacles placed on its forehead. The gesture reminded her of a sheep dog jerking its head to get the hair out of its eyes—if a sheep dog was huge and weighed two or three tons, that was.
The thing came right up to the ship and actually put its long, beak-like snout right up to the viewscreen. The horn-tentacle on the tip of its nose waved against the glass like an elephant’s trunk. It made snuffling noises and nudged the screen, making Nina gasp and shrink back farther into the chair.
“Is it…can it get in? Can it
break the glass?” she asked Reddix in a whisper.
He shook his head. “Don’t think so. But a creature that size could do considerable damage if it wanted to. Let’s hope it loses interest.”
But the purple tentacled triceratops didn’t seem to be losing interest at all. In fact, if anything, it was becoming even more intrigued by the ship. It snuffled all over the viewscreen and then lowered its massive head and began snuffling the underbelly of the ship. Nina gripped the armrests of the pilot’s chair, her knuckles white, as she heard its deep sniffing sounds coming from somewhere beneath her feet.
Then the ship lurched.
She gave a muffled shriek and nearly tumbled out of the chair. Only Reddix’s hand on her shoulder saved her. There was another lurch, more violent than before, and the ship shook.
“What is it—what’s it doing?” she gasped.
“Trying to turn the ship over—trying to make us vulnerable. That’s it.” He stalked toward the door. “I’m going out.”
“Be careful!” Nina begged.
“Don’t worry. I won’t be long.” He slapped open the door switch, and a blast of cold, strange smelling air suddenly filled the cabin. Nina took a deep breath, and alien scents filled her lungs—sweet and bitter at the same time. She felt suddenly light-headed, but she couldn’t tell if it was something in the air or her own fear. She did know one thing though—she couldn’t just sit here while Reddix went out and risked himself. There had to be something she could do to help.
Standing up, she glanced around the ship until her eyes fell on a long metal bar hanging on one wall. She wasn’t sure what it was used for normally, but it looked like it would make a good weapon. Not as good as Reddix’s deadly looking blaster but better than nothing. Grabbing the metal bar, she held it poised in front of her and followed him out of the ship.
“What in the Seven Hells are you doing out here?” Reddix growled over his shoulder as she stepped out. “Get back inside.”
“No.” Nina lifted her chin and gripped the metal bar tighter. “I can’t just sit there and do nothing.”
“You can, and you will. Now get—” His angry words were cut off when the purple furry triceratops suddenly reappeared. To Nina’s surprise, it had the big gray beach ball looking thing in its beaked mouth. When it noticed Nina and Reddix, it cocked its head to one side, regarding them with one of its yellow eyes that wasn’t covered in hair. Its three tentacles waved in what might have been interest, but at least it made no move to approach them.
“Gods that thing is massive,” Reddix growled. “At least stay behind me, Nina. Don’t make yourself a target.”
“So you can make yourself one? I don’t think so.” She choked up some more on her metal “bat.” “I’m staying right here.”
“Damn stubborn Earth female,” he snarled and then ended with what sounded like a low curse in his own language.
“That’s right I am,” Nina said firmly. “And I—” But just then the tall grass parted again and a new form came into place. “Oh…” she whispered breathlessly.
The new creature was also huge but not in the short, squat, chunky way of the furry triceratops. It was tall and slender—as tall as a giraffe at least, Nina thought. It walked on two legs and had two arms—well, two tentacles, she amended to herself—and it was also covered in short, light purple fur. Three bright green and purple eyes stared at them from its furry face, and its mouth yawned open, revealing sharp blue teeth.
Nina wasn’t one to faint when confronted with danger, but she was feeling decidedly light-headed at this point. Her heart was skittering in her chest and her blood was pumping so fast she felt like she would pass out from the adrenaline rush. She was so afraid she felt cold all over.
But then the thing took another step forward and she felt something else—a warm, gentle curiosity washed over her. A childlike wonder at finding something new, something perhaps fun to play with.
Toy? New toy?
The thought seemed to enter her brain more in pictures than in words, but Nina found that she understood them perfectly. And she further realized that she hadn’t thought them herself—the words and the sense of curiosity and wonder had come from the strange creature towering over them in the purple grass.
“Reddix,” she breathed, not taking her eyes from the thing. “It’s…feeling at me. I can hear it inside my head.”
“I know.” The strained, harsh sound of her voice forced Nina to tear her eyes from the alien being and look at the big Kindred. What she saw made her instantly worried.
There was a tight look on Reddix’s face—a look of sheer agony, as though he was keeping himself from bellowing in pain only by sheer force of will. The lights on the Hurkon collar were going crazy as though it was soaking up his pain even though it hadn’t caused it.
All of a sudden, Nina understood. His RTS, oh my God! If I can feel this thing’s emotions, how much worse can he feel them? And what is feeling them doing to him?
From the grim, pained look on his face the answer was clear. As she watched, a slow trickle of dark red blood came from his nose. This thing, whatever it was, was poison for him. It was hurting him—overloading him.
“Nina,” he said in a low, hoarse voice. “Get back in the ship. Now.”
“No—I won’t leave you. Not like this.” He looked terrible—worse every second. Without thinking she did what she always did to comfort someone—she reached out to touch him.
As her hand closed over his bare forearm, Nina felt a shiver go through him. Then he looked at her, his face filled with wonder.
“What did you do?” he asked hoarsely. “How did you do it? How did you turn it off?”
“Turn what off?” Nina asked, honestly confused.
“The feelings—the thing’s emotions. When you touch me—”
“When I—Oh!” Suddenly, she realized what she was doing—touching him skin-to-skin with nothing between them. Panicked, she pulled her hand away.
Reddix staggered and nearly went to his knees.
“No! Oh, Goddess, it’s back.”
Nina looked around wildly to see why his condition was worse and understood. The tall alien creature was coming toward them and when she concentrated on it, she could feel even more intense curiosity and interest coming from it.
Toy? Doll? it sent as waves of inquisitiveness washed over them.
“No, no.” Nina shook her head and waved her arms at it. “Go away! Go away.”
But the thing was already reaching for her with one huge, loopy tentacle. Nina gasped as it curled around her waist and pulled her high into the air. She was suddenly right up close to it—hovering in front of its face and staring into the three bright purple and green eyes, each one as big as a dinner plate.
Mothers One and Three promised a new toy. Dolls to play with. Must be careful though. Spaker will want to chew them. Here a thought vision of the furry purple triceratops flashed across Nina’s mind—clearly it was a pet. Can’t let him hurt the new dolls. He can chew the boji-ball instead, the alien thoughts continued.
The thoughts came much more clearly now that she was touching the thing. Though, confusingly, they seemed to come to her in a rush of bright, crudely drawn pictures. It was like flipping through a child’s book of paintings and trying to understand the story they were telling. They also had a distinctly feminine feel to them—though why she thought so, Nina couldn’t say. She just knew it was true.
A little girl, she thought with a shock of recognition. Why, she’s just a little girl—no matter how big she is.
“No, no,” she told the huge little girl. “I’m not a doll. I’m an adult—put me down.” She tried to send feelings of sternness toward the alien child, but just as she felt it beginning to respond with emotions of contrite regret, she heard Reddix shouting.
“Keep calm,” he yelled up at Nina. “The minute it moves you away from its face I’m shooting.”
To her horror, Nina saw that he was still holding the blaster aimed at
the alien’s head. Clearly he was just waiting for a clear shot.
“What? No—no!” She shook her head at him frantically. “No, Reddix—can’t you feel it? Can’t you understand? She’s just a little girl! A little girl out playing ball with her…her dog-thing.” She gestured down at Spaker, who was still looking at Reddix with a cocked head, the gray beach ball clutched firmly in his mouth.
“Doesn’t matter what it is, I’m not letting it hurt you.” The big Kindred looked, if anything, even worse than before. With a shock, Nina realized he was almost out of his mind with pain. The blood was pouring freely from his nose now, and she had the distinct impression he was keeping himself from passing out by sheer force of will. The blue, green and red lights on his collar were blinking so fast they were nothing but a blur. Again she had the distinct impression that the alien child’s emotions—loud, primitive, and extremely bright—were overloading him.
Have to do something, she thought wildly. Or he’s going to have an aneurism—blow a blood vessel. He can’t go on like this—it’s killing him!
Then everything seemed to happen at once. The huge little girl started to stoop to put her down, and Spaker dropped the ball and made a low, hoarse rak-rak-rak sound that Nina supposed must be his version of barking. She saw Reddix’s finger tighten on the blaster’s trigger, and a fresh gout of blood poured from his nose.
Without letting herself think, Nina reached past the loop of furry tentacle around her waist and dived into her pocket. Finding the Hurkon collar’s control unit, she felt for the last button and slipped the little plastic shield to one side. Just before Reddix could shoot, she pressed the kill switch.
He gave a low groan, and his silver eyes rolled up in his head. Then he crumpled to the ground—out cold.
Chapter Sixteen
Reddix opened his eyes to see Nina’s lovely face hovering anxiously over his own.
“Reddix?” she asked softly, her blue eyes filled with worry. “Are you all right? Do you feel okay?”
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