Hunted on Predator Planet

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Hunted on Predator Planet Page 18

by Vicky L Holt


  “VELMA, calm down,” I said. “Geez.”

  “Rebooting.”

  I rolled my eyes and took off my helmet again. Red raised his brows at me. I turned the helmet’s cells toward him and pointed. “Uh, zah-go-sha?” I said the word for light. I hoped he would understand I was losing power.

  “Ah,” he said and took my helmet from me. He examined the panels, running a claw down the smooth black surface. He held up a finger and gently placed my helmet beside his own. He opened a panel below his pectoral armor and fished out a slender red box. He placed my helmet solar cell down on top of the box. Then he grinned at me.

  “Is that a charger?” I said. He just smiled.

  I stood and walked to his helmet. “May I?”

  “Ik, ik,” he said and nudged it toward me. I bent to lift it and grunted. It weighed at least thirty pounds! I turned it to see the dark-gray circles at the back. They must function the same. I slid my fingers across them. I remembered them from when he was buried beneath the dead reptiles.

  “Are these solar cells?” Er, star cells, I corrected myself. Sol belonged to Earth.

  “Ah,” he said. Then he spilled out a great jumble of words I couldn’t even begin to make sense of. I handed him his helmet, and he took it with a couple fingers and placed it next to mine.

  I saw more lights blink on each of our helmets. “Look!” He followed my finger to the flashing lights. Our helmet lights blinked sporadically for a few seconds, then began syncing up. Within a minute they were blinking together.

  Red looked at me askance, then picked up his monstrous helmet and put it on. I did the same.

  “I have decrypted Theraxl language,” VELMA said. “Would you like me to translate?”

  I jumped up and down. “Yes!” I looked to Red, and his fangs gleamed in a pleased smile. She must have introduced herself to him.

  We stood facing each other. Where to begin?

  He spoke first.

  “Why are you here? How did you find this planet?”

  Adrenaline branched throughout my chest. I could answer all of his questions! Feeling breathless, I spoke in a rush.

  “My ship was damaged, and the emergency pod shot me out into space. It was programmed to find somewhere compatible with my physiology. I woke up when it was landing.”

  “Your technology found this planet?” He looked stern.

  I nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t know anything. I was,” I took a breath, remembering. “I was asleep for a long time.”

  “Are there others?” His brows seemed to draw even closer together, and his mouth turned down. I took a small step back.

  “I don’t know. VELMA hasn’t said,” I answered. “VELMA is the technology.”

  “Ah. But your ship was large? There were many of your kind?”

  I bit my lip. “Well, yes. But—”

  He began pacing. “I need to reconnect with my brethren. If more of you land here, the Ikma Scabmal Kama may descend with her army and destroy us all. She may destroy Ikthe in her wrath.” His stride allowed him only a few steps before he pivoted and returned. “I cannot reach them from the caves. We will leave in a zatik.”

  My adrenalin rush faded as quickly as it came. “You don’t understand,” I said. He stopped pacing and looked at me. “I jettisoned through space for years. The odds of others landing here are very small. My technology wasn’t even familiar with your race. Your people haven’t been catalogued by the Interplanetary Unification of Races, and your planet isn’t charted.” The words I spoke choked me. I would never reunite with the human race.

  He stood with his fists at his hips. He stared at me.

  “Your technology assures me what you say is true,” he said, then cocked his head. “She stated a statistical probability of a handful of survivors reaching this planet but has not received any pings.”

  “Right,” I said. I swallowed a painful lump. I watched his body, since his expressions were obscured by the helmet. His shoulders dropped a fraction, and he released his hands from fists.

  “I am sorry. There is much to explain,” he said. He opened his palm to the ground. “Sit. We will converse.”

  My heart rate picked up a little at his command. I sat in a crisscross fashion and rested my elbows on my knees. He continued to pace.

  “My queen sent us on a death march. She does not know of your existence, yet, and I would keep it that way.”

  “Okay,” I said. I wasn’t sure what to say, or if I should just listen.

  “The Ikma Scabmal Kama,” he paused. “My queen. She knew we would all likely perish on this errand to retrieve woaiquovelt and Waters of Shegoshel. The planet is not kind.”

  I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I noticed.”

  He finished pacing and sat across from me. “You are brave for one so small.”

  I huffed. “Not so brave. I have cried a lot since landing here. Your planet tries to kill me several times a day.”

  He nodded. “Bravery and tears are sister companions. It is the way of the Goddesses. What you say about our planet is true. We call it Certain Death. It is the Sister Planet to my home world.”

  “The green planet I see in the sky?”

  “Yes,” he said. “It is my home.” His armor creaked as he settled into a comfortable pose. “I apologize for hunting you like prey.”

  “Heh.” I laughed. “I can’t blame you.” I sat in silence and reached my hand up as if to play with my braids. “Why did you…?” I couldn’t finish. A rush of emotion flooded my throat and eyes. Somehow, I had landed in the middle of a political intrigue on a predator planet. Just because I had an alien friend did not mean my troubles were over. Far from it.

  He reached for me and took my hand. We wore our helmets for communication, but neither of us had replaced our gloves. His hand felt cool and strong.

  “You battled death. It is a victory ritual for the royal Sisters. I hope I did not offend.”

  I shook my head and blinked away some moisture. “No, I wasn’t offended. I haven’t been,” I swallowed again. “I haven’t been touched with gentleness in a long time.”

  “Ah,” was his only response.

  I rotated my shoulders and popped my neck. “Ahem. Well, wow!” I pulled my hand out of his grip. “What do we do? What is the plan?”

  He didn’t answer right away, but let the glowing eyes of his helmet stare into my soul.

  I tried not to fidget, but I couldn’t help squirming a little under his scrutiny.

  “We will rest, rejoin the others, and we will complete the quest. You are coming with me.”

  My mouth dried up. I tried to work up some spit to swallow. “A quest?”

  “Woaiquovelt is the prized metal of this planet. You have seen its power and beauty.”

  “Yes.”

  He touched the hilt of his blade. “Missions to collect it are rare. Few Theraxl return from them.”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I couldn’t imagine anything so perilous that these monstrous beings couldn’t survive. And I was coming with them on this journey? He must have seen my eyes grow wide, or maybe the fluttering pulse in my neck.

  He grasped my hand once more; I wondered what PSI his grip had, but he held my hand as if it were made of glass. “I will protect you, Yasheza Mahavelt.”

  I clenched my jaw and formed fists while my gaze drifted to his dagger.

  Red began to chuckle. “Or perhaps you will protect me, instead.” He released my fist.

  “Suit integrity breached. Please return to the EEP for possible medical treatment.”

  VELMA’s announcement startled me. “Oh. Hang on,” I said and muted the mic. “VELMA, I’m fine. Can’t you cancel the warning or something?”

  “The suit utilizes a separate OS. I will reroute it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “However, you will need to repair the breach otherwise I cannot guarantee your safety.”

  My mind cast over Red’s promise of danger, and I fingered the torn sleeve on my su
it. I toggled my mic. “How far are we from my pod?”

  Red’s glance skimmed my sleeve. “Many zatik’s walk from here.”

  I frowned. “VELMA, what is a zatik?”

  “My calculations define a zatik as 2.7 Standard Earth hours,” VELMA answered. She displayed a modified clock on my IntraVisor. It appeared Theraxl used a metric system to measure time, units of tens comprising the clock.

  I cocked a brow. “I have material at my pod that would allow me to repair the tear in my sleeve,” I told Red. “Can we go back?”

  His posture stiffened. He looked toward one of the tunnels, presumably the one leading back. “I wish to rejoin my brethren. I will let no harm come to you.”

  I pursed my lips. “Of course you wouldn’t. On purpose. But my suit is the only thing between me and death.” I frowned and pinched the tough fabric together. “What about this? How about if I go back, and then I’ll catch up to you and your brothers?” I looked up at him to see him removing his helmet.

  He frowned at me, his black and red eyes searching my face. “No.”

  Taken aback, I scrambled to my feet so I could speak to him face to face as he sat. I pointed to his helmet. “Put that back on.” My heartbeat raced. He replaced his helmet. “I need to repair my suit. You said yourself we would sleep and leave in the morning.” I folded my arms. “I’ll just go tonight while you sleep.”

  His helmet tilted to the side. “No. You yourself are aware of the many dangers on this planet. It is night above ground. You would not survive the terrors of the night alone.”

  “I may not survive the terrors of the day with a torn suit.” I stood firm, my hand on my hip and my other one clenching repeatedly. I felt tight tendons in my neck and my eyes stung. I blinked a couple times and forced calm breaths through my nose.

  Red leaned back with his huge hands poised on his knees.

  Part of me wanted to rail at him, but as long as I’d “known” him, he had been unruffled. I hoped he would be reasonable.

  “I long to return to my brethren. But I can see the urgency of your request as well.” His helmet dipped forward. It rose again, its visor panel directed at my face. “Let us rest now. Perhaps the Holy Goddesses of Shegoshel will guide us to our next action.”

  I took a deep breath and exhaled with pursed lips. Okay. We could sleep on it. I nodded. “Alright,” I said. I studied his calm pose.

  Red cleared his throat. “Let us prepare pallets upon which to sleep.”

  I looked around inside the cave, trying to find a good spot. I didn’t have blankets or a pillow. My suit would normally regulate the temperature, but compensating for the breach would use too much energy. I had disabled that feature.

  A flat spot about a yard from the pool seemed like a good place. I walked to it, brushed some loose stone aside and sat down, settling my pack to use it as a headrest.

  I looked over to see Red had unrolled a thick blanket. It seemed his armor and pack had many hidden pockets and stashes. I never guessed he carried such a luxurious comfort. I watched him move. For someone so large, he was graceful. He lay the huge sword by his side, but his other weapons remained strapped to his armor. He lay his pack at one end of his pallet as well, then sat.

  “You have no pallet?”

  For some dumb reason, I felt blood rush to my face. “No. My suit is supposed to make me comfortable.”

  “Ah.” He continued to face me. “And you are comfortable?”

  He sat so still with his hands once more placed upon his knees like a yogi.

  I averted my eyes from his helmet for a moment. “Yes, yes I’m fine. Thank you.” I noticed my nose running and sniffed.

  “Very well,” he said. Then he removed his helmet and placed it on his charger again. He pointed at me with a dark claw. Then tapped the charging station and pointed once more. “Oh, right. Okay.” I stood up and took off my helmet, bringing it to him.

  He took it, hefting its slight weight, and said some words with a half-smile. He placed it cell-side down and resumed his position.

  I was close enough to smell pepper. My face felt hot and flushed. I skimmed his face once more, appreciating his striking features. I looked a little too long at his full lips and pulled my gaze away. Unfortunately, it fell on his broad shoulders and barrel chest. Everywhere I looked, his indomitable presence filled my vision. I swallowed and reached toward his hand. “Yaza?”

  He startled at my touch, and I watched him raise his other hand toward his chest but then stop. “Ik.”

  I took a breath. I touched his armor at his shoulder. “Maza?” It was the word for body.

  “Ik.”

  With heart racing, I reached to his ear. “Quaza.” My pulse fluttered in my neck. My fingers brushed past his hair. It was silky, but I didn’t let my fingers drift through it.

  “Ik.”

  My chest rose. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of my neck. My trembling hand hovered near his face, but I drew it back to my own nose. “Saza.”

  “Ik.” He stared at me, motionless.

  I had run out of words.

  He took up the torch instead and reached a huge hand toward my face. “Ikdu?” he whispered. He said it as his hand paused before my mouth. Was he asking permission?

  “Uh, ik?” I croaked.

  His clawed finger touched my lower lip. “Waza.” He traced it, then circled up to my top lip. “Waza. Wazal.”

  “Ik,” I said in a whisper.

  Feeling brave, I reached for his face again, and touched his bottom lip. “Waza.” I drew on his top lip with invisible paint, pausing at a scabbed over cut. “Waza. Wazal.”

  This time, he whispered. “Ik.” His face contorted, and he once again reached to brush the armor at his chest.

  What happened? One second he was fine, and the next he looked to be in pain. I blinked fast and stepped away, avoiding his face. My breaths came in short gasps. I hadn’t touched another male since Chris. I clapped a hand to my own chest and concentrated on my breathing. I had no business playing kid games. I inhaled then met his eyes. “I’m sorry. We better get some rest.”

  He didn’t know what I was saying, but he pressed his thumb between his brows and rubbed. He shook himself, then peered past me at my space. He looked at my face and cocked his head. With a grunt, he patted the pallet beside him. He scooted back to make room then lay down to face the wall.

  I stood, uncertain. It was clear he welcomed me to share the soft blanket. But … I swallowed and looked at his massive solid form. He still wore his armor, and I still had my flight suit. I rolled my eyes at myself. I sat down, and his spicy aroma enveloped me.

  He didn’t move or make a sound, so I lay down and used the crook of my arm as a pillow. The bead light grew dim, as did the pool of glowing creatures. I listened to the sound of trickling water. “Um, Naraxthel?”

  A grunt.

  “Agothe-fax?”

  “I, i. Esra la ikshemaza.”

  I didn’t know what he said, but he seemed unconcerned. I took comfort in his slow breathing and the warmth at my back. My lids drifted closed and I considered I was indeed very comfortable, if excessively hot for being in a cave.

  40

  I dreamed of the Holy Goddesses of Shegoshel. Their beauty took my breath away, but they pinned me with stern expressions. I did not know what I did to earn their ire. When I tried to explain, they pushed me through panels of sheer fabric. I awoke in the pitch-black cave, blinking a few times. I sniffed for traces of agothe-faxl, but all was clear. Then the subtle fragrance of lilies wafted over me, and I realized Esra lay at my back. I felt heat radiating from her. A sour odor pinched my nose. “Light,” I said, and my bead light glowed.

  Frowning, I rolled toward her, careful not to bump her. Her entire body trembled. “Esra,” I said her name and willed her eyes to blink open. “Soft traveler, wake to me.”

  My breaths quickened, and my heart stuttered in its chamber. She was barely breathing; the stench of sour water grew strong in my nos
trils. I fumbled for a pouch with my free hand. Curse my family lineage for all time. I was going to use the vial. I flipped the lid open with my thumb claw and lowered her head. I needed my other hand. My claw clicked against her teeth as I held open her lips with my forefinger. I poured the sacred drops into her mouth. First the Elder Sister drop from the top, then the younger sister from the spout at the side of the vial. I stopped the holes and stuffed the vial in its pouch. I supported her head with my hands and watched for any sign of revival. The memory of pressing my lips against hers to give life surfaced. I could do so again.

  “Esra,” I whispered. I lifted my head and listened for the rumblings of any other night-walkers, then returned my attention to the little hunter. “Esra.” My heart beat its way against the opening in the heart-home. “Holy Goddesses, what would you have me do?”

  I lay her back down and retrieved her helmet, replacing it on her suit. Perhaps its self-sustaining system would freshen her air. I cuffed my hand around her slender wrist where the tear in the fabric revealed her pale skin. I watched her face through the helmet, my breaths coming in rapid gusts and my heart wrestling within its armored cage. The battle within my chest contorted my face as my blood pulsed and throbbed in my ears and my neck. My tongue felt thick in my mouth.

  My helmet chirped. Startled, I returned it to my head, but I remained on my knees near Esra.

  The female voice spoke in my ear. “Naraxthel,” it said.

  “Yes, translator?” I whispered.

  “I am Esra’s assistant. I am called VELMA. I am the Vector Egress Liaison Machine AI K90”

  “Vel-ma?” I was familiar with the sounds as Esra had told me the name, but they made up a word that did not exist.

  “Esra is experiencing a medical emergency and requires immediate attention,” the voice said. “Please move Esra to the Emergency Egress Pod.”

  “Do you mean her ship?”

  “Yes.”

  I gathered our possessions in a hasty bundle and secured them upon my back.

  Careful of her fragile body, I lifted her, maintaining a grip around her wrist, hoping to prevent most of her good air from escaping.

 

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