Alien, Awakening

by Sandra Harris

  His hand fell away and she roundly reproved her body for lamenting its loss. Pursing her lips in self-annoyance she strode into the tunnel, but she couldn’t deny her gratefulness for the reassurance T’Hargen’s big, powerful, close frame provided.

  Long quiet minutes passed, their footsteps whispering like ghostly secrets. Ahead, TL slowed to a halt then uttered a subdued oople.

  Uh-oh?

  “We appear to have encountered an obstacle,” T’Hargen murmured, gazing at his scanner with a malicious grin curving his lips. “One your little friend would not be able to help you traverse.”

  Kat came to a halt and prepared herself for TL’s irate response and the next round of hostilities between the two males. Only the soft whir of TL’s drive met her expectant ears. She glanced at him. He returned her stare, gently swaying from side to side in what she’d begun to interpret as insouciance.

  Mild suspicion stirred through her then TL directed his lights down. A sinkhole gaped before them, spanning the entire width of the tunnel.

  Damn.

  “I take it you’ve a solution?” she asked T’Hargen.

  He reached into a pocket and withdrew a coil of mono-rope. “I do.”

  Again the expected response from TL at T’Hargen’s superior tone failed to manifest. Her suspicion morphed into a very bad feeling. She sent him a warning glower and mouthed, “Don’t you do anything.” He flashed his cockpit ‘eyes’ at her then ascended to a position near the roof of the tunnel, centring over the cenote.

  T’Hargen turned to her, laser extended in the palm of one hand. “I rely on you, Kathryn.”

  “You’re asking me to shoot TL?”

  “If he attempts any hostile action while he considers me vulnerable, yes.”

  She turned her glance to her friend, now distilling a clear light that would aid T’Hargen’s traversal of the slim ledge of rocks rimming the hole. She stared at T’Hargen. Suspicion gnawed at her that guile drove this action, not fear for his life. Did he think to lull TL into supposing he would be vulnerable? Tempting her friend to make a move to prove himself traitorous?

  Or was this just another testosterone battle? A ‘she’s on my side not yours’ contest.

  She stifled an amused yet irritated shake of her head and willingly accepted the weapon knowing full well the need to use it would not arise. TL whistled an offhand assurance then manoeuvred towards the far side of the sinkhole so the radiance he provided would not cast T’Hargen’s shadow.

  “There,” she said, “he’s being helpful.”

  T’Hargen muttered a noncommittal, “Hmm,” and strode forwards. She followed him to the edge of the hole.

  “Stay back from the edge, Kathryn.”

  “What are you planning?”

  He turned and sent her an ‘I’m waiting’ look. She took a step back. His eye-ridges rose. She took another two steps.

  “The roughness of the rock wall skirting the sinkhole lends itself to a stable detour. I will secure the rope around to the far side then return for you.”

  Okkaaay.

  A small, phut explosion echoed as T’Hargen blasted an anchor into the rock. “Of course”—he secured the mono-rope to a ring on the anchor—“if your friend were as”—his long arm reached out, his fingers gripped rock, his foot found purchase—“large as I am”—he swung forwards, another phut rang through the tunnel—“he wouldn’t have any trouble”—another reach, more ground covered—“satisfying your needs.”

  Heat and disconcerting interest bloomed in her cheeks and she gasped at his provoking insinuation.

  Are you trying to get shot?

  “I do believe I’m beginning to understand the essence of this ‘measuring’ business,” he murmured. The echo bounced from the sinkhole as though in agreement.

  Against the light grey of the rock, T’Hargen’s profile glinted with dark satisfaction. His lips curved in wicked glee as he extended his reach. TL’s lights flickered. Darkness snatched Kat’s vision, her eyes hastened to adjust. Radiance suddenly stabbed into her widening irises then just as abruptly disappeared. Rock scraped ominously against rock. T’Hargen’s curse muttered through the chamber. The plunk of stone dropping into water tolled like a tombstone cracking in half.

  An impudent piping accompanied the return of steady light. Kat narrowed her eyes with frantic concern on T’Hargen still clinging to the rock wall. Relief burned through her in an almighty rush then she glared at TL.

  “He apologises. Says the blast from your laser interrupted his energy pathways. He’ll try not to let it happen again.”

  She sent TL a ‘see that it doesn’t’ glare as T’Hargen’s mutter of, “I’m going to put that thing’s lights out if it’s the last thing I do,” hung in the air.

  TL, well, she could say he’d replicated a bottom raspberry, but the sound he produced far more resembled a fart.

  Little bugger.

  Kat fixed her gaze on T’Hargen as though the weight of her focus would ensure his safe arrival on the far side of the sinkhole. Her pulse seemed to hesitate with each reach of his arm and leg. Long, brightly lit moments later and two more phuts, he stepped onto solid ground and tethered the rope to a final anchor. Kat breathed a deep sigh of relief.

  “I’ll return for you, Kathryn—”

  TL’s light dimmed and he dropped like a lead balloon. Before her fear for him could establish a foothold, he arrested the fall, hovered, pointed his nose skyward then zipped this way and that, apparently inspecting the rock roof above the sinkhole.

  A problem?

  His lasers flashed then sliced at the granite in multiple places. Cracks formed as the stressed rock groaned. The deep, hollow, popping sound of splitting stone roared through the cavern.

  “Get back, Kathryn!”

  How she heard T’Hargen’s bellow over the booming noise she’d never know. She stumbled back, horror and confusion wrapping her mind in a stunned blanket, unable to process the unthinkable event unfolding before her. The light vanished. The thundering grumble of falling rock intensified.

  Chapter 6

  “Kathryn!”

  T’Hargen’s roar punched through the thunder of falling rock. A cloud of grit pricked Kat’s eyes. She held her breath, but the minute debris infiltrated her lungs. A spasm convulsed her chest and she ejected the foreign material in a hacking cough. Tears flooded her eyes, washing away some of the dirt. She blinked rapidly, trying to hasten the process.

  “Kathryn!”

  The grinding rumbles muted to active echoes galloping down the tunnel. A beam of light speared towards her from the opposite side of the chasm. She covered her mouth with her hand then clenched her chest and throat muscles to subdue the desperate heaving wracking her lungs.

  “Kathryn, answer me!”

  Her spirit responded to the concern abrading T’Hargen’s tone and she tried to answer, but could force nothing past the horrible constriction of her labouring throat.

  “I’m coming for you, Kathryn. Hold on!”

  She couldn’t allow him to do that. He mustn’t. God only knew how unstable the entire structure of the tunnel had become. What had driven TL to do such a thing?

  She managed to drag in a breath partially free of pulverised rock.

  “I’m okay, T’Hargen,” she croaked, “stay there.”

  She flapped a hand before her face in a vain attempt to clear the air and coughed up another lung.

  “Remain where you are, I will be with your shortly,” he ordered.

  Bright light blazed into the darkness from above the sinkhole. An almost-solid drift of dust motes smeared the air. She squinted into the light. TL’s soft warble offered her comfort.

  “You did what?”

  He repeated the communication.

  A bri
dge?

  “T’Hargen? Wait a minute.”

  The whir of TL’s engines increased to a loud hum. Warm air brushed her face then moved on. Currents forced clear passages through the cloud of grit and soon it became less thick than the skin on a rice pudding. A huge shadow, backlit by the cascading light, swirled through the curtain.

  Warmth encased her shoulder and T’Hargen’s comforting, double-shot mocha-latte scent mixed with the dirt filming her nostrils. She stared at him, still trying to blink her eyes clear.

  “Surely you didn’t think I’d let you use it without first testing it myself?”

  She shook her head in an attempt to knock a thought or two loose that would bring her up to speed with the bewildering events.

  “There’s a bridge? It’s solid?”

  “Indeed there is, and yes it is.” He held a hand out to her. “Come, I’ll guide you across.”

  Still swimming in puzzlement she slipped her hand into T’Hargen’s. His vigorous grip buoyed her floundering spirits and solidified her focus on him, trusting him to see her safe. He led her forwards over the bits of rubble littering the floor then across the bridge with an assurance that implied he’d carved it himself specifically for her. She kept her gaze on the broad expanse of his back, refusing the terrible, fascinating allure of the sheer drop not far from her feet.

  When they reached the far side, TL zoomed to hover before her, anxiety prevalent in his oopling explanation that he would never jeopardise her well-being, that he would not have continued excavation if his calculations had not been accurate and one hundred per cent certain. She halted. His unspoken fear that she might consider him disloyal, or worse, a menace, rang in his tone, and she hastened to soothe him.

  “The bridge was brilliant, TL, thank you.”

  Though some notice of your intentions wouldn’t have gone astray.

  He lowered his head, moved closer, and brushed the cool, smooth tip of his nose across her jaw. Then he reversed, spun to the right, and buzzed so close by T’Hargen’s head she was surprised his cranial ridges didn’t inflame with anger.

  T’Hargen tugged on her hand. “Come, Kathryn, let us proceed.”

  She followed in his wake, all too aware of her contentment to allow him to continue possessing her hand. God, she needed to get to the bottom of his interest in her. Maybe that would help her curb this growing need to . . . To what? Have the right to lean on him when she needed? Have his approval? Have something on a body and soul level?

  Her stomach grumbled and she focused her attention on the steep decline of the tunnel’s smooth floor illuminated by TL’s lights. The last thing she needed was to turn an ankle because her mind was preoccupied ruminating over her love life. Her foot skidded on gravel. T’Hargen’s hand clenched around hers. She tensed her muscles and maintained balance.

  And we’re going to have to climb back up this.

  Her legs did not care for the idea at all.

  ~ ~ ~

  “We’ll camp here for the remainder of the night.”

  Kat sent a thankful prayer skyward at T’Hargen’s proclamation, and with a groan for tired and aching muscles, she lowered herself to the ground. She closed her eyes, leaned back against the rock wall near the mouth of the tunnel TL had led them down, and pulled in a deep, grateful-to-be-sitting breath.

  The muted rush of falling water whispered temptingly from outside.

  And just as soon as I’m sure my lower limbs will support me, I’m going to wash the sweat and dirt from my face and hands, at the very least.

  She sensed T’Hargen crouch before her, but kept her eyes closed.

  “Are you well, Kathryn?”

  “Yep, just need a minute to rest.”

  “Very well. I shall return promptly.”

  Okay.

  Wait! Return?

  She snapped her eyelids up, but he was already gone. TL lowered stubby landing gear and settled on the ground by her stretched-out legs. His light, now the strength of only one or two candles, cast a tranquil radiance against the black cloak of night.

  “Are you alright?”

  He warbled a soft reply of satisfactory operation, conservation of energy, and power resupply by photovoltaic means when the sun soon shone.

  Soon? That sounds way too . . . Her tired mind sought for a synonym, failed . . . soon. She wanted to rest here for hours, do and think nothing, but a question that had been nagging her to be addressed pressed for attention and she leaned closer to TL.

  “Splicing pheromones?” she whispered.

  Mimicking her lowered voice, he crooned a soft answer.

  T’Hargen wants to what? Splice his nuclei with mine? She gasped. Sex? He wants sex? With me?

  Of course with me, dunderhead, there’s no one else about.

  Her heart kicked her ribs and wanton attraction, complete with feather boa, danced around her lower belly. Oh Lord, she was in trouble now. When she’d thought his actions a means to manipulate she’d have been able to keep him at bay, possibly, but a genuine attraction?

  She rested her head back on the rock and recalled his earlier attentions. How he seemed to like touching her.

  He honest-to-goodness wanted to, er, splice his nuclei with hers. A great rush of sparkling, sensuous delight flushed under her skin like a sun-warmed breaker crashing on the beach, and clashed head on with steadfast wariness.

  Is it just sex he’s after? And why am I even contemplating that?

  Cool night air breezed in the cave opening and her thermals compensated with a cosy flush of electric-blanket warmth. Staccato chirruping and the occasional deep, tomb-like croaking of nocturnal animals barely seemed to penetrate the hush of the night. Undergrowth rustled. A huge deformed shadow, deeper than night’s starlit mantle, moved before the entrance.

  “T’Hargen, what are you wearing?”

  “Dark vision visor.”

  “And you just happened to have them on you?”

  “Yes, Kathryn, I did.”

  His steady tone challenged her to doubt his sincerity.

  First rule of anomaly investigators? Never leave home without your dark vision visor?

  Clothing rasped, the shifting blackness before her knelt and T’Hargen’s lower body reflected TL’s mellow light, shadows danced across the misshapen contours of his face.

  “The light doesn’t blind them?”

  “No, they compensate. Hold out your cupped hands, Kathryn.”

  She bit her tongue on please and complied. Rough textured material skimmed her palms then settled with soft weight.

  A collapsible water bowl? I’ve got to get myself a set of those trousers he’s wearing. They store everything. Or maybe I can just get him out of his.

  Her libido giggled in absolute agreement.

  Shut up.

  “T’Hargen, I can’t use—”

  “You don’t have to. Hold still.” He chuckled. “Close your mouth, Kathryn.”

  She sealed her lips together and hoped his darn super-toy goggles could distinguish her glare. His hand dipped into the water of the bowl. A whisper of air brushed her face then damp cloth gently skimmed her cheek.

  “T’Hargen . . .”

  “Hush.”

  Dear Lord, how was she supposed to resist the tender command in the dark timbre of his voice? He swished the cloth in water again then dabbed her face. The intent focus in his task held her motionless. She ran her gaze along the solemn line of his full lips. His beard plates glowed like polished tiger stone and the sensitive pads of her fingers itched to discover their texture, to see if the tale of their dynamic sensuality was really true.

  She tore her gaze from the temptation of his lips and searched his face. The visors obscured any hope of reading his eyes.

  Is he . . . is
he hiding behind those?

  For what reason?

  Did he find his body’s response to hers an irritation? Was it simply the urge of sexual attraction that released his splicing pheromones, or something deeper? Something he felt uneasy about revealing. Warmth pulsed through her chest as an excited ember of hope danced with abandoned glee.

  Am I grasping at straws?

  An arrow of truth cut through the intellectual defences guarding her heart.

  I want to love him. And I want him to love me.

  Oh. Shit.

  Her body seemed to try and wrench itself apart as half of her quailed at the mere thought of pursuing that ideal and the other delighted at the prospect.

  But perhaps . . . if she really had had that visceral connection to him, would she be a fool to ignore it? Wouldn’t it be wise to at least make an assay to discover if they’d have a chance of building a future?

  Or was that a road hell-bound for destruction?

  “T’Hargen, earlier you accused TL of lying to me. In what way is that different to how you treat me?”

  His hand stilled over her forehead.

  “I do not understand the inference behind your question, Kathryn.”

  She stared into his visor. “Please take those off while I speak to you.”

  A wary stillness claimed his body. The sound of leathery wings flapped by outside. Slowly, his hand lifted and drew the device from his head.

  “Thank you. As to the inference behind my question: You have yet to divulge why you sought me. Every time I ask, you evade, you misdirect, you withhold the answer. While technically that’s not lying, it strikes me as an act of disrespect for I get the feeling that what you want from me is of some significance. So I’ll ask you again. What is it you want from me?”

  For a while his gaze tracked across her face as though she held the answer, not him.