by Ruby Dixon
I still have no idea what he sees in me.
He crouches low in the snow and pats his thigh. “Take your snowshoe off and put that puny human foot here.”
“I’ll put it in your balls,” I mutter as I pull off my snowshoe. “Puny human, indeed.”
Aehako’s laugh of delight makes me feel better, and I climb onto his back and lace my arms around his neck. He hikes my thighs around his ribs and then grabs our bags, one in each hand, and tosses one to Haeden as he sprints to catch up.
Oh sure, make it seem effortless.
Haeden turns and gives Harlow a sour look. “Do you need carrying too, human?”
“I’m fine,” she says, shouldering her pack to adjust it. “I can keep going.”
I’m envious of the redhead’s seemingly-endless reserves of strength. I hate that I’m the one that has to be babied.
As if sensing my thoughts, Aehako squeezes my thigh and says, so low that only I can hear it, “Most likely she just doesn’t want to be around Haeden’s pleasant personality for any longer.”
I stifle my giggle.
A weird chirp sounds nearby, and I glance around, looking for birds.
Weather update? My translator intones.
I stiffen. That wasn’t a chirp. That was one of the Little Green Men.
More chirping echoes in my translator. The storms have stabilized. We should be able to find a sufficient landing area very soon.
Look for the cargo hold. If the ones in stasis are still there, we can recover them.
We’ll set down near it.
“What is it?” Aehako looks at me from over his shoulder.
It takes me a moment to realize that I’m clutching his neck so tightly I’m practically choking the man. I relax my grip, though my anxiety remains. “They’re coming. The storm’s gone and they want to land.”
“Then we have to hurry,” Aehako says. He looks to Haeden, and the man nods. Before Harlow can protest, she’s slung over his shoulder like a pack, and then both aliens are off, running through the snow at a speed faster than our human legs can move.
As more alien chatter feeds down, I can only hope we get there before they realize the translator is nowhere near the old cargo hold and come looking for me.
I want this thing out of my head now.
• • •
Even though the sa-khui — our blue alien friends – call it the Elders’ Cave, it’s actually a spaceship. Some three-hundred-and-change years ago they crash-landed here much like we did, and over time lost the use of their technology. The ship is still there, and the computer works. And if they have the advanced technology to have a working spaceship once upon a time, I’m hoping that they also have some sort of working medical equipment that can get this thing out of me.
At this point? I’m willing to chop off my own ear to get rid of it. The implant feels like an anchor, weighing me down with worry.
I’m relieved when the snowy expanse of the ship appears in the horizon. It’s enormous, like a gigantic, overly flat hill. Off to one side I see the ‘cave’ opening. It represents safety, even as I hear another sequence of alien chirps come through the translator.
“Hurry, please!” I squeeze Aehako’s neck as something bright zips past in the skies overhead. It’s not headed in this direction…yet. Doesn’t mean it won’t, though.
Aehako picks up the pace, and with me clinging to his back, he heads for the entrance to the ship in a full-on sprint. Haeden follows close behind.
As we approach, I see the rounded door entrance. It’s iced over and dark, but the interior is deep. The snow around the door itself is high, masking any steps. We race inside, and I see that off to the sides there are doors tightly hugging the rounded walls.
“Can we shut the doors?” I ask frantically. The chirping is filling my ear to the point that it’s making my anxiety go wild.
“Mja se fah-ree,” calls out a computerized voice. Door sequence initiated, the translator tells me.
“What’s it saying?” Harlow asks, sliding off of Haeden’s back.
Aehako releases me gently, pulling out one of his bone knives from his belt and eyeing the skies. “It says it is quenching doors. I do not know what this means.”
“Sequencing,” I correct. “That means it’s about to shut them.” I pull Aehako back a step or two, watching. I’m a little unnerved that the computer’s listening to us. We’ll have to be careful what we say.
There’s a heavy groan of metal, and then the snapping of ice. Harlow shields her face and Aehako protectively steps in front of me as ice flies everywhere, and then the doors to the hatch roll shut. The sunlight disappears, and we’re in utter darkness.
Somewhere in the dark of the interior, a red light blinks.
“Hello?” I call out. “Can you turn on the lights?”
A big hand clasps my shoulder, nearly making me crawl out of my skin. “Stay close, Kira. We do not know if it’s safe—“
“North American English, Planet Earth. Is this the default language you wish to use?”
“Um, yes please.”
“Accepted.”
I glance around. Maybe the computer is like an overgrown version of Siri from my iPhone. “Computer, turn on the interior lights, please.”
Something sizzles and I jump closer to Aehako. A flutter, and then a dim light comes on overhead.
“There is a malfunction in regards to the lighting in the main bay. Please contact a service technician.”
“Computer, please turn off malfunctioning lighting and turn on all other lighting,” I correct. I don’t want anything catching on fire. I rub my arms, mindful of the chill in here. Temperature control might be a bit too much to hope for. “Are we safe with the doors shut?”
“The doors can be opened upon request. Do you wish to initiate a lock-down sequence?”
Oh, I absolutely did. “Yes, please.”
“Would you prefer biometric pass-keys or verbal authorization?”
Aehako looks at me in confusion in the dim lighting. “I do not understand any of this.”
Harlow leans in. “We want verbal authorization. A password.”
She’s right. I nod. “Something that’ll be easy to remember. Any ideas?”
Her smile is thin. “Earth?”
I glance over at Haeden and Aehako. They look uneasy, both of them gripping weapons. “I’m not sure that if things get ugly, they’ll remember where we came from. Maybe we’ll just go with Georgie? Since she’s Vektal’s mate and all.”
Harlow shrugs. “Works for me.”
“Computer,” I call out. “Please lock down all doors to the exterior. No one can enter or exit without the password of ‘Georgie’.”
“Password Georgie accepted.”
I move to Aehako and squeeze his hand. “If you guys need to leave for whatever reason, just say her name.”
He nods, still looking around with something akin to awe. Underneath the ice that coats the interior of the ship, there are lights and panels and instruments. This must seem very foreign to him.
Heck, it’s foreign to me but I’m starting to get used to weird things at this point.
Harlow takes a few steps forward and shrugs off her thick, furry overcoat. “You think it’s okay for us to explore?”
I gesture at the air. “Ask the computer?”
“Right.” She gives me a sheepish look. “Computer, are there any other living things inside the ship other than us?”
“Performing bio scan. Please wait.” A low hum fills the room and a red beam flashes from one side of the cavelike hold to the next, scanning us. “Four life forms detected, two modified sakh and two modified human.”
Modified human? I touch my chest, where my khui is wrapped around my heart. “You mean us, correct?”
“That is correct.”
“Cool,” Harlow says. “I want to go have a look around, if that’s okay with you guys.”
I shrug. I certainly can’t stop her. She’s her own person, an
d this isn’t my ship. I have my own agenda here, and if Harlow doesn’t want to talk about hers, that doesn’t bother me. It must be personal.
Aehako’s big hands tug on my icy cloak, helping me take it off. “Is it safe to build a fire?” He asks.
“I don’t know if we should. There might not be a vent for the smoke, and we might set off smoke detectors in the interior. I don’t know how the ship will respond to that.”
“Smoke…detectors?” Haeden asks, a frown on his face.
“Long story,” I say. Another chirping sequence of flight commands comes through my translator, reminding me why I’m here. I clutch it and approach one of the frozen panels. “Computer, do you have a medical bay somewhere on this ship?”
“Medical bay is located on floor two, section D.”
I look over at Aehako. “That’s where I’m going.”
He steps forward. “Not alone.”
For some reason, I appreciate that. I smile at him, feeling shy. “All right.”
Haeden moves toward the snowy portal that we entered through, now shut. Muddy, slushy footprints mar the flooring. “I’ll stay here and guard the door.”
I want to tell him that we’re probably safe, but…I don’t know that we are. For all I know, the computer can think we’re safe and the aliens can show up with some new technology that will bust the doors open. So I nod and start forward. There’s a dark hall off to one side, and Harlow disappears down it, her hand tracing along the wall as she explores. She’s fearless. I envy that.
“Computer,” I say. “Can you show me the quickest way to get to the medical bay?”
The track lighting on the edge of the floor flickers off to one side. There’s a door there, and after a quick command to open it, it rolls back and exposes a different, dimly-lit hall than the one Harlow went down. Exposed wires hang from a missing tile in the ceiling, and it leads on into darkness.
This feels…creepy.
I touch the translator in my ear. It doesn’t matter if it’s creepy or not, I need to take action.
Aehako’s hand touches the small of my back, and that small gesture bolsters my courage.
I plunge into the ship.
PART FOUR
KIRA
The ship is a lot bigger than I originally anticipated. It looked big on the outside, but moving through the empty halls makes me realize just how vast the interior is. The long hallways wind and twist, and I pass door after door, some of them rusted shut, others with flashing red lights on their panels. It’s obvious that this ship has been in a crash, and it’s also obvious that it’s been cannibalized for parts at some point. There are panels removed and loose wiring here and there, and stacks of things set into corners. Old footprints cover the floor gratings from long-dried mud. There’s a faint musty smell in the air.
Aehako’s big body is a few steps behind mine, and each movement makes the floor shake and rattle, as if a hundred metal plates are upended with every step. I cringe at each movement, worried the floor won’t hold us both.
The track lighting in the floor stops in front of a yawning archway with a seam down the middle. It looks as if it might be double doors. It looks like part of the wall, but there’s writing of some kind on one side, and a control panel on the other. A broken light flickers overhead and then goes dark.
The moment it does, the chirping sounds in my earpiece again. Report back on what you see. Are the stasis pods intact?
“Please, open up,” I say, pressing my hand to the door. “I need this thing out of me!”
The metal is warm under my hand, which surprises me. It gives a small shiver and creaks open, and I step inside.
“Kira?” Aehako asks as I enter. “Be careful.”
The time for being careful is past. I just want this thing gone. I put a hand to the translator and walk into the room, gazing at my surroundings.
I’m not going to lie, it looks a bit like a laboratory. That’s scary. There’s tables, and a few benches, and a row of space-like cots jutting from a wall in the distance. Another wall is nothing but screens and monitors. As I step inside, they fire up one by one, scrolling unintelligible words across the screens.
I swallow hard. I don’t like the looks of this, but I’ve never been a fan of the doctor’s office. “Do you have something that can remove foreign objects, computer?”
“There is a self-assisted surgery compartment,” the computer intones. “I shall activate it.”
Self-assisted surgery? Not high on the list of things I want to have done. I’m even more alarmed when one of the walls opens up and spits out a long bed. Monitors flicker and dance with messages.
“Please enter the surgical compartment.”
I swallow hard and walk slowly toward the bed. I can do this. It’s just like getting a CAT scan back home, right? No big deal. I’m sure these people have – or rather, had – some sort of anesthesia or pain numbing sort of thing. Even if they don’t, it still has to come out.
I still have nightmares of when the aliens implanted the thing in my head. Of being held down and strapped down to a table, their voices chirping around me. Of the cool metal object placed against my ear…and then things burrowing into my brain, sending blinding pain through my body. I’d had a migraine for a week after it was implanted.
I can’t imagine what the extraction is going to be like.
Mouth dry, I sit gingerly on the edge of the bed.
“Please lay flat upon the indicated pallet.” The computer’s voice is changing, turning into a gentle, soothing counterpart. Bedside manner, perhaps. Whatever it is, I relax a little and start to lie down.
Aehako immediately appears at my side and grips my hand in his. “Kira.”
“What is it?”
He looks at the walls, full of monitors and flashing lights and computerized technology that I can’t comprehend. He looks…more than a little alarmed. This must be terrifying for him. His hand squeezes mine. “You do not have to have this thing removed. I will protect you from the aliens with my life.”
I give him a wan smile. “Aehako, they have laser guns and technology that both you and I can’t even comprehend. Spears and slings won’t do much against them. If they want to take me, there’s nothing I can do to stop them. I’m trying to get rid of this thing because I want to hide, not because I think you can’t protect me.”
His broad face studies me, and I can see the worry etched in his ridged brow and the set of his jaw. He doesn’t like this, not one bit. It’s startling to see in one as easygoing as Aehako.
“You can let go of my hand now,” I tease, trying to keep my voice light.
“Kira,” he says, and his voice is low and husky. Instead of moving away, he leans in. He clasps my hand tighter in his and presses it against his breast. “Be my mate.”
I stare up at his big body in shock. Was that…the alien version of a marriage proposal? “Your mate? But I thought we had to resonate—“
He shakes his head, big horns cutting through the air. My hand is pressed against his thudding heart, the tough, platy ridges covering it. “We will not be resonance mates. Just mates.”
“What’s the difference?”
He stares at me, so intent and serious. His other hand reaches out and brushes lightly along my jaw in a tender caress. “We choose to be mated to each other until we are separated.”
“Separated?”
“By death or by khui.”
I can’t decide if this is romantic or heartbreaking. “But if you resonate for someone—“
“I will not.”
“But how do you know?”
“I don’t. All I know is that you are my mate, and I will not listen to anyone or anything – even my khui – that says otherwise.”
Yeah, and I’m sure his newly resonated mate would just love that.
He’s looking at me, waiting for an answer, though. And I’m…torn. Not because I don’t want to be his mate. The thought sends happiness shooting through me. Aehako and I have
flirted for weeks now, and he’s shown himself to be caring and funny and kind and just all around wonderful. If I could pick a guy for my mate here on this frozen ice ball of a planet? It’d absolutely be him.
But I’m barren. I can’t have kids.
We’d just be mates until his khui decides that it’s time for him to add to the gene pool. Then he’ll mate with Harlow, or Claire, or one of the other unmated humans, and I’ll be left all alone. Again.
And I don’t know if I can take the abandonment. I’m not strong like Liz or Georgie. I’m weak and wimpy and the thought of being put aside for a new mate hurts fiercely. And I’ve seen Aehako around the others. He comes from a good-sized family. He loves his mom and dad, and his younger siblings. I’d be robbing him of everything but my company if I agreed to be his mate. I can’t have children. I’ll never resonate for him. If he pins his hopes on me someday resonating for him? He’s in for a rude awakening.
It’s something he deserves to know before I make up my mind.
I should tell him. I look up at his big, broad face.
The words that come out are, “Do you want children?”
Aehako blinks in surprise. I can tell the question wasn’t one he expected. But it’s worth asking. If he doesn’t want children, I’ll feel better as his ‘mate’. Maybe because at that point, I’ll know that I’ll still have a place in his heart even if his khui kicks in and decides he should be a daddy. But his words shatter that hope. “Of course I want children.” A slow smile curves his mouth. “What man doesn’t dream of a family of his own?”
I feel about as big as an ant. A tiny smushed ant ground into the carpet. I let go of his hand. “Okay, that’s what I wanted to know. Thank you.”
He laughs and cups my face in his big hands. “Kira, do not worry so. I have seen the khui resonate amongst those mated for many years. It is as if it can sense the love between two people and decides to unite them in every way.”
Yeah, right. More like the khui gives up and gives one last shake just to get a little something out of its host. I don’t think it’s as romantic as he thinks. And it wouldn’t happen anyhow. I give him a thin smile. “We’ll talk about it when I get out, okay?”