Whatever happens with the Velor, it will certainly be fun to have Vohx around for a while.
I find myself picturing him again, the otherworldly blue of his skin, the white-tipped spines trailing down his back. I wonder what he looks like beneath his armor and clothing, how similar to a human he appears.
I just promised myself to keep my thoughts far from such things, but I find that I can’t help it. In fact, it’s practically an involuntary response. Simple curiosity. My imagination manages to flesh out firm, toned thighs, and then my mind’s eye travels upward … slowly … to wonder what in the world he might be packing between those legs…
… When a loud crash sounds from the door of my room, followed by rushing feet and a growl that rises up into a roar. A shocked yell catches in my throat, but I do not let it out. My first impulse, should there be an intruder, is to avoid calling attention to myself. Heart pounding, climbing up my throat, I stick my head out of the shower and peer through the open door into the bedroom. It is hard to see through the mist, and for a moment, I can almost believe that I’ve imagined the sounds.
Then I see Vohx, standing in the doorway of the bathroom and staring back at me. Behind him, the supposedly impenetrable door to my cabin has been broken down. A simple kick, even from a Velorian, likely wouldn’t have done it. I can see that the hinges have been frozen, a layer of ice crusted over the entire exterior of the door. He must have frozen them and kicked them to make them shatter after realizing it couldn’t be opened from that side without a keycard, of which myself and Paulson have the only copies. My brain takes all this in within the space of seconds. My mouth moves slower, and I simply blink at him in shock for a moment before realizing that the cold he carried with him has made the protective layer of fog on the transparent shower door all but disappear. He can see all of me.
I feel heat rush to my face, making my skin flush even redder than what the warmth of the shower has accomplished on its own. I fumble for the first towel I can reach and attempt to hold like a shield in front of the more vulnerable parts of my body. It doesn’t take me long to realize that it’s only a hand towel, and is doing little good.
“What the hell?!” I exclaim, voice rising into something much closer to an indignant squeak than the strong yell I would like it to be. I give up on trying to shield myself with the towel when I realize how ridiculous I look, and settle for pretending that I don’t care about being been seen nude by an alien who is almost, but not quite, a complete stranger. Really, nudity isn’t that a big a deal. I’m a nurse—a body should be just a body—but somehow it’s different when it’s my own. And when I’m being stared at.
Vohx hasn’t answered.
“What are you doing in here?” I demand, stepping out of the shower, ignoring how much less comfortable I feel without the thin layer of see-through glass between us.
“I am here to guard you,” he explains, gesturing adamantly, as if I am the crazy one. “That is the entire purpose of me accompanying you on this mission. I could not open the door. You didn’t answer when I called you, so I thought you might be in some sort of peril.”
At the explanation, I feel a bit less angry. Perhaps if one of the scientists on the ship pulled something similar, I would class it as bullshit right away. As it was, Vohx seems genuinely concerned and perplexed as to why I didn’t answer his call.
I sigh as I step into the center of the bathroom, arms crossed in front of my breasts as I reach around him for the full size towel I left draped over the open door instead of on the rack closer to the shower.
After all, I’d been thinking, it’s not like I was sharing the cabin with anyone who might see. This is actually the first room I’ve had with its own attached bathroom in my life, and I have been taking no small amount of pleasure in not having to worry about offending anyone with my attire, or lack thereof. I wrap the fluffy towel around my body and tuck the other side into place so that it can hang without my assistance. It’s amazing how much security a relatively small swath of fabric can bring.
Even with the towel in place, Vohx is still staring, looking me up and down with unabashed curiosity. There is something else in his eyes, a small spark of hunger, that seems to transcend the boundaries between our species. I shake my head to clear away the thought. I look again. It seems more likely that the expression he wears is simply pure confusion at the unexpected sight of my small, pink body—the same curiosity that fills me when I look at him.
“I’m not in danger,” I say. “It’s just hard to hear people talking to you while you’re washing your hair.” I pause, watching him nod, filing the information away and likely wondering just how bad human hearing is in comparison with his own. “If you like,” I offer, “I can leave my door unlocked. Then if you need me for anything, you can just come in, and I’ll be able to hear you, whatever I’m doing.”
“That is agreeable,” Vohx says, nodding once, and turning to back out of the room.
I realize slowly that I have just bargained away my privacy. “Just make sure you knock first,” I add quickly. “So you don’t … scare me.”
He nods. I consider the situation salvaged.
6
Vohx
The sight of so much of Stacy’s skin on display at once was strangely … stimulating. It caused something to stir within me, but I am not yet sure if it was a positive feeling. It’sshockingly difficult to tell. I’m a good decade, at this point, into my adult life stage, but I have never before experienced an attraction to an alien. Technically speaking, I’ve barely been attracted to anyone before, what with the intense shortage of Velorian women that occurred following the heinous, underhanded actions of the Xzerg during our war. That was long ago, but the ramifications promise to linger for generations more.
The feeling was pleasant, if unexpected, which means that it was likely attraction. Still, knowing what to call it does not make it any easier to deal with. It is entirely inappropriate given our current situation.
I decide then and there to suppress the rising feelings before they have a chance to grow, to bloom into something even harder to ignore. I will stay attached to this mission and these people, but only for as long as it takes me to save Stacy’s life. According to the code, it only takes one instance for me to be released from my vow of protection. When it is done, I’ll go back to finding purpose, but perhaps not on X24. I’ve stuck to that section of the stars for far too long, waiting for the tug in my chest to lead me somewhere worthwhile. It is time I found my own path.
I am to sleep in an empty room that one of the soldiers directs me to. There is no spare bed, and it’s little more than a storage area, but I made a quick run by my ship after dropping the soldiers in the medbay earlier, when I had already decided that my vow would take me with Stacy. I cover half the floor in a bedroll, lie down, and ultimately do far more thinking than sleeping. It’s a good thing Velorians don’t need quite as much as some other species.
The meeting is every bit as contentious as I thought it would be in my imaginings last night. It begins with the scientists standing together near the monitor at the front of the room, glaring at myself and Stacy both, their animosity toward her having extended seamlessly to me. The soldiers speak together in a corner, their voices doing a little to break the tension in the room. They speak of old fights and scars won, and I am almost tempted to join in. Velorians aren’t known for their skill as weavers of great tales, but soldiers usually don’t have a problem with brevity, and I have several scars with interesting backstories.
Paulson is nowhere to be seen. The ship was on auto-pilot all night, but now that we were drawing close to my planet, he was back at the controls, ready to take over should any anomalies appear in our path.
Stacy stands closest to me, though there are a few careful feet of space between us after the occurrence yesterday in her cabin. Still, she does not seem overly uncomfortable, and other than a slight coloring of her face the first time I glanced her way this morning, there are no signs
that point to any feelings out of the ordinary.
Darwin is here, standing in the center of the room, but he cannot seem to get started on his own. It is Stacy who speaks.
“So,” she says, addressing the room at large. “What’s our next step?”
“He,” Darwin begins, staring in my direction, “needs to take us to find the plant Velor as soon as we make the landing on Veloria. According to Paulson, it shouldn’t be long now.”
It is more of a command than any sort of request, and I feel a slight sense of amusement at the fact. Darwin didn’t seem, from my previous observations, to be bold enough to say such a thing. Granted, the words seem to be just as much for Stacy as they are for me. Perhaps that’s how he thinks of me, as a dog whose leash is in her hand.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, before Stacy has a chance to come up with a retort or a way to spin the command into something less grating. “If you know the word in my native tongue or have a description of it, I may be able to assist in its location.” I purposefully keep my speech as calm and respectful as possible, thereby making Darwin look worse. The effect this has on him is immediately noticeable. He scowls and begins to fiddle with a device worn around his wrist, ignoring the slight chuckles now coming from the two soldiers and the almost proud smile on Stacy’s face.
Another flick of his finger against his wrist, and the human pulls up a holographic image that situates itself just above his arm. It is large enough to be easily seen and rendered in 3D, so to be as detailed as possible. The scientists look bored at the sight, and I wonder how many times they’ve been shown the same image in the past weeks of preparing for their mission. Stacy is likely familiar with the sight as well, but she examines it with fervor regardless. I don’t know much about the woman still, but if I were told to guess her motivations, I would imagine them to be selfless for the most part. She likely expects to be paid for her work, as would anyone, but I cannot imagine her signing onto this expedition simply because her bank account would increase and her name would be published in articles. The soldiers stare at the flower as though taking it in for the first time, and I notice them lifting their wrists, turning them toward the hologram to save it to their own devices.
“I recognize it,” I say. The plant in question is more of a weed than a flower really, but it is familiar to me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to the regions of Veloria that house it, and I find myself growing strangely homesick the longer I look at the hologram. “It is a mountain flower that grows in higher altitudes on Veloria.”
It feels strange to shape my mouth around the human word for my home planet.
Silence follows my words. The soldiers grinning with relief is the only sign that anyone but Stacy heard me speak.
“Take us there,” Darwin says at last, the words as hard as he can make them, another try at a command. His attempts to salvage his place as leader of this mission are seemingly fruitless so far, as even the other scientists seem more incredulous than impressed or respectful. The action must look as over-the-top and desperate to the other humans as it does to me.
I have run out of patience, and can no longer pretend not to be irritated at being spoken to in such a way. I take one half step forward, the slightest threat that I can give. “I don’t take orders from tiny, fleshy little aliens,” I say, baring my teeth in warning. I forget sometimes, that not all species have such sharp canines, until I am faced with their discomfort at the sight of my own.
Darwin winces and takes a step back, before remembering the act he’s putting on and shifting his expression into an indignant glare.
Stacy clears her throat with near theatrical loudness. “Vohx,” she says. It’s the first time she’s said my name within earshot of me, and the sound of it falling from her lips, the shape of them around the word, seems right. “Can you take us there?”
I nod.
She gives me a small, barely-there smile and lifts one brow. “Will you?”
“Yes,” I say, without hesitation. A little bit of respect goes a long way, is what I would like to chalk it up to, but in reality, I may very well have allowed this human woman to order me to take her there, so long as she kept looking at me in such a manner. This sort of thinking is not conducive to the mission. I will need to do better at controlling it, at reigning myself in.
The men look annoyed at the ease with which she gained my agreement, or perhaps with my presence in general. Vince is the exception. He merely looks distantly amused. I do not like the way Richards in particular glares so viciously at Stacy, as though her offense toward him is personal in some manner.
“Why would you—“ Richards begins, turning his narrow, suspicious gaze in my direction.
“She saved my life,” I interrupt, eyes narrowing in turn, tail twitching. “What have any of you done?”
My explanation is met with still more silence. I look to Stacy. “We’re nearing Veloria’s atmosphere. I will help your pilot chart a course.”
As I leave the room, Stacy catches my eyes, and mouths what my translator implant picks up as “thank you.”
7
Stacy
I know little about Veloria before we arrive, and what I do learn, I learn from Vohx as he sits across from Vince, Slate, and I in the ship’s small kitchen and dining area. The two soldiers did not set out to join the conversation, but rather wandered in the midst of it as they rummaged through the cabinets.
“There is no medium or compromise when it comes to Veloria and its ecosystem. Half the planet is bathed in close sunlight and the other half has never even seen such a thing. That is, I think, different from your planet.” The crew looks blank. “There is an icy half, and a fiery half,” Vohx explains. He takes a moment to pause and flick a forefinger in the direction of his own skin when he mentions the ice. I look at the steely gaze on his strangely handsome face and wonder what a fiery Velorian could possibly look like. “So I would advise you all retrieve cold weather gear before we leave the ship.”
“No kidding,” I say. “The temperature readings have already started dropping and we haven’t even touched down yet.”
“It will intensify the closer we get,” Vohx says.
The ship tilts a bit as Paulson delves farther down. According to protocol, we are all supposed to be strapped down in our seats during landings, but Paulson had stated before our first takeoff that that was mostly for nervous flyers. He claimed he’d tell us if we needed to do anything out of the ordinary. Darwin is no doubt sequestered in his cabin, holding tight to whatever is available despite the relative ease of this landing compared with the last. The only adverse effect of the swooping, downward motion of the ship is an uncomfortable drop in my stomach that is easy enough to ignore, and a few items falling from the shelves of the pantry, several of which Slate manages to catch before they hit the ground.
“Coats and pants are in the storage closet on most rigs like this. The door at the end of the hallway,” Vince tells me. He then squints at Vohx, looking him up and down. “I doubt we’ll have anything to fit your size and, ah, extra …”
“Appendage?” I try.
“Right,” he says. “Appendage. That’s what we’ll call the tail thing.”
Vohx’s nostrils flare, and there is a slight spark in his eyes that tells me he is capable of discerning a joking tone from a disrespectful one.
The soldiers continue perusing the pantry. Catching me staring, Vince explains. “We’ve got ration packs, but unless you toss in a few ingredients of your own, they’re fucking intolerable.”
“You think we’ll have to stay the night planetside?”
Slate surprises me by actually opening his mouth to speak. “Unless we get lucky enough to stumble onto the plant as soon as we step off the ship.”
“It’s not likely,” Vohx says. “The plant craves a thin atmosphere and great cold. It would be dangerous to land a ship so high on one of the mountains. We’ll likely need to hike up ourselves.”
; As difficult and somewhat frightening as it sounds, a thrill of excitement runs through me at the thought of traipsing through the snow in search of an exotic species of plant. There is nothing left to explore on Earth.
Satisfied with their take from their kitchens cabinets, Vince and Slate exit with their arms laden. “They’ll take any excuse to leave without you two,” Vince says. “Don’t dawdle too long.”
Vohx watches him leave. “Unless you are familiar with the weather patterns,” he says, “I do not think your expedition will be successful in my absence.”
I nod. “Personally, I don’t think Darwin’s brave enough to attempt it without you.”
“Would you?” he asks, without missing a beat.
“Attempt it? Yeah,” I say. “Of course.”
Vohx tilts his head. His eyes remind me of an icy lake, frozen in winter, but still alive beneath the surface, waiting for a reason to thaw. “For your people.”
I nod. “For Earth.”
The surface of Veloria is just as cold as Vohx warned us, but I find it oddly enjoyable. I feel plenty warm in the cold weather gear that I threw on before we gathered our things and headed down the ramp. Carrying a pack that contains my share of the supplies, none of which are particularly light, I’m almost too warm and relish the brisk breeze.
The men are complaining in no short order. Richards and Cole do so loudly and obnoxiously, while the soldiers seem to be using humor to deal with the situation, shivering all the while. Darwin simply trudges through the deep snow, looking sufficiently miserable, but never once opening his mouth.
“Christ,” Vince says. “Why couldn’t the plant be on the opposite side of the planet?”
Primal Planet Guardian_SciFi Alien Romance Page 4