by Elin Wyn
I would have been walking patrol, having zero clue as to how big the Puppet Master was, how it seemed to be willing to communicate, and that our sonar scanners could cause it pain.
I slowly moved closer to her, my body already getting stiff from the fall, and reached out. I carefully moved my arms under her and gently lifted her back towards me. I tried my best to make her as comfortable as possible against me while still supporting her so she could breathe.
“I wish you could tell me if this was okay,” I said quietly. “I’ve never been terribly good at being the soft and gentle type. I’m sorry, Daphne. I’m sorry for not being more diligent about keeping you safe.” I looked at her and wondered if my words were being heard. There had been countless studies showing that, even in a coma, you could hear the people around you. Doctors and scientists had done the scans that showed the parts of the brain that registered hearing and understanding lit up, even while comatose. However, it also showed little to no activity in the memory portion of the brain, depending on how bad your level of unconsciousness was.
“I…I think you can hear me, but I don’t know if you’ll remember any of what I say,” I whispered to her, pushing a strand of hair out of her face as I did so. “I’m sure you figured out that I didn’t want you to be down here, and I certainly didn’t want to be dragged down here by you. I should have tried harder to stop you, to keep you in one place where we would have been safer.
“But, somehow, you infected me with your enthusiasm. I don’t think I have ever seen someone so enthusiastic…no, enthusiasm is the wrong word.” I cursed myself for making that mistake. I was better than this. “Optimism. You were so optimistic about this half-processed plan of yours, if you could even say it was half-processed, that I found it difficult to contradict you.
“I…I’ve seen members of my team, and members of another team, fall for the women that they’ve come to work with, and they’ve all shown enthusiasm, and optimism, and even glee at the work that they were doing,” I continued. “But none of those women, at least in my limited experience with them, have ever been so…so…so headstrong and bullheaded as you. You let your optimism and excitement of researching this creature get the best of you, and somehow, I felt a small bit of that.
“I liked it,” I admitted to her unconscious form. “I liked feeling that optimism that something could be done. It…even if I wasn’t prepared to admit it, it pushed me to follow you.”
Where was any of this coming from? I never allowed myself to be so exposed. Not even my own brother, who knew everything about me, was privy to this level of exposure. I told him everything, he knew of my love of study, my true chosen path to enter the world of science—even military science—and my fears and worries, just as I knew his.
But never had I ever allowed myself to feel as vulnerable around him as I felt around her.
Not even when our tribe and city were obliterated in the Xathi attack. Rokul never spoke of it, but I knew that the destruction of our home, and the loss of our entire family, our tribe, weighed on him, as it did on me.
Something about this woman brought out, at least at this moment, parts of me that I had reserved only for myself.
I stroked her forehead, smoothing back the soft strands of hair that had long ago fallen from her bun. I’d wanted to do that from the first moment we met.
“I…” I chuckled a bit at my own hesitation, my own cowardliness.
How could I not speak right now? “I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone that’s as nice as you are. You’re nice to the creature that we’re trying to kill. You’re even nice to me, and I’ve been nothing but angry with you.”
Something caught my eye. I glanced down and saw her eyelids flutter, almost as if she were trying to keep her eyes closed. I stayed quiet and stared, and watched as one eyelid lifted, almost imperceptibly.
The corner of her mouth started to rise.
“What the zet?” I asked, the anger only barely held in check. “You’re awake?”
She opened both of her eyes, not even bothering to look the slightest bit embarrassed by her action, or non-action. “What?” she asked innocently.
I had visions of throwing her off me and leaving her behind, letting her die in this rekking underground abyss. “You were pretending to be unconscious and listening to me speak?”
She nodded, her head on my leg as her body rested against me. “Only for the last bit, I think. I didn’t want to interrupt.” She smothered a giggle as I glared at her.
“Oh, stop that. You ended up on a protective detail that you didn’t sign up for and you’ve done a terrific job, okay? I’m still alive, I’m only a little sore, and we’re doing good. You are doing fantastic, okay?” She struggled a bit to push herself up. “Help me up. Please?”
I helped her sit up. She wobbled a bit when she tried to rise on her own, but she eventually sat by herself. I ran my hands over her limbs to make sure there was nothing broken, trying to keep my movements and thoughts professional. Disciplined.
She was quiet while I checked her over, and I was left with my reeling thoughts. I was happy to see that she wasn’t hurt any further, and I was surprised at that, considering I was still angry at her for essentially lying to me.
Or was I?
Kneeling next to her, all thoughts disappeared as her face came close to mine. Her tongue darted out, licking her lips, and for a moment I froze, transfixed.
Micron by micron, I moved closer to her, watching her eyes darken, so close I could hear her breath grow ragged, see the subtle flare of her nostrils. Gently wrapping one arm around her back, the other hand winding in her hair, I brushed my lips against hers.
Sweet, soft.
Indescribable.
I lingered, luxuriating in the feel of her, then leaned back to break the connection.
Or started to.
Daphne moved forward faster, her arms winding around my neck, that tempting, tentative tongue teasing at the seam of my lips.
For a long moment, we stayed quiet, our mouths far too occupied for words.
Finally, she ended it. “We should get going if we want to figure this thing out and find a way out of here.”
The only movement left within me, other than my heart threatening to break through my ribs, was a nod.
Daphne
I followed Takar down into the twisting tunnels, my eyes focused on his figure. He was tall and muscular, and despite there being an edge to him, it only added to the attraction. Even though he was wearing his tactical gear, I could still see the contours of his toned muscles under his clothing. And there was something about his red skin that was so damn alluring.
It was still weird to think of him like that, but after that kiss…it was impossible not to. I still felt the pressure of his mouth on mine, and it was hard focusing on the task at hand when all I wanted was a repeat of that kiss. It didn’t help, of course, that we were completely alone. That just ensured my brain kept on coming up with different scenarios, all of them involved me falling into his arms.
I didn't even know entirely why I had kissed him in the first place. It had just felt right at the time, and I had acted on impulse. After listening to him speak with such abandon, to hear a man like him open up...I simply didn’t have it in me to resist my growing attraction any more.
But I was more than just attracted, I was curious about him, too. I had thought he was nothing but a brute on a government leash, but I was slowly coming to realize he was so much more than that. There were layers to him, and I wanted to start peeling them back.
He was protective and caring, and even though he wanted to do his job, he didn’t abandon all common sense just so he could follow his orders. More than that, he was as smart as he was curious, and he seemed genuinely determined to find a solution to the Puppet Master problem.
But there was still a lot I didn’t know about him.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” I asked him, earning a casual glance from him. We had time to kill while
we walked, so I figured I could pepper him with questions. Maybe that way I’d find out more about him. “Except when I’m unconscious, that is. Do you want me to pretend I’m asleep or something? I could do that.”
“What do you want to talk about?” he asked me, never slowing down his pace and purposefully ignoring the way I was teasing him.
I kept on following after, struggling a bit to keep up with him, but I didn’t complain: the sooner we found the Puppet Master’s brain, the better. Besides, now that we had no way of communicating with the outside, time was of the essence. Unless we found a way out, we were probably going to starve down here.
“I don’t know,” I replied, shrugging. Then, smiling, I decided to mimic the voice of a famous Nyheim holonews presenter. “Tell me about yourself. Who is the real Takar?”
“And what exactly do you want to know?”
“Anything,” I insisted. I was slowly starting to realize that a conversation with Takar was like trying to open a tin can with your bare hands, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. “What do you like doing?”
“I’m a soldier.”
“No,” I laughed. “I mean, outside of work. Or is being a soldier your hobby?”
“Of course not,” he replied. “Being a soldier is my job.”
“But you must have a life outside of work.”
“I don’t.”
I sighed. I should pretend to be unconscious again; maybe that way he’d start talking to me. I had only meant it as a joke before, but I was now starting to see the merits in such a stupid idea. “Why did you become a soldier, then?” I insisted once more. “Did you always want to become one? Is that why you enlisted under General Rouhr?”
“Most people don’t become soldiers because it’s their dream,” he shrugged, not even bothering to look back at me. “A few are born fighters, that’s true, but most soldiers fall into that role out of necessity.”
“I see,” I nodded. “So, you became a soldier because of the Xathi? Did they invade your homeworld?”
“In a way,” he admitted, and this time he finally stopped and turned around to face me. “The Xathi obliterated most of my tribe, and they laid waste to my city. But it was my older brother, Rokul, that was hell bent on fighting them. I just followed after him to make sure he didn’t get killed.”
I opened my mouth to say something...but I didn’t.
I had no idea of what I should say. I had seen how savage the Xathi could be, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel to lose everything at the hands of those creatures. When the Xathi started their attacks, I had been lucky: I had escaped the war unscathed, and both my parents had managed to survive. Most people I knew had lost someone, and I was one of the lucky few whose whole family had survived.
“I’m sorry,” I finally managed to say. “Was Rokul the one on the comms?”
“Yeah, he’s the dumbass coordinating the efforts on the surface. He’s probably losing it right now, thinking we’re dead or something. Which we will be, unless we find a way out of this place.”
“Wow, you really are an optimist, no doubt about it,” I chuckled, doing my best to lighten the mood. “Alright, let’s try this...if you hadn’t followed your brother into the military, what do you think you’d be doing? Would you be an engineer? A pilot? A gardener?”
He paused for a moment, his eyes on mine, and I could tell he was trying to think of an answer. “I don’t know,” he merely told me, and I felt my heart tighten at such a response.
The Xathi had robbed Takar of a life, it seemed, and his world had shrunk so much that it could only accommodate the military. I felt sad for him—the way I saw it, there was nothing worse than not having dreams. “After a while, I never really thought about a life outside the military. I just went wherever my brother went. Even though he’s older than me, I’ve always been the responsible one...and it’s my duty to ensure his safety.”
“That takes character,” I smiled. What I really wanted to do was give him a big hug, but I stopped myself from doing it. I knew he wasn’t the emotional type, but I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to stop my own tears from coming. “You must have a big heart, Takar.”
“I’m a Skotan. Biologically speaking, our hearts are bigger than human ones. So, yes, I have a big heart.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I said, not sure if I should laugh or give him a frown. “It’s just a human expression...it means that you care for others, and that you are a kind person. It means that you are...good.”
“I…” He trailed off, and then scratched his chin and nodded to himself. “Thank you, Daphne. I appreciate your words.”
“No need to thank me,” I smiled, reaching for him and holding his hand. “Just stating the obvious.”
Sweet man.
Sweet, big-hearted man was slowly giving me answers.
And the more I found, the more I wanted - needed - to know.
Takar
“Being a neuroscientist wasn’t my first plan,” she was telling me as we tried to find a way back up to where we fell from. We had come to find out, the tunnel we had fallen into wasn’t a completed tunnel. In one direction, it stopped maybe twenty yards from where we landed, so it forced us back to the other direction in hopes of finding a way out, or back to where we fell, or to the brain of the Puppet Master. “I started off wanting to explore space, you know? I guess every kid does.” She glanced up at me. “Until recently, we didn’t even know there were more than other human colonies out there. Surprise!”
She went on to tell me that being a space explorer ended up being what she called a pipe-dream, since the citizens on Ankau didn’t have a space program. That seemed a bit odd to me. They landed here using a starship, so why wouldn’t they have a way to get back off the planet if they needed to? Actually, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I’d never even seen the ship they originally landed in. Where was it?
I didn’t get an opportunity to ask. Daphne was still explaining how her own pathway through life changed. “Then, after I got over the space explorer kick, I wanted to become an explorer on this planet. I wanted to study everything about the planet. I always wondered why we only populated this continent, but then I thought about it a little and realized that we didn’t have enough people to spread out, at least not yet.”
It made sense. A small population would only be capable of exploring and inhabiting a relatively small area. It would also be prudent to keep that smaller population of people relatively close to one another in case anyone needed anything, to establish trade, and to allow different options for living and for study.
I was glad that she was doing all of the talking as we searched. I was uncomfortable with sharing things about myself. I just never felt the need to divulge too much about who I was and what I was feeling. If people needed to know something about me, I would tell them.
And right now, I wanted to know more about her.
Everything.
“So, because of that incident, I decided to go into neuroscience. I wanted to know why the brain did what it did. I mean,” she squeezed my hand as she looked up at me. “I know we’ve got hundreds of years of study on the brain already done, but not from here, you know? The atmosphere is a little different here, the water is a little different, so I figured that it might affect brains differently. Don’t you think?”
I nodded. She waited a moment, and when I didn’t say anything, she sort of frowned. “Are you even paying attention to me?”
“Yes,” I answered. “And I believe that your reasoning for thinking that the environment of Ankau will have a different effect on the brain than your original planet is sound.”
“Thank you,” she smiled sheepishly. “I was worried you weren’t listening to me.” Then she continued, talking about how she thought that if there really were environmental effects on the human brain, that could help her be a pioneer in the scientific field.
I was listening to the sound of her voice without the words she wa
s saying. I liked hearing her voice. It was soothing. It reminded me of what it felt like to hold her. To press her body close to me.
“Stop,” I said as I stopped walking. Daphne looked back at me, a look of concern on her face. “Do you recognize any of this?” I asked.
“Should I?” she asked in return.
I nodded. We were back in the tunnel that led to where we had fallen. “Follow me,” I said, grabbing her hand. I gently pulled her along behind me as we walked down the tunnel. Soon enough, we were back to where the floor had broken away.
“Wow,” she said when she finally got a good look at the distance we had fallen. She looked back at me in admiration. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded. “I’m fine. I’ll be a little sore, but that’s all. Look,” I said, pointing at what looked to be scrape marks on the tunnel walls. “I think that the vines tried to retreat down this tunnel and were reacting erratically in their haste.”
She nodded as she released my hand and studied the scrapes on the walls. “They must have been responding to the sonic frequency of your sonar scanner,” she said.
That was exactly what I had thought. She truly was a smart woman.
“You know what that means, don’t you?” she asked me, clapping her hands together in excitement.
“Not exactly,” I answered, unable to catch on to her sudden burst of bubbly enthusiasm.
She was exasperated. “Oh, come on. If it struggles with sonic frequencies, that means it has a tremendously sophisticated and sensitive sense of hearing.”
“Okay,” I nodded. I still didn’t get where she was going with it.
Daphne had said that there was a chance the Puppet Master wasn’t a plant, but a creature, or animal, of some sort.
“So, it’s not a plant. It generates its own heat, something plants do not do,” I started to summarize. She nodded. “It has incredibly sensitive hearing, something most plants don’t have,” I continued. “And it seems to be protective of you, something plants aren’t normally known for.”