by Ruby Dixon
“How old are you?” she asks. “I’m curious.”
“Fifty-six seasons.”
Suh-mer sputters. “You what?”
“Our kind is very long-lived.”
“God, I guess so. You don’t look like a silver fox to me.” She leans in and tweaks a few strands of my hair. “No grays yet.”
I smile. “I will not become gray for another fifty seasons I imagine.”
“Then I guess in a sense, you’re not that much older than me. At least, not enough for it to be weird.” Her face colors bright red. “For our friendship to be weird, that is.”
“Do your people not approve of friendships between different ages?” I ask, curious. I have not heard such a thing from the other humans.
She squints in the direction of the ship. “Oh look. Is that someone? No, I guess it’s just my imagination. Do you suppose someone else is going to come out soon?”
I blink at the flurry of her skittish words. Sometimes her mind is difficult to follow. “It is my hope they come out soon, yes, but I am prepared to wait all night.”
“Me too.” She shifts on her rock and stares straight ahead.
It grows quiet between us again. This time I do not feel lonely, though. I am thoughtful. Suh-mer’s words have given me much to think about. Perhaps I have been too complacent. Perhaps it is time to stop waiting for resonance to come for me and to choose the female I wish to spend my days with, like Vaza and Shail.
Perhaps like in her game of chess, I should take my opponent off-guard in order to win.
Not right now, though, I decide. Our focus needs to be on rescuing the others. But once they are safe, I will let Suh-mer know she is to be mine. Even if all of the humans were not mated, she would be the one I would choose. Her face, her form, and, most of all, her mind all appeal to me greatly.
I will wait for resonance no more.
SUMMER
Sometime close to dawn, another alien does in fact come out of the ship. It’s another one of the orange creatures, and this time, when Warrek jumps down in the pit after him, the fight goes on longer than it should, and I begin to worry. I shoot the laser gun—and the alien slumps, dead.
I mean, that’s one way to take out the enemy, but I can’t feel good about it. I know the rules here are different, but I just killed a guy. It doesn’t matter that he’s a bad guy, I still feel guilty.
I cry over it, too, but just a little, and only when I think Warrek isn’t looking. I don’t want him to think I’m a wuss.
I mean, I am a wuss, I just don’t want him to think it.
At this point, though, we have two guns. We strip the dead guy of anything that looks like a weapon or a communicator, pile snow over his body to hide it, and retreat to the fruit cave once more.
“Get some sleep,” Warrek tells me. “I will keep watch over the ship to make sure it does not leave.”
As if we could stop it even if it did decide to leave. But I nod at him and lie down with the furs, ignoring the steamy heat of the cave as best I can. Never thought I’d prefer my chilly little hut back in the canyon village, but after days and days of the sauna-like fruit cave, I’m starting to get tired of all the endless hot, wet damp.
My face feels better, though. I touch my fingertips—which also feel better—lightly to my skin, and wish that eyebrows and lashes returned as quickly as my new layer of skin did. It hasn’t been important to me that I look as attractive as possible…until now, of course. I glance up at the entrance of the cave, but Warrek isn’t looking in my direction.
In fact, he hasn’t really paid much attention to me outside of chatting, and I just feel so awkward about that kiss. Thinking about it makes me want to curl up with shame. He’s just being nice, and here I think it’s interest and decide to smooch him. What if he’s gay? He could totally be gay, and that would be fine. But now every time I look at him, I’m going to remember that I tried to hit on him and failed miserably.
And it’s a small damn village.
Despite the turmoil in my head, I manage to doze off for a few hours. Warrek and I trade “watch duty,” and he catches a bit of sleep. Then it’s nearly night again, and time to decide our course of action for this day. I gaze out at the ship, and I notice that the ramp hasn’t gone back up.
Either they’re inviting us in…or something else is wrong. I know we saw four. At least four. That leaves two and some possible buddies unaccounted for. I don’t like this.
I also don’t like waiting, either. By now they’re going to be aware they’re being picked off.
“I don’t know how much longer they’re going to be here,” I admit to Warrek as I point at the ramp that’s still in place. “It feels like every hour is another hour that could risk the others. What if we wait too long and they figure out how to fly the ship?” I gesture at the laser gun in my lap. “We’re both armed as well as they are now. Maybe it’s time to take them off-guard and make our move on the board.”
He nods. “You and I share similar thoughts. What is your suggestion?”
It’s flattering to be asked my opinion, but I feel wholly inadequate to offer one. “I don’t have a lot of experience with battle.”
“Hunting is not much like this either, I am afraid.” He almost sounds amused.
“No, I guess not.” I blow out a long, anxious breath. “Okay, well, then I guess we head in under cover of night. We could wear the armbands to throw anyone off and make them think their friends are returning. If nothing else, the armbands might have a passcode of some kind. Other than that, we just head toward the ramp, charge in, and hope for the best.” I wince to myself. “That sounds like a terrible plan, but I really don’t know what else to do. We can’t let them leave with the others.”
“I agree,” he says quietly. “Even if we risk our lives, it is a risk we must take.”
I nod. “It sucks, but there’s no other option. I know the others would do the same for us if the tables were turned. Plus, the village…”
He nods, his expression grim. “They cannot get to them. The kits must be kept safe at all costs.”
“We are in total agreement. You know how to shoot your gun?”
“About as well as you.”
“Well, that’s not totally comforting, but I get what you are saying.” I smile brightly at him to hide my nervousness. My stomach feels like a big ball of nerves, and even feasting on a ton of delicious fruit hasn’t helped things much. “If there’s no reason to wait, then we’d best start hiking. The suns are going down right now.”
Warrek nods thoughtfully.
I turn away to go put on my wraps. The moment I do, he grabs my wrist and turns me back around to him.
“What—what is it?” I look up at him, breathless. Just that small touch on my wrist is enough to make my insides flutter.
He steps closer to me. He leans in, his long, silky hair fluttering as he does. Slowly, he brushes his knuckles over one of my cheeks and then presses his mouth to mine. “If we survive this night, I am claiming you as my pleasure-mate.”
I gasp. “You—you what? You are?”
He nods. “You will show me this kiss with tongue, and I will take you to my furs and make you mine. I have decided.”
“Decided?” I echo, stunned. I can still feel the light brush of his lips against mine.
“Yes. You are my opponent, and I am going to take control of your board.”
That’s the sexiest, most bizarre thing I’ve ever heard.
Now how am I supposed to concentrate?
6
SUMMER
Despite the chill of the night air on the ice planet, I’m a nervous, sweaty wreck as we approach the ship. I hold my gun close to my body with sweaty hands, and try to stay calm. I fail, but I try at least. I glance over at Warrek, who is creeping next to me in the snow. It seems impossible, but his footsteps make no sound on the ground, unlike my crunching ones. He’s going to have to teach me how to do that sometime. He seems impossibly calm, too, like none of t
his rattles him.
Maybe I got all the nerves between the both of us.
A light flashes on my borrowed armband, and I pause. Warrek does, too, and we give each other uneasy looks.
“Should I push one of the buttons?” I whisper. We’re both wearing the bands stolen from the bad guys. They’re covered in a variety of small buttons with strange markings, and we’ve been careful not to activate anything, just in case.
Warrek studies his wrist. It’s now blinking, too. He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. “We should not warn them, but we will be cautious as we enter.”
“Cautious. Right.” I hold my gun a little tighter. “Because I totally am thinking ‘cautious’ as I go in and raid an alien ship. With a gun. Did I mention the gun? Because we already shot one dude and threw another off a cliff and I’m just thinking that—”
He puts a finger to my lips, silencing me—and reminding me of his promise for “later.” I’m all flushed with anticipation at the thought, but then he points at the ship. Right. One thing at a time.
Rescue first, sexytimes later.
I nod to let him know I understand, and then we’re creeping toward the ship once more. It looks ghostly and empty as it sits on the snow, and my big blob of leather is still in the bare spot by the tailpipe. I kind of wonder if we should try jamming it again, but what if it makes something in the ship explode and no one comes out? Then we’re basically killing our friends. All of our choices are bad ones.
“You remember how to shoot?” I whisper to Warrek as we move toward the ramp. We practiced earlier, but even with all the practice I’ve had messing with the laser gun, I’m still scared I’m going to mess something up.
He nods and then gestures at the ramp. “I will go up first.”
“You what?”
Warrek grins at me. “Did you wish to go up first, then?”
“Well, no! But—”
“Then I shall go.” He glances at the lit ramp, which is disturbingly empty. “If I do not come back out or give you a signal after a hundred-count, do not come after me. Take yourself back to the fruit cave and stay there.”
“What?”
He doesn’t explain himself, though. He just raises his laser gun to his shoulder and immediately heads up the ramp.
I hold my breath, waiting.
There’s a shout. A shot rings out. More yelling.
Fuck this. I’m standing here like a doofus, waiting in the hopes that Warrek—a barbarian—remembers how to shoot his gun? I can’t. Everything in me rebels at the thought of standing around. I brace my long, unwieldy gun against my shoulder and head in after him.
The ramp itself looks deceptively peaceful, but as I go up, another shot rings out, and a laser sizzles overhead. Light shoots past, and I bite back my yelp of surprise. It wasn’t aimed anywhere near me. “You’ve got this, Summer,” I whisper to myself. “Fake it until you make it.”
I take a few more steps forward, and then I see a flash of blue skin. It’s Warrek, hiding in the shadows of what looks like a stack of strange plastic crates near the top of the ramp. He’s pinned down, I realize, as another laser flies past. I follow the source of the laser, only to see another orange-skinned alien hiding a short distance away.
He sees me the same time I see him.
And that, of course, means that I’m completely visible. There’s no room to hide next to Warrek where he’s at, either.
Well, I’m going out shooting, then. I put my finger down on the button that activates the gun, and shoot.
Aim? Not so much. But I do shoot.
My blast goes wide, but the alien ducks his head and yells something out in a strange tongue. I charge forward, continuing to shoot as wildly—and quickly—as I can. I race forward, yelling and shooting, and it takes me a few seconds to realize that the alien isn’t all that far away and I’ve somehow managed to run straight at him.
And now I’m on him. So what do I do again? I shoot. Right at his face. He falls to the ground in a spray of blood, and then I’m standing over his body.
I just killed another man. Another bad guy, I remind myself, though I still feel sick to my stomach at the thought. I’m going to have to process that some other time, though, because Warrek’s at my side, a furious look on his face. “Suh-mer! What were you thinking?”
“I don’t think I was doing much thinking,” I tell him faintly. “Can we not argue about this right now?”
Someone yells off in the distance, and Warrek gives me a frustrated glance. “You are not safe—”
“Newsflash, neither are you,” I tell him. “I’m upset I just offed another guy, but let’s get angry about that later, okay? Right now we still need to rescue our friends.”
He nods and then pulls me closer to the wall, shielding me with his body as another man rushes forward. This time, he raises his gun and almost takes out Warrek before the big barbarian shoots him, and I experience a pang of fear and a little queasiness. Why is this so easy? Are guns really the answer? You can kill someone with the pull of a trigger…it seems unfair. I hate them, and yet I’m glad we have some so we can rescue the others. After this is done, though, I’m never killing another thing. Ever.
There’s a long tense moment of quiet.
“Anyone else coming?” I whisper against Warrek’s back. Now is not the time to notice how corded his muscles are or the fact that his tail is twitching against my front and tickling me. I need to pay attention to my surroundings—well, what I can see of them from around his side.
“I do not see anyone.”
I nod to myself and put a hand on his waist, pushing him over slightly so I can scan our surroundings. We’re in what looks like a cargo area—I guess, though I’m not that familiar with spaceships myself—and there are rows and rows of long, dark crates propped along the wall. Off to one side, there’s a hallway, and on the opposite side of the room, another. “Okay, if the coast is clear, then we should probably split up.”
“No,” Warrek says, a stubborn note in his normally mild voice. “I will not put you in danger.”
“That’s cute and all, but you don’t own me,” I tell him with a little pat to his arm. “And you can yell at me later when the others are safe. For now, let’s just get this stuff taken care of, okay? There are two hallways,” I tell him, pointing at them. “You should take one and I can take one. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we’re safe. All of us.”
He sets his jaw, but nods. He doesn’t like it, but he knows I’m right. When another voice yells out, he nods at me. “It sounds as if it is coming from there. I will take that one.”
“Be careful,” I tell him.
“And you.” Then he shoulders his gun and he’s gone, moving down toward the enemy with super-quiet steps. Damn. I’m really going to have to have him teach me that.
I watch him go and then give myself a little shake. Time to get moving. I race toward the other corridor, heart pounding as I hear laser guns go off in the other direction. I need to get my shit together and stay focused. I can’t go chasing him. I have to trust that he’s okay.
The hallway I head down has a few doorways, and all of the doors are closed. I pound on the entry-pad of the first one, because I don’t remember how the old crew that rescued us opened the doors when we were first brought on the ship, weeks ago. It’s been far too long and I wasn’t paying attention.
Nothing happens, and I put my ear to the door to see if I can hear anyone moving inside. It’s silent, so I move on to the next door. This one opens up to the med bay, but the room is empty. The supplies are scattered all over the floor, and the big long table is cracked. There’s a dried stain on the floor that looks a lot like blood, but it also looks really old. Ugh. I do a quick sweep of the room just to be on the safe side and then head back out.
Two doors later, I find the cockpit.
Or at least, it looks like the cockpit. Or the bridge. Or whatever they call it in space movies. There are several chairs and stations set up—all
of them empty—and screens display running numbers and foreign characters I can’t make out. One of them is busted and gone dark, and I wonder if the old crew gave them a good fight. I sure hope so. I move around the room, but there’s no one anywhere. It’s just beeping panels and flashing switches and one station that looks like it could be controls for the ship.
Which gives me an idea.
I heft my gun and aim at the terminal. If I trash this, no one’s leaving the planet. Granted, that means that me and the other humans would be stuck here forever…but we kind of thought that anyhow. This way, everyone stays for good—bad guys included. “I’m sorry in advance,” I whisper to no one in particular and hold down the button to fire my gun.
Shooting up the panels makes a lot of noise and smoke, and sparks fly as the gun toasts everything I aim it at. The lights at each station go dark, the screens overhead blip out, and the terminals start to look more like melted slag than anything else. A light flashes overhead—probably an alert of some kind.
“What are you doing?” growls an unfamiliar voice behind me. “Drop your weapon!”
I immediately drop it, and then I mentally kick myself. I should have turned around and shot. Shit, why am I such an idiot? I inwardly wince and put my hands in the air.
“Turn slowly,” the alien growls in English.
I do, and as I turn I see it’s another orange guy. They’re the ugliest things I’ve ever seen. From the rough pebbly skin to the overlarge head and the bulging eyes, it’s a hideous creature. He’s not going to be happy we killed his buddies, I bet. He stands in the doorway to the bridge area. I’m cornered, and there’s nowhere else to turn.
“Hands higher,” he snarls.
“I’m putting them up, I promise. Just don’t shoot me, okay? I really appreciate living. And breathing.” Oh god, my nervous babble is kicking in. “Though I suppose breathing comes with living, right? There’s not a lot of breathing dead people. Though there is a thing where corpses do seem like they’re breathing because of built-up gas in the lungs. I saw that on a documentary once. It turns out—”