by Rinelle Grey
Then, right in front of her eyes, the flames dissipated and a silver form emerged.
It sailed through the sky at an amazing speed, and adrenalin pounded through Marlee’s veins. She shaded her eyes from the sun as it crashed through the trees some distance away. The ground shuddered at the impact.
If it wasn’t a meteor, what was it? It looked a little like a miniature version of the Tenacity, the old rocket ship that had brought her people to this planet. But if it was a rocket ship, where was it from and what was it doing here?
After all this time, had someone come to rescue them?
She was too young to remember the hope people held onto after their arrival, but Nelor remembered. He had told her, childlike hurt and pain in his voice, how they had waited. How it had taken several years for them to accept there would be no rescue.
Had they given up too soon?
Marlee picked up her skirts and ran. The ship had been going down fast. The crash she had felt had been too hard for a controlled landing. The occupants could be hurt and needing help.
She glanced over her shoulder, back towards the village. She should wait for somebody to come with her, but she was too excited to stop. Someone would come looking for her soon enough. She continued on, her breathing laboured.
After about half an hour, she reached the small stream that ran through the woods. In summer, the stream trickled along, and she and Nelor had picnicked beside it, paddling in the shallow, cool water.
Now it was swollen from recent storms, and though it was flowing too fast for ice to form, it would be freezing cold. The stepping stones she used in summer still peeked out of the water, so she took a deep breath and stepped carefully across without incident. The ground rose gradually after the stream, but at least the rocky surface made for firmer footing.
It took another hour to reach the crash site. Marlee hid in the scant shelter of the bare branches for a few moments, catching her breath. The giant silver spaceship rested, still and silent, at the end of the long furrow it had ploughed through the trees.
Even once Marlee was breathing normally, her heart hadn’t returned to its normal beat. This ship held so much promise, so many possibilities. If its occupants were still alive, and the ship repaired, perhaps they could escape from this planet?
Despite the crash, she could see little damage to its graceful shape. A shape that bore only the slightest resemblance to the ship that had brought her people here. The Tenacity had been built for carrying people and cargo over long distances. Nelor told her it had taken forever to reach this planet, and she supposed that to a five year old, the nine months of the trip must have seemed like forever. This ship, long and slim, had been built for speed.
Not that it was going anywhere now.
After a while, when nothing happened, she stepped out from behind a tree, wondering where the entrance was. There was no door that she could see, only a word on the side in raised text. Hylista. She stepped closer and touched the exterior with one finger. It was still warm.
She ran her hands slowly over the text, down across the smooth surface then paused. The perfect shell was marred by a rough patch. Her fingers slid up and down a small crack, imperceptible to the human eye. She pushed at it with her fingers then jumped back as a gaping hole appeared in the surface with a hiss. Smoke billowed out.
She hovered a few metres back, coughing. Her nose wrinkled. It smelled strange, bitter and tangy, not like normal smoke at all.
Even when it cleared, inside remained dark and still. When no sound or movement eventuated, curiosity overcame her caution, and she stepped up to the doorway and peered in.
It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Slowly she could make out shapes, buttons, instruments, and a shadowy form slumped over the console at the front. It didn’t stir. Taking a deep breath, she ventured inside to find out if it was still alive.
Fear clutched at her throat. What if the pilot hadn’t survived the crash? Her heart thudding in her chest, she picked up his wrist and breathed a sigh when she found a pulse beating strongly. She struggled to move his deadweight into an upright position to check for injuries.
Once he was leaning back in the chair, his head lolling against the headrest, the reason for his lack of consciousness became apparent. A nasty looking gash on his forehead slowly seeped blood. Some of it matted his short spiky hair to his scalp. His face was slack, and a tiny dribble of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. She checked what she could see of the rest of his body, but couldn’t find any other injuries.
He was so pale and still that she checked his pulse again, but it still beat strongly, and when she held her hand in front of his mouth, she could feel his warm breath. He didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger, so she looked around the rest of the ship. Was there anyone else here?
This room was small, maybe three large steps across and four deep, but she could see another room through the doorway at the back. She walked towards it and hovered in the entrance, poised to run if necessary.
The second room wasn’t much bigger. A bench ran along one side with cupboards underneath and above. At the far end, a small table was attached to the wall with bench seats on both sides. The space on the other side was occupied by two beds, one above the other in holes in the wall. The sheets on the bottom one were rumpled. In the corner behind the bunks was another door, this one closed.
The beds indicated there had only been one person on the ship, but she should check the closed door, just in case. As she walked towards the door, she felt boxed in. The area was narrow. She could touch the benches and the beds on each side as she walked between them. There was nowhere to run. She hesitated outside the door then took a deep breath before pushing the door open.
The room inside was tiny with a glass cubicle in one corner and a shiny white toilet with a sink built into the back in the other. Empty.
Satisfied there was no one else on board, Marlee returned and surveyed the unconscious pilot. He might have looked slim, but his body was taut and wiry. She’d struggled enough just to get him upright earlier; there was no way she could move him by herself. The wisest course of action would be to go back to the village and get help, but she didn’t want to leave him. What if he woke up while she was gone?
Marlee gingerly sat down in the empty seat next to him and waited. Someone would miss her eventually... she hoped.
As she waited, she couldn’t help but stare at him. His angular jaw was clean shaven, but she could see a dark shadow indicating whiskers under the surface. Even the cut of his hair was different than anyone she knew. Unable to help herself, she reached out a hand towards his hair. Was it soft and smooth, or spiky? But before her hand touched it, she pulled back.
In all her nineteen years she had never met anyone she didn’t already know.
This man was completely new.
Chapter 5
As they exited the woods, Marlee walked beside the stretcher the men had hastily put together, a hand resting on the unconscious pilot’s chest. His slow, steady heartbeat reverberated through her skin, until she was sure her own kept time. Each rise and fall of his ribs reassured her that he still lived. She kept her eyes on his face, even though the ground was rough and uneven. Other than the gash on his forehead, still seeping blood, he looked calm and peaceful, like he was asleep.
She bit her lip. It had taken over an hour for the villagers to find her and another two hours to traverse the woods. Had the delay reduced his chances of survival? She desperately wanted this man to live. More than anything else.
More than anything else? She shook her head impatiently. She didn’t want him more than anything else. She wanted what he offered—a way off this planet.
Marlee stumbled on a rock. A shadow had fallen across the field, and for the first time, she looked up. The bright sun disappeared and a cold wind gusted across the field. Dark clouds rolled above her, and a bolt of lightning split the sky. Marlee held her breath, counting quietly. Even tho
ugh she knew it was coming, the loud crack of thunder made her jump. Beren hefted his end of the stretcher, and without saying a word, everyone sped up.
They were halfway across the field when Beren commented, “Here they come.”
Marlee tore her eyes away from the pilot’s face for a few moments to take in the people running from the village to meet them. She smiled a little at Jaimma, running at the front of the group.
A few minutes later the group arrived. Willing hands took each end of the stretcher, and Beren rubbed his arms in relief.
About twenty people, mostly about Marlee’s age, crowded around, jostling each other in their excitement, all wanting a look at the mysterious stranger. Marlee clutched the side of the stretcher, determined not to be pushed away.
“Was that really a spaceship?” Jaimma asked, her eyes wide.
“Is it still in one piece?”
“Did you see inside? Is it anysogen powered?”
“Can it fly?”
The questions came thick and fast, and Marlee could barely keep all her answers straight. “It didn’t look damaged, but there must be some reason it crashed. I don’t know if it’s anysogen powered or not.” She hadn’t even thought of that. Without light speed capability, rescue would be a long time coming.
Jaimma squeezed in next to her and eyed the stranger, a speculative gleam in her eyes. “He’s cute, Mar.” Jaimma nudged her.
“I hadn’t noticed,” she said stiffly.
A few high pitched giggles erupted from the group. She sensed the excitement flowing through her friends.
“Do you think this means we might get off this planet? Away from the anysogen?” Rejan was the first to say the words. Jenka held his hand tightly, the other resting protectively on her belly. Why were they so eager to leave? They were going to have a baby anyway.
“I don’t know.” Marlee shook her head. She hardly dared hope. She glanced back at his face, so still and pale. Her stomach tightened. He had to wake up. He just had to.
With fresh stretcher bearers, the remaining distance to the village disappeared, everyone spurred on by the crashes of thunder, growing closer and closer. The council elders greeted them on the outskirts, just as the first heavy drops of rain splattered on the ground.
Yasmyn was the first to speak. Her yellow gold hair was pulled back in an untidy bun and her face was taut. “Marlee, what did you think you were doing, running off like that? You could have been hurt!” She enfolded her daughter in her arms for a brief moment before she spared the stranger so much as a glance.
“Pity she wasn’t.” Marlee didn’t even have to look to recognise her half-brother’s voice.
“Colby!” her mother reprimanded.
Marlee ignored him. He’d always been jealous of any attention their mother paid to her.
Those who had run across the field fell silent.
Marlee disentangled herself from her mother’s arms, took a step back towards the stranger, and reached for his unresisting hand. “Some things are worth the risk,” she said, her chin up.
Her mother stared at her for a moment, surprise written on her face.
“Best get him inside before the downpour,” Kalim said, glancing at the clouds. “You’re lucky you made it back in time.”
Marlee hurried to stay next to the stranger as he was taken into the hall. As the stretcher bearers settled the man on the floor inside, rain pelted down on the roof. Even though it was only midday, it was dark inside, and someone lit a lamp.
Marlee looked around frantically. Where was Karla? She gave a sigh of relief when the crowd parted to let the nurse, leaning on her walking stick, through.
Karla was the village’s only trained medical personnel. Nearing sixty now, she often left minor matters to the two villagers she had trained to help her. Marlee was glad she had come herself this time. Reluctantly, she released the stranger’s hand and stepped back to give the nurse room. Karla bent over the stretcher, muttering to herself.
Reassured by Karla’s presence, Marlee turned to her mother. “Did you see, Mother?” she asked. “He came in a spaceship. It doesn’t even look too badly damaged. Maybe we can fix it.”
A tumult of voices rose around them. Even a few cheers.
Her mother frowned and held up a hand. Everyone quietened. “That ship crashed for a reason, Marlee. Just because it looks okay doesn’t mean it will fly.” Her voice rose enough for everyone to hear. “Don’t get your hopes up until we have more information.”
Disappointment swamped Marlee. Her mother had done this all her life, telling her not to get excited about something, just in case. She stuck out her lower lip. A spaceship had just fallen out of the sky, and the injured pilot was right here. She had every right to be excited! “The Hylista,” she said.
“What?” Her mother looked confused.
“The ship. It’s called the Hylista. That’s what it says on the side anyway.”
Her mother stared at her for a moment.
“Even if his ship isn’t repairable, the Colonies will send another one, won’t they?” Jaimma asked.
“We don’t know if the Colonies even sent him.” Kalim stepped forward and eyed the man lying on the stretcher. His brow creased.
The urge to stand between Kalim and the man was strong. As though a suspicious stare could hurt him. What a silly thought. The man was unconscious. A look wasn’t going to bother him.
“Well, why else would he be here?” Jaimma asked.
“Because of the anysogen, you moron.” Weiss pushed his way to the front of the crowd and looked down at the unconscious pilot, his eyes narrow. The scowl on her stepfather’s rough, lined face sent a chill through her, and it took all her willpower not to take a step back.
Weiss ignored her. “No one is going to rescue us, not after all this time. They’re only here for the fuel.”
Everyone fell silent, as though his words had drained all their excitement. Weiss had a way of doing that.
“What does it matter if he is?” Marlee said, her voice rising. “Either way, we’ll get off this planet!” Longing filled her chest.
“Right now, our first concern is for his well-being,” Yasmyn interrupted. She turned to Karla, who was still bent over the motionless body. “How is he?”
The diversion worked. Everyone’s eyes turned to the nurse as she gently pressed on his torso a few more times before she pulled herself up on her cane. “He has no broken ribs, and other than the injury on his head, I can’t find anything major wrong. He has a serious concussion, but we’re going to have to wait until he wakes to find out anything else. All I can do is make him comfortable and watch for any signs of fever that might indicate an infection.”
Marlee looked down at him, and licked her lips. “Surely there’s something you can do? Some herbs? Or a poultice?” Karla often lamented the absence of the sophisticated equipment that they had left behind on Semala, but since none of them could increase her fertility, Marlee had never felt the lack herself. Until now.
Karla nodded. “Of course, Marlee. I can give him something to reduce any swelling or bruising. He looks young and healthy. He has a high chance of surviving.”
Marlee bit back a sigh. She didn’t want a ‘high chance’. She wanted a guarantee.
“Where’s Nerris? He went looking for you,” Kalim said.
“He and Nelor stayed behind to examine the spaceship,” Beren said.
Kalim frowned and looked out the window. “I hope they have shelter from this storm.” As he spoke, the dull roar of the rain increased. Lumps of ice bounced on the grass outside, quickly turning the area white. Marlee winced. Was Nelor okay? Had they stayed at the ship, or were they on their way home and caught in this?
“There they are,” Jaimma called out, pointing out the window. “They just went into Brenda’s house. I saw them.”
Marlee couldn’t see what she was pointing at from this distance, but she couldn’t leave the stranger to look. Jaimma had seen them, so Nelor was safe. She tur
ned back to the stretcher. Was the pilot looking paler?
“We should go out there as soon as the storm is over,” Belac said, stepping up beside Weiss. “Maybe we could bring the ship back to the village.”
Marlee shook her head. Belac was so similar to her stepfather, but she wasn’t afraid of him. “It’s too big to move,” she said. “We’ll have to go out there to repair it. As soon as the pilot wakes.” She wished she knew his name. Would it be something that sounded as exciting and exotic as the name on his ship?
Kalim exchanged a glance with the other elders.
What was wrong? Surely they could see the possibilities. “If we can repair it quickly, we might be back in the Colonies before winter hits,” Marlee said.
The other council members were frowning as well. Marlee opened her mouth to say more, but before she could speak, Kalim turned back to Karla. He had to yell to be heard over the storm. “Do you have room for him in your house?”
Marlee froze. She didn’t want the stranger to go to Karla’s. If he did, she wouldn’t see him again. Her stomach clenched.
Karla shook her head. “There is no need for him to be near me. There is little I can do for him besides the initial care. I already have Talta and her daughter staying, the child’s arm has a bad break, and I need to make sure she doesn’t move it too much before it has a chance to heal. I don’t want any excitement around her right now.”
The council began discussing options.
“Balac has a spare bed. He could go there.”
“No, Jenka has moved back home now that the baby is nearly due. She wants to be near her mother in case she has difficulties.”
“Well how about Brenda? She could move some of the children around to make a spare bed. They could share for a week or two?”
The definitive shake of Karla’s head stopped them. “I don’t think he should stay in a house with children. Not when we know nothing about him.”
“He can stay with me,” Marlee blurted out. As soon as she said it she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it earlier. It was perfect! She tried not to smile, to look properly serious.