by T M Roy
Only the lighter tone beneath the silky blue fur on her face betrayed her exhaustion and pain. The lost, frightened look was back in her eyes. Kent thought he understood. The only things linking her to home were four feet under several tons of rock.
“I’m sorry, Povre.” He limped closer and put an arm over her shoulders. Hell, he thought. I wasn’t going to do this. Besides, she might not appreciate—
But she turned toward him with a gulping sound and pressed tight against his body. Kent tightened his arm over her narrow shoulders and she tucked her head under his chin. It fit perfectly. Little jolts of electricity zinged into his jaw and carotids. Her scent added a spicy edge to the giddy sensation in his brain and elevated his heart rate. Clean fresh air, damp earthy soil, juniper berries, and exotic spice.
Stop that! Ken thought to his errant member as he felt himself start to get hard again.
He let his other arm creep around her until both encircled her slender waist. If anything, Povre burrowed closer. Her wiry arms locked behind Kent’s back.
He swallowed. He had the wildest urge to kiss her silly. To strip her from that dark gunmetal blue jumpsuit and—
Hold it, Kent. She’s smart, she’s pretty, but she’s an alien! Alien as in…not human.
“We’d better get moving,” he said gruffly after clearing his throat. “It’s a long walk.”
~~
Not looking at him, Povre backed away and picked up her empty pack. In it went the water container, the cooking gear, and anything he’d not yet replaced in his pack.
Chagrin flooded her and she was glad packing up gave her the excuse to keep her telltale face averted. What is it about him that attracts me so? That makes me behave like this? Want to touch him all the time? Why do I persist?
He isn’t even my species.
So? another part of herself argued back. I have close friends in four different species and five genders. Why should his be different?
But it was different. She didn’t want to touch her other friends all the time, or be with them all the time, or think about them the way her thoughts were taking with K’nt.
“Povre,” she heard him say. A huge sigh followed when she refused to look up. More words in his language, the delivery a bit halting; the tone apologetic, regretful. After only a minute, he let out another sigh and fell silent.
She kept her gaze on the ground and didn’t bother to try translating his meaning. What would be the point? So that he could tell her to stay away from him? To leave him alone and stop touching him? She must remember to keep her distance, be respectful, obey his directions. She had to rely on his good graces. After all, she’d put herself in his custody. She needed to remember she was the alien here.
The one who didn’t belong.
When the native finally turned to limp along the river trail, she limped after him.
HIGH ABOUT THE GREEN AND blue planet, hidden behind an artificial satellite and sophisticated—to that planet’s technology—screens, the sleek ship orbited, keeping pace with the communications array that helped hide it from visual means.
“You left Dr. Povresle behind?” repeated the ship’s captain in disbelief.
Eyeing the squat pink Kemmerian, H’renzek let out a breath of disgust.
“Look, Captain, you know the rules as well as I do. Matter of fact you repeated them word-for-line before our landing craft left. Povre left the camp. She was told to stay with the equipment and wait until we returned with the others who would serve on the rotation.”
“But she—”
H’renzek’s hands went to his hair, fingers clenched tight in the strands. Furious heat flooded his body. What was wrong with his shipmates? Did they forget he was responsible for everyone on the Exploration team, and not just Povre? “I was following operational procedure, Captain. Do you think I feel happy about possibly sacrificing Povre to those below?”
He didn’t have to look beyond the captain or her executive officer to know that others were also taken aback by his display of temper. “I love Povre,” said H’renzek in a calmer tone. “But I had to ensure the safety of the others. The rules say to clear out and then consider alternatives. That’s what I’m doing. Considering alternatives.” His anger faded into honest appeal and concern.
The Kemmerian captain’s eyestalks bobbed and swiveled around the control area. One of her five grasping tentacles thumped in agitation against the side of her seat.
Goddess, please help me stay calm, H’renzek prayed.
“We’ll wait on recovery,” said the captain finally. “Our other mission assignments should proceed as planned. We’ll monitor the transmissions carefully. If we see any indication Dr. Povresle remains undiscovered, then we’ll search and rescue. Was she infused with the local speech-patterns before her descent?”
Suddenly ashamed, H’renzek cast his gaze to the deck.
“Commander H’renzek,” she said sternly, “I thought that was prerequisite for all the observers, even though they don’t plan to make a contact.” Her tentacles rose in disbelief toward her head. Mottled spots and stripes appeared and disappeared on her smooth skin.
“You know Povre,” said another Sirgel scientist who had been on the team. “Every time she was scheduled with the Teacher she would have some other important study to review…”
“I meant to infuse her before turning her loose in the camp,” H’renzek said. “It only takes a few hours. But Povre has a real gift for languages. That’s one of the reasons she was chosen.”
“But her mission was to discover if the lower life forms had any real language. So she—”
H’renzek glared at the speaker and she fell silent. Of course it had been Povre’s close friend, Jennsle, another of the science team.
“Captain,” the young technician said after a moment, appealing directly to the Kemmerian, “I want to go look for her.”
H’renzek had to give her credit for bravery, since she went right over his head with that request. All the same he filled his second glance with cold warning. Had the young technician learned the fine art of being outspoken from Povre?
“Absolutely not.” He and the ship’s captain spoke at the same time.
“I’m sorry, Jennsle,” added the Kemmerian, one of her eye stalks rotating toward H’renzek. The deliberate change in her tone warned him to back off the technician. “Your offer is admirable, as is your loyalty to your friend. But if anyone at all is allowed to recover Dr. Povresle it will be one of the military personnel, someone who is trained for it.”
“Like the Commander? But he—”
H’renzek ground his teeth together. The technician was very lucky she wasn’t within his reach right now.
“That’s enough, Jennsle,” said the Captain in a very soft voice.
Jenn’s color deepened, her ears went down, and she lowered her gaze.
“Now, Commander. Since Dr. Povresle’s preparation for the surface expedition was lacking in a critical area, how is she to compensate?”
“She’s a local empath,” said H’renzek after taking a deep breath. “If she makes a contact with one of the higher native lifeforms she should be able to make herself understood. Also, if she mindlinks she’ll pick up the language quickly.”
“Links with a native?” another science staff member asked. “We know it’s possible, of course. The Folonar do it. But an unfiltered sensory overload will make her sick. Might kill her.”
The captain’s tentacles dropped to the surface of the table and her colors reverted to their normal soft pink. “Science team, you are all dismissed.”
H’renzek remained in his place quietly as the scientists and technicians left the room. The captain, her attention obviously on the departing members of the surface team, also didn’t move, aside from the normal rippling her gelatinous form made even at rest.
Once the room was cleared, her eyestalks swung toward H’renzek once more. “I know Povre can be very…shall we say, persuasive? And you’re entitled to be a li
ttle indulgent with her, H’renzek.” Amusement rippled in her otherwise serious voice. “But—”
“I understand,” said H’renzek, his heart heavy. Of course he knew firsthand how independent and curious Povre was. He also knew very well the Teacher made her sick. Thus he hadn’t insisted, instead agreeing to allow her to access his rudimentary knowledge of the local dialect once he returned with the rest of the landing party. She had learned directly from his mind on previous times with minimal ill effects.
“You know the procedure from here, I think, Commander,” added the Kemmerian, not unkindly. “When you’re ready, we’ll pick up this discussion.”
“Yes, Captain.” He inclined his head respectfully and withdrew. Now it would be up to him to locate, track, and plan any sort of recovery. And hope the captain saw it risk-free enough to make the attempt.
H’renzek barely managed to keep his groan of despair inside.
Yes, he had been lenient with Povre. And his bending of regulations could have very well been her death sentence.
I had no call coming down on Jenn, either on the surface or just before.
The two women had grown up together, been inseparable the past twenty years. And although younger than Povre by a few years, Jenn was more than a best friend to the missing scientist. H’renzek had to admit to himself having Jenn around as constantly as Povre had been good for him, as well.
He lengthened his stride to catch up with the technician before she turned toward the research section.
“Jennsle.”
She stopped, glancing up at him from the corners of her eyes. Her ears were still down and as he approached, they flattened slightly against her head in anxiety and caution. “Commander?”
“I apologize for my—”
“Oh, H’renzek. I understand.”
Only his military training and reflexes kept him, as well as the technician, on their feet as Jenn threw her arms around him and squeezed. Yes, he managed to think as the air was pressed from his lungs, this one was very much influenced by my demonstrative and outspoken daughter.
“Now then.” Gratified and humbled at her reaction, H’renzek set Jenn back a pace.
Her blue-violet eyes blazed with determination. “You need my help.”
“No,” he almost said before thinking better of it. Jenn had considerable skills and using them would give him more time. “Do you have duties elsewhere?”
She shrugged. “Nothing that can’t wait. Cataloging samples.”
“Then yes, I need your help.” The smile she gave him in response almost caused an answering one on his face. “Clear it with your department head and meet me in tactical.”
* * * * *
KENT DIDN'T MIND HUDDLING CLOSE to Povre. They were tired, aching, chilled. The sun was low, the afternoon waning into early evening. Even though the chances were slim to none anyone would be on this section of the river trail during this time of year, Kent made certain they moved off the path and out of sight. It was better to err on the side of caution.
They shared some water and trail mix. He refused the handful of easily gleaned juniper berries Povre seemed to like. He could smell their tangy spice on her breath. There was nothing wrong with juniper berries. Kent liked the smell and even the unique taste when they were used in cooking. The herbal and medicinal properties were extensive. But for eating out of hand with the same gusto he would apply to a handful of loganberries or strawberries…uh-uh.
“K’nt,” she said. She held her hand out again, as if offering him the fuzzy-looking berry-like blue cones. “Is name ‘No’?”
He shook his head. “No, Povre—” He stopped, studying her face in the dappled sunlight. “Of course. Oh, great. You want to know the name for these?” He touched the small mound of berries in her cupped palm.
“Name. Your name is K’nt. My name is Povre…is name this, please? Is name ‘No’?” She wrinkled one side of her tip-tilted nose at him.
He chuckled. All this time he’d been saying “No” or “No thanks,” to her juniper berries, thinking she had to be a little dense, since he’d made it clear at breakfast he didn’t enjoy them.
He stretched his hand to touch a thick juniper nearby. “Juniper. Jun-i-per. Juniperus communis—” He waved a hand in dismissal. She didn’t need to know the Latin names for every variety of juniper in the area when she was struggling enough with the English! “Juniper tree.” He touched the tree. “Juniper berries.” He returned his finger to the items in her hand. Even though it isn’t really a berry, he added mentally. “Povre likes to eat juniper berries, like the squirrels and birds and deer like to eat them.”
As always, her smile made him glad to be sitting down. “Thank you, K’nt. Is Jhoon-ip-perr…juni-per tree, this juni-per bears…bears—bearzies?”
“Ber-ries.”
“Berries. Juniper berries. You, K’nt, like juniper berries no. I, Povre, like this yes. Ani-mals like…sku-yerels, deer, bird.”
“Squirrels.”
She made a face. “Skirls.”
“All right, I guess I can’t complain. You’re exceptional.” He smiled. He realized he was smiling a lot. With Povre, though, a smile seemed to be worth a thousand words.
But she didn’t smile back. Her large eyes were solemn. “K’nt. I, Povre, no animal same skirls, bird. I, Povre, same K’nt…” She touched her head, her breast. Her effort to make him understand was not only visible. He felt it. And her voice trembled just a bit when she spoke. “I, Povre, like animals look eyes.”
“You like to observe animals. Look-eyes means observe.” The signs and translations between them came now with ease.
“Yes…like observe. Like note make, same K’nt.” Her gaze indicated the rectangular outline of his notebook in one of the many outer pockets out his backpack.
“Observe and make notes. Study.” He felt awful. Her notes were probably on some electronic device buried under earth and rock. No wonder she didn’t want to leave them behind.
She nodded. “Yes, K’nt…” The unspoken but could have been a shout. “I, Povre, no animal is.” And he understood, even without her signing. His heart lurched. Visions of Povre in the hands of rabid government scientists slammed into his mind’s eye.
She knew. Somehow she knew what could happen to her.
Kent took her hands and sandwiched them between his. “No,” he agreed. “You are not an animal.”
“I, Povre, Sirgel is,” she said, hand splayed on her chest. “Ene j’asi Sirgel. You, K’nt, is?”
“Human,” supplied Kent.
“Ha-yumin. Humen.”
“Human.”
“You, K’nt, human j’asin is. Please, name j’asi…j’asin?”
Her slender hands and clever fingers clearly illustrated her query. They went to her breasts, the spot between her legs, and made a curving motion over her flat belly, as if indicating pregnancy. She cuddled an imaginary baby to her breast. “J’asi.” Then she lightly touched his chest, and his crotch. “J’asin…is name?”
Kent flushed, but in the name of science and human-alien relations, answered.
“J’asi is female. Woman. J’asin is male. Man. I am a human male. You are a Sirgel female.”
“K’nt…?” Her eyes lingered on the part of his anatomy that had been feeling entirely too uncomfortable lately.
“No, Povre, I’m not going to show you.” Panic rose in him as he felt his errant member disagree with him.
It wasn’t hard for him to guess her plumbing was in similar locations to a human woman’s. The few times they answered calls of nature Kent had motioned for her to stay, stepped off the trail, and kept his back to her. In her turn, she would step to one side of the path and hunker without signs of needing privacy, but Kent spun around and closed his eyes tight every time.
He had to admit he was curious where the openings were on her seamless-appearing jumpsuit. And wondered just how her naked body would appear. Was it as plush and soft as the parts exposed already? Did those curves un
derneath the clothes match the ones in his imagination?
To get his mind off that he reached for his notebook so he wouldn’t forget the new words.
“I, Povre, show K’nt Sirgel j’asi? Make note?”
Her hands went to the front of her jumpsuit. He captured them before she could reveal more than he was ready to handle. His notebook and mechanical pencil dropped to the forest floor in the process.
“Too cold,” said Kent, his voice squeaking into a boyish treble. His motion required him to lean closer. His hands were on hers, just brushing the swell of her bosom. His face only inches from hers.
She nodded once in agreement, but a disappointed flash crossed her features.
“You, K’nt,” she said, her husky voice low, “like Povre?”
The constant low voltage he felt whenever in direct contact with her exposed hide made him start to breathe a little harder.
“Yes, I do like you, Povre.”
Her face moved a little closer to his. “I, Povre, like you good. Thank you.”
The scent of juniper berries and exotic spice became a taste. Her cute tongue touched his lips, and staying on the outer surfaces, slid from corner to corner. A spark ignited from that touch and raced along his already thrumming nerves. The soft, warm pressure of her mouth followed the small lick.
“Is name?”
Her husky voice barely dented his dizzy pleasure at the brief contact.
“Uhh, name?”
“Yes. Name.” Her tongue and lips touched his again.
“Kiss,” Kent managed to say.
“K’nt like kiss no?”
He released her hands, brushed her velvet-soft cheek, slid his fingers through her thick shaggy black hair, and cupped her face like a flower. The pad of his thumb stroked across her tempting mouth. What the hell, he thought. “I liked you kissing me, Povre,” he said. “Now let me show you how humans do it…”