Runner's Moon: Jebaral

by Linda Mooney

  Klotsky gave a little grunt. “Just doing my job, the way I see it.”

  Hannah watched as he peered intently into the alien’s face. In the brilliant moonlight every nuance and difference between their species could clearly be seen, but it no longer seemed to bother him. It was not surprising to realize that sometimes allies looked less like a person than an enemy. “So now what?” the man asked.

  Jeb sighed. “Move on. What other choice do we have?”

  “And keep running?” The sheriff snorted. “How long do you think you’re going to be able to do that?”

  “However long we have to,” Hannah broke in. She snaked an arm around Jeb’s waist to show her support. “I want to spend whatever time we have together with Jeb … or Jebaral.” She flashed a smile up at him. “I don’t care where we are, or how often we have to keep moving to stay one step ahead of the Arra.”

  “Well, it seems pretty stupid to me to turn down an offer of help. Especially someone in your position.”

  Simolif came up behind his brother. “What offer of help?”

  “What are you trying to say, George?” Mrs. Newburg asked.

  “I’m just saying that if the man’s smart he wouldn’t turn down any offer of help.” Klotsky scratched the back of his neck. “Despite what you guys look like—”

  “Ruinos,” Hannah interjected. “They’re Ruinos.”

  “Ruinos,” Klotsky repeated. “Anyway, as I was saying, despite the fact you Ruinos look like something out of every kid’s nightmare, you’re not the bad guys. In fact, I would consider Tumbril Harbor pretty lucky if you stayed, Jebaral. You and Hannah.”

  “The Arra may come back,” Jeb reminded him.

  The man nodded. “True, but we beat them this time because of two very important things. First of all they weren’t interested in us humans. They were here only because they wanted you back. They turned their backs on us, and that was where they went wrong.” Klotsky grinned. “We can be a pretty vicious species, too, if I do say so.”

  “And the second thing?” Jeb asked.

  “They weren’t expecting you to fight back,” Hannah answered. “You had been kept prisoner for so long they never thought you would try to fight them. They brought their torturing devices with them, expecting you to run but not fight back.”

  Simolif broke in. “She’s right. They don’t expect us to put up any resistance. And they’ll never expect us to have second-species reinforcements. It’s possible, Jebaral. Being able to exist and live on this world just may be possible now.”

  “May I make a suggestion?” Mrs. Newburg broke in. Once she got their attention, she hugged herself and shivered. “It’s getting chilly standing out here in the middle of the woods at night.” She gave a nod toward the Ruinos males and gave them a one-sided smile. “And from the looks of things you’re feeling the cold as well. Why don’t we take this back to motel where I can get a pot of coffee going and you two boys can dress a bit warmer?”

  Hannah glanced down and noticed Mrs. Newburg was right. If the Ruinos anatomy reacted in the same way a human male’s did, the cold was definitely affecting their nether regions. Giggling, she gave her mate’s arm a tug and they left the small clearing as the last wisps of smoke rose invisibly into the night sky.

  Chapter 27

  Beering

  “You’re shorter,” Hannah said to the man who walked by her to get another cup of coffee.

  “But I’m still the handsomer one.” Simon grinned at her.

  Taking in the man’s undeniable devastating good looks, she threw her eyes back at Jeb, then back to Simon again. “But you’re still shorter,” she stated. She didn’t argue the fact the man looked like a Greek god, but she still preferred her dark-haired, dark-eyed lover hands down.

  They were sitting in Wendy Newburg’s living room behind the motel office. For everyone’s benefit Simon and Jeb had morphed back into their human guises and both were now wearing a pair of jeans. Although they remained bare-chested and barefoot, Hannah wasn’t about to object over the view. Snuggling up next to her mate, she breathed in more of his fresh, piney scent.

  “Hard to tell you two are brothers,” Mrs. Newburg commented. “You look nothing alike.”

  “Are we supposed to?” Jeb teased. “Maybe you didn’t catch us when we were Ruinos. Simon, let’s change so the good lady can take another long look.”

  Laughing, Mrs. Newburg held up a hand. “No, thank you. Give me a little while to get used to what you really are.”

  Sheriff Klotsky turned to where Simon was relaxing in the chair by the sofa. “You said you live in Templeton?”

  “Yeah. I work construction jobs, mostly. High-rises and office buildings.”

  “You know you’re welcome to move to Tumbril Harbor.”

  “No, thank you. I like city life. Less stressful,” he emphasized with a waggle of his eyebrows at his brother and life mate.

  “How long you plan to stay?” Mrs. Newburg inquired.

  “Until the wedding,” Jeb broke in. He gave Hannah a squeeze around the waist. “Whenever Hannah decides what she wants.”

  “Oh, I’ve had that figured out for a while now. I don’t want anything fancy. Just you and me and a couple of witnesses in front of the justice of the peace.”

  He gave her a cautious look. “Are you sure, Hannah? I thought you wanted something a little more elaborate.”

  “Why? No, let’s save our money for a place of our own. You know, I like the sheriff’s idea that we stay here where there’s safety in numbers. And, Jeb … now that he knows all about you, that’s one worry we don’t have to deal with.”

  “How many of you did you say landed here?” Klotsky asked.

  Simon answered, “There were thirty-one of us originally. There were over two hundred of us on the ship when we broke free. We have no idea if any of the other escape pods made it to a habitable planet.” He gave a helpless shrug. “There’s thirty of us now. Maybe less. With all of us scattered as we are, it’s a wonder any of us managed to connect. Or stay in touch.”

  “Well, if you’re looking for a place to put down roots,” Mrs. Newburg commented, “I know of about twenty-eight acres for sale just outside of town.”

  Klotsky looked over at her. “You’re talking about that parcel right outside Beering, ain’tcha?”

  “Beering?” Jeb repeated. “You mean the game preserve?”

  Hannah perked up. “What preserve?”

  Throwing a thumb over his shoulder, the sheriff explained, “Beering Game Preserve. It’s part of the Flatlock National Forest just outside of town. Several thousand acres of government protected land.” He turned to Mrs. Newburg. “Is Sid still needing to sell?”

  “Last I heard he was.”

  “Why hasn’t he been able to sell it before now?” Hannah asked.

  “It’s undeveloped. Very much in the wilds, and it abuts right up next to the preserve. You can’t farm it, and you’d have to be a real nature lover to build a place on it. Most city folk who look out this way to buy property want something more accessible.” Klotsky gave the couple a slow smile. “Sounds like just the place for you, Jeb.”

  “I’ll call around tomorrow and see what I can find out,” Jeb promised. To Hannah he suggested, “And your job will be to get us an appointment with the justice of the peace.”

  Mrs. Newburg waved a hand. “There might be a bit of a problem there.”

  “How so?”

  “How are you gonna take a blood test? Unless you can change your blood like you change your, uhh, skin.”

  Hannah gave her mate a worried look. “She’s got a point. You can only change what you look like on the outside. Not what’s on the inside.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Klotsky told them as he rose from his chair with a grunt. “I’m sure I can find a vial of O positive somewhere. It’s time Mr. Jamison started making reparations for all the damage he’s done.” Giving Hannah a wink, he laid his mug on the coffee table and turned to Mrs. Newbur
g. “It’s been a night, Wendy. I’m going to turn in before it gets much later. Mr. Morr?” He held out a hand in Simon’s direction. They shook. “Been a pleasure to meet you. Don’t be a stranger around these parts, especially when things start going downhill again.”

  Simon laughed. “Don’t worry. Now that my brother has found his life partner, I have a feeling I’ll be making more pilgrimages to Tumbril Harbor.”

  Klotsky turned to Hannah, who had gotten to her feet to bid him goodnight. “Hannah.”

  She gave him a quick hug and bussed his cheek. “Thank you, Sheriff. For everything.”

  He eyed the gauze pad on the side of her face. “I’ll be seeing you around. Jeb?” The two men shook hands. Klotsky sighed loudly. “Remind me not to encounter you in some dark alley somewhere.”

  Jeb chuckled. “You know what they say, Sheriff. Looks aren’t anything.”

  “Everything!” Hannah giggled. “Looks aren’t everything!” She turned to where Mrs. Newburg was watching. “I’m still having a hard time believing Jeb and I have a chance at a future together.”

  “We’ll be turning in as well,” Jeb said. “Thanks for everything,” he added with a grin.

  “I don’t suppose you have an extra cabin I could rent for a few days?” Simon asked.

  Mrs. Newburg made an unladylike sound. “With the tourist season over? You can have your pick. Hold on a sec.” She disappeared inside the office and reentered the living room a moment later. “Here. Take number 10,” she said, tossing him the key. “We’ll talk payment in the morning.”

  The three of them walked back into the night in time to see Sheriff Klotsky drive away with a wave back at them. Hannah realized Jeb’s arm had never left her waist. It was both comforting and reassuring.

  “Well,” Simon began, scratching the side of his nose. “Guess I need to pull the bike over to the cabin. I’ll worry about cleaning it up tomorrow. Were you going to work in the morning?”

  “Yeah,” Jeb nodded.

  “I want to know if you’ll do something for me,” Hannah broke in, giving her almost brother-in-law a sweet smile.

  Simon noticed the sparkle in her eye. “Anything, Hannah. Just ask.”

  “I want you to change for me.”

  He glanced around in surprise. “Here? Now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanna see my blood line in your arm.” She grinned.

  “Any particular reason why?” he asked, curious.

  “Uh-huh. I want to know if you’re able to tell when Jeb and I are making love.”

  Simon glanced up to see his brother’s wide smile. “Welllll…”

  Hannah gasped, her eyes widening. “You can!” She gave him a hard shove in the chest.

  “Why would it bother you?” Jeb asked, nuzzling the side of her head. Her silky hair was beginning to tickle his bare shoulder when she leaned against him. In its own way it turned him on.

  “Aren’t there any secrets we’ll be able to keep?” she asked him.

  Jeb made a face. “Not until we get a place of our own. Hopefully like that acreage outside of Beering, or something like it. But until that happens Simon will just have to plug his ears … unless he moves to a cabin closer to the office.”

  At his insinuation, Hannah gave a little shriek of happiness. The two men laughed at her flushed face, and together they began walking toward the cabins located at the other end of the parking lot.

  “You know, Jeb, I’m so envious of you right now I could just split.”

  “Spit, Simon. The correct word is spit. Good golly, you’d think after five years you two would have the language down pat.”

  “Keep it up, t’korra. Language lessons aren’t the only kind I can get better at.”

  “You’re also decadent. Running around in the middle of the night in just your birthday suits. What am I going to do with you?”

  “You want me to show you now?”

  “I’ll take that as my cue, brother. Good night, Hannah. F’lis comorrn, Jebaral.”

  “F’lis comorrn, Simolif.”

  “Jeb, what does that mean?”

  “It says to sleep without fear.”

  “I like that. Fleas c’mornin’, Simolif.”

  “Now who needs language lessons!”

  “Good night, Simolif,” the couple chorused together, and threesome disappeared into their respective cabins.

  Overhead the full moon began to wane as it began its descent in the western sky. Tomorrow was a few hours away, but already it promised a future filled with more hope than despair and more possibilities than impossibilities.

  But it was their future and now their moon above their new world and their new home.

  And home was a place they had been waiting a very long time to find.

  Epilogue

  ‘Report.’

  ‘Three saleable parcels have been recovered from the third planet. Scouting parties are in agreement that only one of the escape pods managed to reach this system.’

  ‘How many more parcels are left to be captured?’

  ‘Twenty-five by last count. Two units perished soon after landing. One was unavoidably terminated by one of the scout ships.’

  ‘How soon before the rest can be recovered?’

  Transmission static.

  ‘Reply not received. Respond. How soon before the rest can be recovered?’

  ‘Timeline undeterminable.’

  ‘Explain.’

  ‘Two scout ships have yet to report in.’

  ‘What was their target area?’

  ‘Upper fourth quadrant.’

  ‘Have you sent in a recovery crew?’

  ‘Yes, but they were unsuccessful.’

  ‘So what you are telling us is we are missing four procurers.’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘That is unacceptable.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  ‘Do you need more troops?’

  ‘It would greatly help.’

  ‘Other than needing more procurers to aid in your search, do you anticipate any other difficulties in recovering the remaining parcels once they are located?’

  ‘No. None.’

  ‘Good. An additional platoon will be sent with the next shuttle. They should reach you within the second spacial month. We expect full recovery of all remaining parcels before the sixth tri-year. Will that be a problem?’

  Transmission static.

  ‘Reply not received. Respond. Will that be a problem?’

  ‘It is not anticipated as such. The parcels have been thoroughly dominated. They have no will to resist.’

  ‘Good. We will assemble a fresh platoon and send them out immediately. Keep us informed of your progress. We do not need to remind you of the importance of recovering all parcels. Buyers are getting impatient.’

  ‘Understood.’

  ‘Very good. Is there anything else we need to discuss or clarify?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘In that case, this transmission is ended.’

  ‘Acknowledged. Transmission ended.’

  Transmission static.

  Watch for Runner’s Moon: Tiron,

  Coming in December 2007, from Whiskey Creek Press Torrid

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Linda Mooney lives in a South Texas town about thirty minutes from the Gulf of Mexico. When she’s not writing, she’s a kindergarten teacher, wife, and mother of two (human boys, not aliens, although there are times that could be debatable.)

  You can reach Linda via email, through her web site at www.LindaMooney.com.

  For your reading pleasure, we invite you to visit our web bookstore

  WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

  www.whiskeycreekpress.com

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