Breathing Space

by S. J. Higbee

  “No – just the Withers,” Tend said, spitting the word out as if it were poison.

  I was startled at the angry contempt that swept across her face. A handful of moments ago, she’d seemed the soul of happiness as she howled with laughter. But as she glared across the room, I saw a harder, angrier version.

  “Must be wearing on the patience, having the Eaties alongside. There’s a bunch of stories of how you’re all slaved to serve their every whim.” I half expected her to explode with another bout of laughter.

  She didn’t. Her gaze rested on me thoughtfully, before sliding away into angry sadness which seemed to belong there. “No one’s riding to our rescue, though, are they?”

  Of course not! A bunch of real humans reckon you’re abominations who should be hunted down and exterminated in case you pollute our gene pool. Jessica clearly wasn’t a fan of the Dars.

  “Earthers won’t go up against the Eaties, not after they went and atomised Mercury,” Wynn added, feverishly drawing.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, feeling sick that such a sensitive creature was forced to serve the Eaties.

  Her sudden smile didn’t fool me. Now that I was looking for it, I could see the shadows in her eyes even as her mouth curved into a wide grin. “You mean it, don’t you?” She leaned across and drew a gentle finger across my forehead, murmuring “So weirdly white and smooth…” Then pulled away, talking in the matter of fact voice you’d use when discussing the weather, “If it’s any consolation, there’s not many of us who chafe against what’s gone down. Most of ‘em have swallowed the manure they been told by Thinks—ˮ She jerked suddenly, evidently hailed by some kind of aug. “And now Sped’s hollering as if I been sucked out’ve an airlock! I better go. Or he’ll be rampaging around and stirring up Thinks – who isn’t in the skippiest mood right now. Can’t think why! Stay shiny, smooth people!” And with that she scampered out of the door.

  “So how old d’you reckon she is?” asked Wynn, gazing after her and pausing in his sketching.

  “Not the faintest idea. She acts like a child one minute – and the next, she’s a mature woman doing a solid job of hiding what she’s really thinking. I’ve a hunch she isn’t the child, for what it’s worth.” I paused. “You been drawing her.”

  Wynn looked up at me. “That obvious?”

  “No, but I know how you work, remember.” We didn’t have all that much time together, but I always knew how much your art mattered. Unlike your farmer girlie.

  Wynn stood up and stretched as my stomach rumbled.

  “Don’t s’pose there’s a meal on its way to us, is there?”

  Wynn snorted. “Doubt it. Cerk brought the last one and I don’t reckon he’ll be breaking a sweat to see we’re fed and watered on time, given the mood he was in when he stormed out.”

  “Typical,” I sighed, trying to ignore the growing discomfort as my stomach’s grumbles were turning into a dull ache.

  “But you…” Wynn’s gaze sharpened, as he focused on me. “You were sick and haven’t eaten since we’ve been on board. Right.” He jumped up, reached the door in three strides and was suddenly gone.

  The room was more threatening without his presence. Plants had no business sprawling up and down walls, it seemed to me. I must have dozed off, because I opened my eyes when the door flaps swung inward. I opened my mouth in greeting. And froze. It wasn’t Wynn standing there in the doorway, holding a large bowl of something sizzling – it was Cheetshzay.

  Jessica wasn’t any happier to see him than I was. Whatever you do – don’t have food with him. There’s something complicated about sharing food in their culture – if you’re not careful, you’ll end up on the menu… Hence the slang term for them – Eaties. They’d eaten most of our First Contact team.

  I crouched on the bed, poised to make a run for it, even as the dregging Eatie turned and locked the door behind him.

  “There,” said an electrical, inhuman voice. As he turned around, I realised he had a translator box strapped to his neck, or where his neck would have been if he’d actually had one. Eaought heads are a continuation of their bodies.

  He approached the bed, holding the skillet of some kind of cooked meat in front of him. My mouth flooded with the smell as I tensed, waiting for his attack.

  Typically, he liked to talk about it first. “At last. I have you alone.” His large slit-like mouth gaped impossibly wide and curving black teeth punched through the ribbed maw with a sucking wet sound as each wicked incisor erupted amongst a small pool of mucus.

  I stared transfixed. We were always told at school that Eaties unsheathing their teeth was comparable to us shedding our clothes and having sex in front of an audience. Which could only mean one thing. After he’d gulped down his hot snack – I was destined to be the next course.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  I stared at the creature as it hulked across the room, those black curving teeth slithering into view as its mouth continued opening. Giving me a bowel-loosening view of the forest of black, backward-sloping spines erupting in the alien’s large gullet, accompanied by squelching sounds and pools of mucus. Cheetshzay shuddered and groaned – hardly a surprise. While being vile to witness, the process also looked extremely painful.

  “I have elected to bring you some sustenance,” the electronic voice chattered. “You must be hungry. Won’t you come and sit with me and dev-devour it?” The hitch sounded as if even a translator set on the highest Non-threat level couldn’t cope with the ravening anticipation in Cheetshzay’s actual wording.

  Stop proning around like some bedbound cripple and move! screamed Jessica.

  I rolled off the far side of the bed, swinging it back at Cheetshzay as hard as I could, while dropping onto the floor. A solid thud told me it connected had with his midriff. Not that it seemed to slow him up. I fought free of the bedsheets, scrabbling to get further away from those huge clawed feet.

  He’d come to a stop the other side of the bed, evidently savouring the notion of playing chase-the-pathetic-human around the room before he bit my head off. I could hear him crunching on the meat and bones, fast disappearing from the plate. Drosser.

  “Come and join me, little one.” The threat was unmistakeable.

  I bit down on a whimper of fear, all too conscious that I was a mere mouse to his lion, retreating in a crouching scramble to the far wall. The crushed-leaf smell helped allay my panic. Leastways I’ll die with the scent of home around me. I eased sideways across the greenery with some vague notion of staying away from the far corner of the room – and tripped. When I realised what it was I’d stubbed my toes against, I realised I didn’t have to die as cowering prey. My hand closed around my staff, where someone had helpfully propped it against the wall.

  “This is truly a delicious meal,” babbled the translator, as slurping noises demonstrated Cheetshzay’s enjoyment of the meat.

  Now. While he’s busy! howled Jessica.

  I crept around the bed, grateful that his appalling table manners covered my approach, until I was right behind him. The Eaoughts’ family jewels don’t dangle between their legs like ours. Far better protected, they’re tucked into the armpits of the second, smaller pair of arms. I’d noticed the guards and Cheetshzay on Home Turf had those arms firmly crossed.

  Now, though, that was the pair of arms holding the plate as he used his upper hands to rip the meat up, before cramming it into his maw. I held my breath and aimed carefully. I’ll only get one stab at this.

  And I lunged, throwing all my weight behind the staff as I gouged the end hard up into his armpit. I felt the lumpy softness squish pleasingly, as Cheetshzay surged upright – he’d been squatting on his haunches, a paltry five-foot-six high – and let loose a pain-filled roar.

  Meantime I snatched the staff back before it got trapped between his body and arm. And jabbed him in the face as he swung round towards me, unfortunately missing his eye which I’d been aiming for, as he got his hand up just in time to deflect my blow. How
ever I managed to spin away from his grasp and for what seemed like a long lightyear, I twirled the staff, keeping it moving out of Cheetshzay’s increasingly accurate grabs as he began to recover from my initial attack. Though I managed to land several blows – one across his cheekhole actually made him squawk – they did very little to slow him down, mostly bouncing off him. I’d hoped because he was built like a small flyer, he’d be slow. He wasn’t. Those arms whipped out in a blur and from trying to land blows to slow or damage him, far too soon I found myself desperately dodging his efforts to snatch the staff. All those hours balancejousting and drilling till my skin frayed finally paid off. I managed to duck, twist and jab as my muscle memory kicked in, boosted by my augs. But it was only ever going to end one way.

  For starters I was running on empty, so tired far too rapidly. It didn’t help that fighting naked meant that every slide along the floor collected yet more bruises and scuff marks. And as I rolled under the bed – again – to escape a lunging rush from the dregging alien, the wound across my back broke open. Not that I felt any pain, but became aware of the all-too-familiar warm stickiness trickling down my back along with the copper smell of blood.

  And when he at last managed to grab the staff, he twisted it out of my grasp with insulting ease and flung it away, before enfolding me in a rib-bending hold with both sets of arms.

  This is it – this is when I die! And I discovered that I fiercely didn’t want to. Not now. Not like this…

  Expecting the creature to rip my head off, I let out a howl of fury. “I curse you and your vile kind. May the abomination that is your species be wiped off the face of this and every other planet! May you find yourself devouring your own children as you die in agony!” I screamed at Cheetshzay in English, still struggling in the alien’s stone-hard grip as the rough fur and unnatural body heat radiating from the creature burned and abraded my skin.

  “Please desist…” the translation box babbled. “Please do not be perturbed. I come in peace.”

  “Yeah right!” I snapped back between gritted teeth, this time in Shinese. “Of course you did – popping your Eatie teeth out like that! We all know what that means…” I continued trying to squirm. Though it was only a token effort. I was completely winded and those four arms had me almost totally immobilised. I tried for a kick, but it was a paltry affair and only managed to painfully numb my heel.

  Which was when the door flew open. Cerk, Wynn, Tend and two more Dars rushed into the room, all shouting at once.

  “What’re you doing, Cheetshzay? Cos I have to say – this doesn’t look remotely like a peaceful discussion,” spluttered Cerk.

  “You let her go, right now, you dregging monster!” roared Wynn.

  “Pulped planets, Thinks! You gone and popped her open, again. She’s a bleeding mess! After all my work to zip her together, too,” huffed Tend.

  “You break her, Thinks, you’ll bring down a storm of trouble on our heads! Trust you to pick on the one Sap in the galaxy who actually matters,” grunted a hefty-looking Dar male.

  While the other one said nothing. Just folded his arms and shook his head.

  “All is well. Though it did not go according to plan,” announced the translator as Cheetshzay lifted me up in his four arms, cradling me as a mother would cradle an infant. Before dumping me back down onto the bed. It wasn’t all that soft, so being dropped onto it from some four feet above it thoroughly knocked the wind out of me, in addition to profoundly upsetting the wound on my back.

  For a while, I ceased caring about anything except trying to draw the next breath and not whimpering like a fresh-smacked toddler at the agony searing across my back. When I finally was able to suck air into my lungs and the flaring torment of my reopened wound had eased back down to merely hideously painful, it was to find that Tend had turned me onto my side and Wynn was busy tucking a sheet around my battered nakedness.

  Even in my sorry state, I noticed both Dar males were openly staring, to the extent that I snapped, “Seen enough, then?”

  “No. Not had many chances to see a naked Sap before. Get your mate to uncover you again, will you?” said the larger one.

  “Oh for sure,” I returned. “Just after you yank your bollocks off and start juggling with them.”

  Which had the Dars hooting with laughter.

  Cheetshzay broke off his gurgling conversation with Cerk and looked across at me, as the translator burbled, “Ah, yes. Testes. It seems she is much taken up with that part of the anatomy. Can I counsel that you desist perturbing her? She has, indeed, inflicted major damage on my reproductive organ to the extent that it will require medical attention before it is fully functioning. A great feat…”

  There was a sudden hush in the room as everyone stared at me with varying expressions of shock and incredulity. Though it was becoming increasingly difficult to pay attention to anything, except that I was feeling cold and very faint. Even Wynn leaning across the bed, holding my hand in his, and smoothing my sweaty hair away from my face with the other one wasn’t as thrilling as it should have been.

  “Lizzy? Hey, hang on…” his voice was fading as he seemed to be spiralling away into a series of black holes that were blossoming across my vision. When I fell into one.

  *

  I opened my eyes to find Wynn sitting by the bed – along with a strong sense of déjà vu.

  “We’ve been here before,” I croaked.

  “Oh no…” Wynn grinned, shaking his head. “Definitely not like this. You’re seriously Cheeseface’s favourite Sap these days. He didn’t turn Tend loose on you this time around to fix you up with whatever tech the Dars have scrabbled together – he had her use their topline skin-sealing kit to fix that back injury of yours. There isn’t so much as a mark, let alone a scar. And he also got that ulcer of yours zilched. It’s gone. Like it never was.” He leaned across and took my hand.

  I breathed in the sweet smell of his skin and basked in the touch of his work-roughened fingers, floating on a sea of contentment. He’s right. My stomach isn’t even twinging. “I’m hungry enough to eat my left foot.”

  Wynn’s grip tightened. “Hm. About that… Thing is – there’s a catch to being Cheeseface’s most admired Sap.”

  He’s wrong. We’ve definitely been here before… “There’s a solid shocker.”

  “Cheeseface’s version is that after I left the room, he came to visit bearing a Peace Offering. Which is a feast to share—ˮ

  “Hah! And we all know who was on the menu as dessert!” I snatched my hand away, feeling thoroughly put upon. “Which was why I ended up fighting for my life.”

  Wynn shrugged, his voice dragging with tiredness, “Fact is, no one can say for sure whether or not he intended to eat you – he claims that was never the case. Pointed out that he’d made a binding deal for you to return and investigate Sladen Waller’s murder and that deal obligates him as much as it does you in Eaought law. Apparently.” He leaned forward, his blue eyes burning. “But you fought him to a standstill. And he’s babbling about your fierceness, your bravery and sneaky strategy to anyone who’ll listen. Is full of what a worthy leader you are, despite your unimpressive appearance.”

  “So, what’s the catch?”

  Wynn took a breath. “He still wants to present you with a Peace Offering and share a meal with you.”

  “Nope. Not a chance. Mercury’d have to reform first before I’ll sit down at a table and watch that drosser sprout his nasty black teeth and crunch…” I was shaking.

  “Oh, Lizzy—ˮ He reached out once more for my hand.

  I’m not caving in to his pity – I’ve more pride than that! I snatched my hand away. “I’m fine. Just a bit hungry. And… I thought I was gonna die.”

  Wynn sighed. “Yeah. And if there was another way around this, I wouldn’t be trying to talk you into sitting down with the drosser. Not after the stunts he’s pulled. But Cerk reckons this is one last test. Reckons Cheeseface has heard that a fair number of Saps tend to fall apart
after combat. Whereas – apparently – Eaoughts are strengthened by each conflict and war they fight.” He hesitated. “For what it’s worth, Tend reckons Cheeseface is on the level. She’s never seen him so shaken up and was all but swinging from the ceiling with excitement at what you managed to pull off. So was Sped, who if he’s who I think he is, would be a really valuable ally.”

  “So you’re saying that Cerk reckons Cheeseface is counting on me ducking out’ve this meal because after the battle rush has faded, I’ll be too scared?”

  Wynn nodded.

  I closed my eyes as a string of curse words fell out’ve my mouth. Even Nanny Patel had been known to swear when the occasion demanded – and right now I reckoned the occasion deserved every vile word I could lay my tongue on. I flung back the sheets and jumped out of bed, my anger burning away the bed-weakness threatening to buckle my legs.

  Wynn gazed fixedly at my face, though this time around I’d been dressed in a soft, creamy undergarment that whispered against my skin. “They provided you with a clean robe.”

  “Prod them and their robes!” I bent down and retrieved the bag stowed under the swinging bed which was holding my P’s dress uniform. Light-headed with anger, I swayed slightly as I hauled it out.

  “Here. Let me help you.”

  It was unreal. Having the man I’d yearned for all these years so close. Easing my tunic on for me. Helping me fasten the collar and pulling straight the gold braiding crusting the edges of the sleeves and tunic. Ensuring the heavy epaulettes were lined up. I accepted his help, numbly wondering whether these were to be my last moments. If so, I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather be with. Unless it was an unarmed and defenceless Eddy lying at my feet, so I could finish him off and keep the family safe.

  “There,” he said, finally stepping back and looking me up and down. “You look every inch the warrior queen Cheeseface reckons you are. C’mon.” He rushed forward and opened the door.

  I was more than grateful for his steadying arm, his long legs effortlessly keeping pace with my slightly tottering marchstep. For starters, I hadn’t been out of my room. Not while conscious, anyhow. My assumption that all that greenery lining the walls in my room was a welcoming touch for the homesick human was wrong. The corridor was also lined with plants, with soil underfoot. I could even hear the droning of insects and caught the flicker of butterflies as we made our way in a snaking circle to wherever we were going.