Redemption Song

by Henry A. Burns

  She heard an oddly gentle grunting and hooting and then silence. It was another minute before Small Snow Flower opened her eyes. The entranceway was again blocked, and the room was dark. I still live, she thought in relief. Not that she thought she was safe. For all she knew, the creature had been fooled by her bluff and was waiting for her to fall asleep.

  But you were asleep, she reminded herself. It could have killed you then. She slowly lowered her arms and retracted her claws. Her eyes had adapted more to the gloom of her surroundings, and she began to take in more details. Wherever she was, it was bare save for a large boxlike construction against one flat wall and the soft pallet she had been lying on.

  As Small Snow Flower slowly stood and walked over to the pallet, her eyes kept darting toward the blocked exit. She considered putting on her ship boots but instead padded over to the exit and pressed her ear against the flat barrier. She could hear the creature as it moved around. “What do I do?” she asked herself. “Spirits, weep for me,” she chirped as visions of being eaten alive invaded her overactive imagination.

  It wasn’t an unreasonable fear. The Rynn had encountered three technologically advanced life-forms in their two hundred years of exploration, and two of the three considered Rynn to be nothing more than food. The Rynn weren’t sure about the third, as they had become more cautious about contacting other species after their earlier experiences.

  Small Snow Flower huddled in the corner of the strange boxlike room. I won’t cry, I won’t, she told herself, even as tears ran down her cheeks. Stop it, she commanded herself. You may no longer have your ship, but you are still Bright Sunlight’s daughter.

  She raised her head and looked at the panel covering the exit. Spirits protect me, but if I am going to die, then I want to die on my feet. She stood and walked over to the exit. The panel was made of some brownish substance that Small Snow Flower suspected was vegetable in nature. She noticed a round knob and tried to turn it. At first it didn’t budge, but then she tried turning it in a different direction and the knob turned smoothly. She pulled on the panel and it opened.

  Small Snow Flower peeked out into a brightly lit room. She blinked several times as her eyes adjusted before taking a tentative step out. At first she didn’t see the creature, but the musky scent from earlier became more pronounced.

  She swallowed as she realized the creature was perched on a wide fabric-covered structure no more than a handful of strides away. She straightened. “If you’re going to kill me, do it now and get it over with,” she chirped in false bravado.

  The creature tilted its massive head in response but did nothing else. To Small Snow Flower, the lack of activity was almost painful. “Well?” she chirped angrily as the silence stretched out.

  The creature’s mouth turned up at the corners and then it hooted. The sound reminded Small Snow Flower somehow of laughter. The creature stood.

  “Spirits protect me,” Small Snow Flower trilled in shock and fear as the full height of the creature became apparent. Her crest extended to its fullest. Small Snow Flower was tall for a Rynn, yet she doubted the top of her head would reach the creature’s absurdly wide shoulders. Small Snow Flower fought the urge to run back into the other room.

  The creature raised one massive hand and pointed to a round construction near what seemed to be a table. The round construction was covered in a pad and looked, to Small Snow Flower, to be a smallish kip. The creature barked softly and pointed to the object again. “I’ll stand,” Small Snow Flower said defiantly.

  The creature tilted its massive head again and then rocked its head up and down. On a Rynn, this would have been a nod of agreement. It turned, walked through a doorway, and returned several minutes later carrying a tray with a large transparent container and two smaller ones. The large container appeared to hold a colorless liquid. The creature placed the tray on the low table and gestured with one large paw.

  Spirits, is it offering me water? Small Snow Flower thought in disbelief. Among the Rynn, offering water unasked was considered one of the three blessings that the First Teacher had set down thousands of Rynn years before. “The spirits bless those who, unasked, offer food, water, and clothing or shelter and require nothing in return,” she had said. “From these simple courtesies, all great works begin.”

  Small Snow Flower looked at the creature, covered her eyes with her hands for a second, and then lifted the large container. It took both of her hands. She carefully poured the clear liquid into the each of the smaller containers, picked up one of the smaller containers, and waited. The creature hooted softly and picked up the second. The creature deliberately drank first and drained the small vessel of liquid. It lowered the container and waited.

  “You do realize, our metabolisms are probably not the same,” Small Snow Flower couldn’t help remarking. She raised the container and drank. The water was cool and sweet. In the back of her mind, she realized she was probably exposing herself to a number of pathogens, but she was really too dehydrated to care. Besides, I’m dead anyway. Her crest drooped. Or will be soon enough.

  The creature hooted and grunted to get Small Snow Flower’s attention. It patted its stomach and pointed to its mouth and then at Small Snow Flower. For a brief terrifying moment, Small Snow Flower interpreted the creature’s motions to indicate that she was about to be eaten. Then the creature stood again and walked into the connecting room. When it returned, it had another tray. This one had bowls containing various substances.

  I think that’s food. She swallowed and nodded. The second of the three blessings. She covered her eyes for a second and then looked at the bowls. The creature obviously had tried to give a wide sampling of different foodstuffs. Spirits, I wish I had my Torque. Several of the bowls contained what appeared to be animal proteins. Others contained various vegetable items. So, they are omnivores, just like the Rynn.

  As she sampled the different food items, she again realized she was probably ingesting pathogens and toxins. If she had her Torque, she’d know for certain if she could even metabolize the food. Not that I have much choice.

  Most of the food was somewhat bland. One white chunk had a texture that made her spit it out in disgust, and one she approached cautiously. It was orange/red in color, and on her home world, any vegetable of that color would invariably be spicy. Like most Rynn, Small Snow Flower liked spicy foods, but as part of a meal—not as the meal itself.

  She cautiously nibbled off a very small amount and was surprised when the vegetable was sweet instead of spicy. A larger bite revealed that the vegetable was crunchy as well as sweet. “This is very good,” she chirped. There were only a couple pieces of the orange vegetable, and she held up one of the remaining pieces and looked inquiringly at the creature. The creature rumbled a grunt in response.

  “Krit?” Small Snow Flower repeated.

  “Kurrut,” repeated the creature.

  “Kurrut,” echoed Small Snow Flower. “I think I like kurrut very much,” she added.

  The creature hooted and again walked into the adjoining room, returning a few minutes later with a bowl filled with “kurrut.” It wasn’t until she was leaning back in the kip-shaped platform and sipping the last of the water that she realized she had, indeed, sat down. It was a bit of a shock to further realize that she no longer feared being eaten. She didn’t think she was safe, but that particular threat no longer seemed probable.

  For the first time, she looked, really looked, at her monstrous host. The creature was huge, true, but even that no longer felt threatening. It’s amazing how similarly we are constructed, she mused. Two arms, two legs, two eyes, two ears. She chirped in amusement, Assuming those great flaps are ears. She took another sip of water. But, spirits weep! That can’t be its nose, can it? Rynn noses were small, almost nonexistent, and barely rose above the plane of their faces.

  Oddly, except for its size, the creature’s mouth was the most normal looking th
ing. The most unusual feature, outside the oversized nose, were the white filaments, thickest over its eyes and the top of its head, that covered the exposed parts of its body. Yet despite the differences, there was one thing she was sure of. It’s definitely a male, she thought. Why she thought that she wasn’t sure, but she was certain it was true.

  While she wouldn’t have minded some more of the “kurruts,” another need was making itself known. Spirits weep, how do I get it to understand this? she squirmed in discomfort. She looked at the creature and noticed it had tilted its head again and was looking at her. “What?” she chirped.

  The creature stood and beckoned with one massive hand. Despite her growing conviction that the creature didn’t plan on eating her, she still was going to be cautious in dealing with it. Even so, she stood and followed the creature. It led her to another blocked passageway, opened the barrier, and pointed. Easing cautiously past the creature, she looked into the room. Her crest fluttered in both surprise and agitation. It looks like a sanitary, she thought. But how did it know? She briefly covered her eyes and entered the room. The creature closed the entrance behind her.

  Small Snow Flower panicked for a second and then realized that the creature was giving her privacy. She looked around and found what she took to be an elimination system and lifted the lid. She squawked in annoyance. I’ll fall into that, she told herself.

  There was a soft rapping on the barrier. After a moment, the barrier opened, and the creature walked in carrying a construction. It walked over to the elimination system and placed the construction over the opening. The construction had its own opening. The creature turned to Small Snow Flower and raised one filament-covered strip over an eye.

  Small Snow Flower blinked. The construction made the sanitary usable. She nodded, and the creature left and closed the door behind it. But how did it know? she asked herself. The Rynn had stories of people being born with unusual mental gifts: making things move, starting fires, and reading minds. Only the most gullible took such stories seriously, yet …

  He, it, he … Small Snow Flower thought. He somehow knew I needed water and food and a sanitary and … and privacy. She shook her head. Either he reads minds, or … She looked at the closed entranceway. Or his species is way more perceptive than the Rynn. Both options were disturbing.

  Pondering the latest puzzle presented by the creature would have to wait until after Small Snow Flower finished using the sanitary. For a primitive system, it was remarkably efficient. Small Snow Flower looked around and noticed a large freestanding trough against the wall. She walked over to it. “That can’t be anything other than a bath,” she chirped in recognition. After a little experimentation, she figured out how to fill it with warm water. “I still may die, but at least I’m going to be clean,” she declared.

  Small Snow Flower removed her ship’s uniform and grimaced when she realized how dirty it had become. She debated washing it first, but the warm water looked inviting, and she quickly removed the rest of her clothing. Soon she was neck deep in warm water. They may be primitives, but they’re sophisticated primitives, she thought and lay back against the side of the trough.

  She must have fallen asleep and slid down too far, because the next thing she knew, she had inhaled a lungful of water. She squawked in panic as she flailed around in the trough. Before she could recover, she found herself being pulled out of the trough by the creature.

  Being so close to the creature temporarily paralyzed Small Snow Flower with fear. Is this it? she thought. But instead of killing her, the creature quickly wrapped her in a large square of fabric. The creature hooted at her for a moment. For the first time, she found herself looking directly into the eyes of the creature.

  Whether it was the loss of her core, the loss of her ship, or just fear held back too long, something broke inside Small Snow Flower and tears began to flow. “Why?” she trilled in despair. “Spirits help me, why is this happening to me?” Her trills became a pitiful piping. “I can’t … alone. No core … no family … alone.” She started beating her fists against the creature’s broad chest. “Kill me, why won’t you kill me?” she screamed. In response, the creature just held on to her tighter and started crooning soothingly.

  Small Snow Flower buried her face against the creature’s broad chest and wept. She barely felt the creature stand with her in his arms. He carried her into another room, placed her on a soft pad, and covered her with a thick blanket. Small Snow Flower rolled away and curled into a ball. The creature continued to croon soothingly and rubbed the small of her back. Small Snow Flower’s chirps of distress slowly faded as sleep overcame her.

  When the little alien finally fell asleep, Jeremy Blunt stood and left the bedroom. Why he had put her in his bedroom and his bed he wasn’t sure, but he trusted his instincts. He always had. He walked out of the cabin, sat down on his favorite chair on the porch, and lit a cigarette. He smoked the cigarette silently and then, when it had burned down, lit another from the stub.

  He looked at the night sky. “She cried, Mei,” he informed the dark. “I don’t know who that bastard was that abandoned her here, but he couldn’t have been crueler.” He took an angry drag on the cigarette. “The poor thing is scared out of her mind,” he declared. “And trying not to show it.” He shook his head. “And failing.” He took another drag. “I must look like a monster to her.” He exhaled a plume of smoke. “For all I know, she may think I’m keeping her alive because I like my meat fresh,” he said moodily. “I know I’d think that.”

  Jeremy finished the cigarette and carefully stubbed it out. He stood and had to catch himself as a wave of dizziness threatened. “Shit!” he grumbled. “I can’t die yet.” He gasped angrily and inhaled deeply. “Not yet.” He took another deep breath, and the dizziness passed. “Better,” he muttered. An owl hooted from the surrounding woods. “Why me, of course,” the old man said and laughed. It was an old joke and something he and his long-dead wife would say every time an owl hooted.

  He walked back into his cabin and brewed himself a cup of tea. He would have preferred coffee, but he intended to sleep at some point that night. He was just finishing his tea when he heard his bedroom door open. The alien walked out with a blanket wrapped around her body.

  Jeremy pointed to the other chair and then went and made a second cup of tea for the alien. He waited until the alien sat before leaving the kitchen. He returned several minutes later carrying a bundle.

  The alien was sitting and sipping the tea. From the expression on the alien’s face and the rippling of its feathery crest, he surmised that the alien found the tea enjoyable. He walked slowly back toward the alien and made some soothing sounds in the hope that she wouldn’t get frightened. The little alien tracked him with her eyes but continued to sip her tea.

  Jeremy placed the bundle on the table between him and the alien girl and pointed to it. “Some of Mei Lin’s clothes,” Jeremy smiled. “She was almost as tiny as you.” He sat down and picked up his cooling tea.

  The alien girl looked at the bundle, and her crest trembled.

  “It’s just clothing,” Jeremy said quietly. The alien girl put down the cup and picked up the top item on the bundle. She shook it out to reveal it was a large t-shirt with a dragon on the front. “Mei Lin used to wear those as pajamas.” Jeremy said.

  The alien looked at the shirt and then looked at Jeremy. She pulled the shirt under the blanket and then looked at Jeremy again. “Oh yeah, right,” Jeremy said quietly and turned away from the little alien. He heard some rustling and then the alien chirped and twittered. “I’m going to assume that means you’re decent,” he quipped and turned around to face the alien again.

  The alien girl had put on the T-shirt and was looking at him. “That looks good on you,” he said. He pointed to the rest of the clothing. “Feel free to wear any of those,” he said. “I think Mei Lin would approve.”

  The little alien’s crest flut
tered, and then she covered her eyes briefly and chirped and whistled. “You’re welcome,” Jeremy replied and repeated the eye-covering gesture. The alien chirped in response.

  Jeremy could see that the alien’s crest was no longer shivering. “And you don’t have your claws out,” he noted. He pressed his hand against his chest. “Jeremy Blunt,” he said. He pointed to the alien. “And you are?”

  The alien stared at him blankly. Jeremy pressed his hand against his chest again and repeated his name. He gestured at the alien.

  He was about to repeat the whole thing again when the alien’s crest rose. “Germyblunkt,” chirped the alien. Then it pressed a hand against its chest and trilled.

  “Kasumer-chirrr-chirp?” Jeremy pursed his lips and tried to repeat the whistles at the end. The alien repeated the trill. “No, I don’t think so,” he said after trying again. Jeremy raised a finger. “I know.” He again tried to repeat the alien’s name and pointed to his mouth. He shook his head. “I hope you understand that means no,” he muttered then pressed a hand against his chest. “Jeremy.” He pointed to the alien. “Kasumi.” He repeated that several times.

  The little alien stared at him for a long time and then its crest rose again. She pointed to Jeremy. “Germy.” She pressed a hand against her chest. “Kasumi.”

  “Tell you what, if you’re willing to be called Kasumi,” he said in good humor, “the least I can do is be called Germy.” He sat back. “Hello, Kasumi,” he said.

  “Helu, Germy,” the alien replied.

  The princess walked through the shining city. She did not look left. She did not look right. She did not look down. All made way for the princess.

  The princess came upon the Temple of Light. “Open for the princess,” she commanded, but the doors remained closed. “Open for the princess,” she demanded, but still the doors remained closed.

  Angrily, the princess was about to turn from the door when she spied an old monk sweeping the steps. “Monk,” the princess said in a cold voice. “Why are the doors closed? I am the princess, and all doors open for me.”