While Marc manages the winged men, I put my hand on the opening mechanism of Sarc-11 which is still orange, but Ferdinand's survival is engaged.
The sarcophagus slides open without a sound. I put my hand on Greg and shake him gently.
“Greg, you need to wake up. The Proud crashed into an unknown world. Almost everyone died, I'm sorry. Your injuries were severe and you were unconscious. We rescued a regeneration sarcophagus and put you in it. You’re not fully recovered, I'm sorry, but right now we have to put Ferdinand in there, he is seriously injured. We will go into details later, but you should know that this planet is inhabited and that the first contact with these winged creatures was difficult. Get up slowly, I will inspect your wounds while Marc and David take care of Ferdinand.”
Mark and David tear the arrows out of Ferdinand's chest, place him in the sarcophagus without delay, and close the lid.
Now we just have to wait. Ferdinand's fate is no longer in our hands. I turn to my other patient; I inspect the lacerations that Gregory made during the fall of the Proud. They are perfectly closed and fresh to the touch. This is a sign that there is no infection. No swelling either, the scar tissue is consistent with a recent injury. His scars are red but will turn white with time.
A sudden movement in my field of vision makes me raise my head. I meet Nixx's shadowy gaze. His annoyed look questions me. Ha, it's clear to me that Sarc-11's technology must not seem comprehensible to him! I'll try something.
I grab a small branch from the ground and place it along my arm.
“You see, when one is broken,” I show him the twig supposed to represent my arm and by folding it in two, “one puts it in Sarc-11 and hope Sarc-11 repairs by rectifying the twig.”
Well, I don't know if he understood anything, but I never excelled at Time's Up[2]anyway! But despite the poverty of my explanations, he seems to be happy with it.
I inspect the winged men as they try to communicate with our men. They are Erians. There are four of them.
Jaxx, about One meter eighty of muscle, wings, mocha eyes and hair, darker wing edges.
Kurr, of similar size, wings, eyes, and hair icy brown and two long black spots on the wing tips.
Lokk, at least one meter ninety, eyes, hair, and plumage dark chocolate.
They are all men of exceptional build, elegantly muscled, well-proportioned, and in perfect physical condition.
And then Nixx. Who in addition to his dream physique, has amazing eyes, and incredible charisma. This guy breathes chiefdom from all his pores. Or should I say from all his feathers? What kind of world have we landed on?
Come on girl, stop drooling. This is not the time for that.
I then watch the men who have come from these two different worlds, making a raft made of branches, to put the bodies of Yannis and Yohan on it and cremate them on the sea. We of course respect the funeral customs of the world where we go.
The men place the finished raft on the shore and respectfully position the twins on it. There is something strange about seeing these men from two different worlds working in silence for this ceremony.
Marc speaks first.
“Yannis, Yohan, we, your colleagues on board the Proud, we who have known and appreciated you, are here together. For each of us, you have been more than colleagues, you have been friends. Over the weeks, months, and years on board, your duo has brought cheerfulness and playfulness to the Proud. And God knows how it has lightened the often-tense atmosphere on board. You survived a crash, but unfortunately had the misfortune to fall under incomprehensible blows. But we will continue the mission, our mission. We are here to bid you farewell and pay you this last tribute.”
David, Gregory, Eva, and I each add a little word, regarding the twins who, as Marc pointed out, brought a lot of levity to the Proud, bickering regularly as two brothers can.
As we finish, we are about to set the raft on fire. But Nixx steps forward and also says a few words that we don't understand.
Then the one called Lokk, followed by Jaxx, and Kurr. This better than any speech reassures us of a possible peaceful cohabitation with the Erians.
Marc sets the raft on fire and we watch in silence as it drifts out to sea and the flames rise to the heavens. Then I return to Eva who is still downcast from the violence of what happened earlier.
I take out the protein packets and distribute them to my colleagues, without worrying about the appetite of the Erians, who must know well how to feed themselves. We eat our bags without saying anything, listening as much as possible to the exchanges between the four Erians.
We have already acquired some basic words at this point. But we still don't understand the content of their discussions.
I grab the water purifier and a large canteen and fill them with seawater. When I get up, I am surprised to see the crushing Nixx beside me.
“You mustn't drink that, it's bad,” he says, showing me the water in my canteen.
Instead, he grabs a small flask made of some kind of bamboo that was tied to his back. He takes a sip and then hands it to me.
Oh my God! Really girl? Are you going to put your lips on the flask of the dark Nixx? On the very spot where he put his sculptural mouth? Ha! He's just afraid you'll get poisoned. How nice of him.
