7
–Theodora–
I eat some fruit and go back into the saucer. All the consoles open in the same way, except one that I just can’t get to swing out. Not that it matters much. I can’t possibly hope to understand how all these colored crystals work. But fixing the saucer and getting it to fly again is my only hope of ever leaving this hellhole.
Maybe if I just stare at these things long enough, it will become obvious what’s wrong and how to fix it. It might be less complex than it looks.
“And I don’t have to think about where I am,” I mutter to myself as I sit down cross-legged in front of a console. This one has light inside it, so I don’t need the smelly lamp. “Okay. One part at a time. So, that red cone-thing stretches all the way to the back, where it connects to the clear cylinder… and to that curved pipe-like thing… and toooo… that other thing…”
After an hour or so, I get up and flex my stiff limbs. I’m none the wiser. If anything, the alien tech just seems more chaotic and less comprehensible than before.
I press my palms to my eyes. My head hurts. The red cone, the cylinder, the whatever-it-is… none of it means anything. I’m not smart enough for this.
The light changes, and I look up. Kenz’ox is standing outside the open hatch, watching me with those intense eyes before he moves away.
My stomach twists. It’s not fear, exactly—just too muchawareness. He takes all my attention and keeps it, whatever he’s doing. I really can’t look away.
There’s a sucking feeling in my stomach. He’s the manliest creature I’ve ever been around. Sprisk was a little like that too, but he was so focused on Cora that nobody except her saw him as anything other than a helpful alien. But Kenz’ox… he’s focused onme. And that focus is so powerful that I almost forget where I am.
At the same time, he did invade my home without asking, and I’m painfully aware that he could evict me completely at any time. If he doesn’t want me here, he’s three times my size and he has a sword. But he’s given me no indication that he plans to do that. And when I anxiously glanced at his sword earlier, he misunderstood completely—offering to make one for me too. That’s not something you’d do for someone you intend to fight later.
He’s absolutely nothing like what I would have expected from a caveman alien. He’s thoughtful, active, caring, and articulate. Not at all the boorish type from Earth’s cartoons and jokes.The contrast between how he looks and how he acts is kind of stunning. In a really good way that I don’t want to think too much about.
When I step outside, shielding my eyes against the sun, I can feel him before I see him. The air seems to change pressure when he’s near, growing dense and charged.
“So quiet here,” I say. “Baby asleep?”“She’s the heaviest sleeper I know,” Kenz’ox says from the campfire. He’s cooking new skewers. “It’s the only chance I have to do some real work.”
I check on the mug I made. The clay is drying fine in the sun, and it may well be ready to fire tomorrow. “Must be hard, watch a baby in the jungle.”
“It’s hard,” he rumbles. “But everything is hard in the jungle. And keeping Aker’iz safe is the most important thing.”
I scan the edge of the jungle, still looking for Callie. “I thought only boy come from Lifegiver.”
“I thought so too. Everyone did. The Lifegivers had never made a girl. It never crossed our minds that it was possible. Then I lifted my son out, and it wasn’t a son. It was a daughter.”
I sit down at the pottery wheel. “The tribe not like it?”
“Everyone was stunned. Some said the Ancestors had blessed us, while others said it was an obvious curse. The shaman and chief were among those. Aker’iz was too different, they said. There had always been boys, never girls. No prophecy ever talked about a girl baby, only the Woman. It waswrong. And so it was decided that she should be set out in the jungle. To be eaten by a Big or taken by Foundlings.” Kenz’ox’s jaw clenches so hard I swear I can hear it creak.
“Because she was different?” I ask quietly. There’s a good chance he’s never told anyone about this, and his trust moves me. “Only for that?”
“Many things were different in the jungle,” he sighs. “They still are. There’s talk of women, there’s talk of Plood, there’s talk of the Darkness being on Xren right now. There are strange, white bulbs growing from the ground. The tribe didn’t like any of it. Aker’iz was another thing that was new and different. That was all. It was a test, the shaman said. A test of our faith and strength.”
He says something about ‘the Envoy’, but I don’t understand it. I just know that for some reason I don’t like the sounds of it.
I nod. “It bad to hear. Bad tribe.” I want to say something like ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ but my vocabulary isn’t quite there. Damn, what a horrific thing to experience for a new father.
He turns the skewers over the fire. “It was a good tribe until then, despite the small turf it has. But all the changes in the jungle… it was too much. Too much forthem. For the old tribesmen and for the chief. Not everyone agreed. That is often the case in a tribe, when the chief orders something. But he is the chief. And the shaman agreed with him, as did the elder council. The decision was made in secret, because they knew I would not allow it. So instead of telling me, they had six tribesmen surprise me one night, coming at me with swords drawn. The intention was to show me that no resistance was possible. They even talked soothingly to me, asking me to simply let her go. I would have the first use of the next available Lifegiver, they said. ‘Make a boy’, they said. ‘Make a warrior, not an abomination.’ It only made me furious.” There’s a brittle rawness in his words.
I have to quickly blink away tears. “Very bad tribe, wanting little baby to die.” I don’t want to dig too much in this, which is clearly such a sore topic for him. But I am curious about the details.
He stands up and stretches. “Well, they failed. And now Aker’iz is safe. What did the Plood ship say to you?”
I don’t follow. “Say to me?”
“You were in there for a long time, talking to it.”
“Oh. I was talking tome. Not the ship. Ship is broken. I want to make it so not broken. Talk only to me to not…” I don’t remember the word for crazy, so I circle my finger at my temple, fully aware that an alien won’t get that very Earth-y gesture..
