“Because they’ll want to test me and I don’t want the general to think he can make an army of super soldiers by what he finds from that testing,” Jace answered, still rubbing circular motions on his temples.
He was shocked when Khoth took over for him, massaging his head. He gasped as the pain retreated almost immediate as Khoth seemed to know exactly where to touch on his head to release the pressure.
“Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop,” Jace begged.
“I did this for my sister. She often had headaches,” Khoth said then clamped his lips shut as if afraid more would come out.
His sister was killed by the Khul, Gehenna informed Jace. He was exiled here because he went into a Khul ship to--to help her the only way one can help a prisoner of the Khul.
You mean he had to kill his own sister? Jace gasped.
Yes, Gehenna’s voice was filled with sadness.
“Can an arm of super soldiers be made?” Khoth asked quietly.
There is only one Pilot, the Osiris whispered.
“No,” Jace said with a shake of his head that brought more pain and dislodged Khoth’s hands. But thankfully the Thaf’ell Commander continued the petting. “For better or worse, it’s just me.”
“Just you? From everything I have seen of you, Jace Parker, we should all be grateful you are the Pilot,” Khoth told him.
A stab of guilt went through him. “Even after what I said about not helping the Alliance?”
Khoth nodded. “I have thought about what I said. To ask you to abandon humanity is not fair. It is not realistic that you could justify letting your whole race potentially be destroyed to save other races.”
“The Khul will come back here. They’ll take revenge on humanity, if nothing else,” Jace said.
“They likely would,” Khoth nodded again.
“So… what do we do about it?” Jace asked.
“First, we end the suffering of those in the Khul ships,” Khoth stated. “And then… we find a compromise.”
Junk Food
Khoth watched Jace drink water. Jace drank and drank and drank until the bottle was dry. He lowered it and wiped his mouth with the back of his right hand. Khoth took the empty bottle from him.
“More, please,” Jace said. “I didn’t know I was so thirsty.”
“Indeed.” Khoth gave Jace another bottle which Jace cracked open and downed in two swallows this time. A third bottle was soon in hand.
Khoth glanced at all of the food and drink that Thammah had been able to find. It wasn’t an auspicious selection. There was some old looking fruit, bags of “chips” with different “flavors” like “ranch”--which Khoth had thought was a type of home on this world--, not to mention long sticks of a meat-like substance in a plastic material, something called “Ho Ho’s” and varieties of hard, sticky substances with names like “Jolly Ranchers”.
When Thammah had dumped the armful of “food” and the case of water down on the nearby table, Khoth had looked at it skeptically. Thammah had blued.
“What?! It’s all I had in my locker!” Thammah had answered. “It’s good!”
Khoth’s lips had pursed. “I believe some protein paste would be--”
“Space paste?” Thammah had laughed as she’d used the derogatory term for the perfect mixture of nutrients on every starship. “I had Jack try some of that. It was not a good outcome.”
“It is perfectly acceptable for human biology,” Khoth answered crisply. “It has all the nutrients--”
“He vomited, Khoth. Profusely,” Thammah interrupted. “And even after his stomach was empty, he continued to retch. It was a bad time.”
“Can I have a Slim Jim?” Jace asked after another swallow of water, which brought Khoth out of his thoughts but not away from the food.
Khoth picked up the meat-like substance formed into a stick shape. There was a dark red oil surrounding the stick that stained the plastic. He turned to the ingredient list and began to read. Every ingredient had his frown deepening.
