Oh, great. I was already being lulled into a false sense of security by the predator.
“My tentacles are sensitive to vibrations and changes in temperature, among other things,” Zat’tor explained. “I did not realize humans are ectothermic. If you are cold, I will warm you.”
I blinked. “Ecto...?”
“In layman’s terms, ectothermic means cold-blooded, like reptiles,” Jaeyoung explained behind me.
Part of me wondered why my crewmates were still here. They weren’t tied up or bound in any way, not even by one of Zat’tor’s tentacles like me. They could’ve easily run away, but I supposed there was nowhere for them to go. Either that or theyreallywanted to become plant food with me.
Zat’tor leaned in, his scaly brow furrowed in concern. His tentacle tightened around my shoulder. “Come closer to my chest,” he urged. “I do not want you to freeze.”
My cheeks burned as the wriggly limb squeezed around me. It kind of felt like getting a massage, but that wasn’t the point. I didn’twantto hug Zat’tor. I think.
“W-wait, there’s been a misunderstanding,” I said, holding up my hands. “I’m not cold. And I’m not ectothermic. I’m warm-blooded.”
“Then why do you shiver?” he asked. As he spoke, I saw the glint of his sharp teeth again.
I sighed. Now I had to give an alien a physiology lesson. This should’ve been the doctor’s job, not mine.
“Humans shiver when they’re cold, but also when they’re... anxious,” I admitted.
Zat’tor sounded startled. “You are anxious? Why?”
There was no use dancing around the point.
“Aren’t you going to eat me?” I blurted out. “As in, consume, devour? Use my flesh as food?”
Zat’tor laughed. At least, he made a sound thatseemedlike a human laugh. For all I knew, it might’ve been a cry of rage in the Maeleon language.
Suddenly, I felt the fleshy ‘hand’ of Zat’tor’s tentacle on top of my head. He patted me like a dog.
“No, Levi,” Zat’tor said as if I’d been silly. He continued walking with me in tow. “Why do you think that?”
I coughed as his tentacle ruffled my hair. “Well, your teeth are sharp. On our home planet, fangs usually indicate a creature eats flesh.”
Zat’tor inclined his head curiously, like he’d never heard of the concept. “Maeleons use our fangs for eating fruit, and for vigorous intercourse.”
Paz choked behind us. Meanwhile, my jaw dropped. That was not the answer I expected.
Trying to keep my composure, I asked, “So, you...dohave intercourse.”
Zat’tor brightened. “Yes. Plenty of it, with the right partner, or partners.”
Partners?I thought. For some reason, I got stuck on that word. I was never into sharing, and I didn’t like imagining Zat’tor doing it either. Not that it was any of my goddamn business what an alien did with other aliens.
“Ah. For procreation or fun?” I asked.
“Both,” Zat’tor replied cheerily. The sex discussion certainly put a pep in his step. Was he imagining it right now?
And if he was, withwho?
I stomped down the emerging worm of jealousy. What the hell did I have to be jealous about? Zat’tor wasn’t my boyfriend—he was an alien leading me to my death.
“We have arrived,” Zat’tor announced.
I’d been so preoccupied with the sex talk that I hadn’t noticed the village in front of us. My eyes widened in awe. It was straight out of a children’s fairy tale. Each dwelling unit was made of vines thicker than a steel beam, twisting together like woven rattan furniture. A pond stood at the center of the village, sparkling in the sunlight.
It hadn’t occurred to me until now that Eukaria was full of water. It had to be to support all the plant life.
