I shove onto my feet with trembling legs.No idea where I am or why my suit’s failing.
A glow flickers between two standing stones—a slit of blue light in the dark.
I stumble toward it, squeezing through the narrow gap into a cavern mouth.Artificial ionospec light pulses faintly inside.Relief hits me so hard my knees buckle.
Someone’s here.Maybe my team moved me.Whether they did or not, I’m safe.I want to cry with relief, even while I ignore the questions clawing at the back of my mind.
Wrong soil, wrong sky.Air first, then answers.
The alarm continues screaming like a metal band gone berserk as I collapse to my knees.
A shadow moves, and a figure rises from the cave floor—a towering Volderen male muscled like carved stone.“Pasen!”His voice lashes out, harsh and guttural.“Mirt nari!”
The room spins.My lungs burn.I gasp, reaching for him.“N-need…air.”
He strides closer.His face twists in disgust.Black irises blaze as they sweep me from head to toe.That color of eyes isn’t common for Volderens.The curved horns on his forehead are as white as bone.
“No,” he growls, gripping my shoulder with brutal strength.He hauls me toward the opening like I weigh nothing.“I do not know how you found me, but the High Council should know better than to trick me with a pathetic human.”
Rocks scrape my shoulders and hips as he drags me across the ground.My boots carve desperate lines in the dust.
“Please…” My voice fractures as black dots bloom in my vision.“Please…d-don’t let me die.”
He doesn’t answer.Or doesn’t care.The world narrows to pain and cold and the rasp of my own breath until everything turns black.
A smell—sweet with a hint of spice—flows into my nose.It reminds me of Sunday mornings with my brothers, when our dad cooked orange chocolate chip pancakes.The memory, sharp and bittersweet, jolts me awake faster than a cup of Volderen synthcaff.
I’m lying on a low, soft bed.My suit lays deflated across the back of a chair.I’m breathing normal oxygen, then.
The Volderen, kneeling next to me, holds my wrist in one of his humongous hands and uses a scanner pen’s light over my forearm, sealing up several abrasions.
I yank my arm away, but he doesn’t let go.“What are you doing?”I guess he had a change of heart and decided to let me live?
“The only reason you are here is because I could not stand listening to that alarm.Your…suit…is charging.”His cold, hard eyes bore into me.
I swallow and nod, looking down at my clothes.Nothing’s been disturbed, so at least he didn’t try to molest me.I can’t tell if he’s annoyed or grumpy because I’m alive.Maybe both.
A muscle in his jaw ticks.“I saved you not because I care, understand?It is just that incessant noise interfered with my concentration.I should have left you to die.”
Maybe he means to offend me with his words and tone, but I’m not.“I’m glad you didn’t.Th-thank you.”
I try to sit up, but one look from his angry gaze makes me rethink the motion.
He cuts his attention back to my forearm, scanning the bones of my wrist.
“It’s fine, I think.Nothing broken.”I twist my hand back and forth.
He lets out a grunt, then runs the scanner over my chest, his outstretched arm drawing my attention.
He wears a tunic-style short sleeve shirt, common with Volderens, if they even wear a shirt at all.Peeking below his shoulder’s hem, the bare flesh of his pale green skin seems darker, as if scarred in the past.My gaze travels to his bicep, and the barest hint of blue light glows beneath, tracing a highway downward.The crease of his elbow reveals three smooth circles of metal, and further inspection of his fingers reveals the tips of metal.
It's a cybernetic arm!
The technology to create this, to seamlessly integrate with his nervous system, must be extraordinary, even for these advanced aliens.
I reach out to touch it, for a moment forgetting where I’m at.
He flinches and jerks backward.
