“Bri, do you still have your translator?” Tai asks without taking his eyes off the herd.
“I think so.”
“You might want to grab it. You’re going to need it. We found the Sabaaki. Rather, they found us.”
My hands shake as I fish the tiny square patch out of my bag and stick it behind my ear. I’m excited and nervous about meeting the Sabaaki.
They can’t possibly be as bad as the brethren.
Did I just jinx us? Shit.
Tai packs up our tents with short jerky movements. The downcast expression on his face combined with the rounded shoulders is not what I expected to see. This is good news! We found the Sabaaki before we were baked alive by the desert sun.
A tall, slender alien guiding the h’axom steps out from around the dune and crouches down in a defensive stance when they see us. Its long legs bend at the knees, ready to run at the first sign of danger. Thin arms spread out ready to deflect an attack. The color of its hairless body shifts to match the sand. The only clothing is a small pair of tight shorts.
The large egg-shaped head with round unblinking eyes resembles an old caricature—from a time long ago when aliens were figments of human imaginations.
“Hello! We are trying to find our way home. Can you bring us to whoever rules here?” Tai says in universal language. The translator works with a slight delay, passing along the message in Sabaaki.
I laugh despite the tension. Did he really just say “take me to your leader”?
The irony is completely lost on Tai, and he shoots me a death stare that says, “Pull it together.”
The Sabaaki replies in a language made mostly of vowels. “Who are you?” They slowly rise to their full height. The translator echoes in my ear with a slight delay.
“I’m Tai. This is Bri. We crashed here and have been trying to get home to j’Tilak,” Tai answers for both of us.
“That one is not a Tilak,” the stranger says, pointing their long, thin finger at me.
“She’s human, but she lives on j’Tilak now,” Tai clarifies.
I tuck away the little spark of happiness that flares up when Tai refers to j’Tilak as my home.
“My name is Eio'sh,” he says, placing his hand over his chest.
I’m flooded with relief. A name. Finally. Not some weird collective identity that hinges around worshiping me.
“Can you help us get home?” I ask.
“I might know someone who can,” he says. “It appears your h’axom cares for you greatly.”
Over the course of the short conversation, Daisy wrapped her trunk protectively around my waist. I give her a pat to reassure her that I’m safe.
“Thank you so much. We’ll take any help we can get.” I peel Daisy off me and shoo her toward the herd. She happily joins the group and prances around with an agility I didn’t know h’axom were capable of.
“Come with me. Perhaps my elder, Maia’el, can help,” Eio'sh says. He whistles one long note, and the herd follows obediently, including Daisy who miraculously keeps up.
The Sabaaki’s steps are deceptively fast. Tai and I have to hurry to catch up. Our translators make up for the language difference, but I can tell there is a lot unsaid between us and our new friend.
Still not fully recovered from the traumatic events of the brethren and desperate to avoid conflict with another alien species, I decide to make Eio'sh my new best friend whether he likes it or not.
I spend the next few hours telling him what happened after we crashed on Sabaak. Tai interjects here and there to correct me when Iexaggerate for dramatic effect, totally ruining the entertainment value of the story. Other than that, he’s completely silent. Eio'sh is appropriately shocked by the presence and behavior of the brethren. Another reassuring sign that we aren’t walking into another shitshow.
We take breaks throughout the morning to let the h’axom graze. Eio'sh slowly warms up and eventually tells us about himself.
“I am the head shepherd in our town,” he says proudly. At least I think he’s proud. His face is expressionless and the tone of his voice never changes inflection.
“You have an impressive herd,” Tai says.
