Chapter 6
Three-Quarters Not Bad
Three moons!
The rest of the day, the idea filled her with two parts excitement and one part unease. As far as Nicole knew, she would be the first human to gaze at a moon not her own from a planet in another solar system. What if it wasn’t everything she built it up to be?
Oh, who was she kidding? There were three moons!
Krir looked at the tablet for the tenth time since they finished dinner, pushing his glasses along the bridge of his nose. He was kinda cute in exactly the way she liked, except for the scales and feathers. Finally—finally!—Krir put down the tablet and walked to the door.
“It is still hot out, so if you don’t feel well, we can come right back inside.”
She felt mostly fine. Tired, sure, a little sore, but the prospect of three moons banished the remaining aches and pains.
“Okay,” she said to appease him. At least he was being a gentleman, ensuring her comfort and safety.
He opened the door and stepped through, holding it for her.
She walked out into the strangely illuminated night.
It was almost as bright as day, and she had no trouble seeing.
Krir allowed the door to shut behind her and pressed a button on the side of the CHU.
A small compartment opened, and he removed two things that looked like camp chairs.
With a deft flick of his wrist, they unfolded—they were, in fact, camp chairs.
“Sit, please.”
See, a gentleman.
She sat and tipped her chin toward the sky. For a moment, she stopped breathing entirely. A supersized moon hung in the sky, flanked by two smaller ones. They reflected the orangey sunlight with a more golden glow than Earth’s moon.
Alien moons on an alien planet. She was the only human here, the only human to gaze up at these spectacular moons. Tears flowed over her cheeks, and she dashed them away.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered when she could finally breathe again.
“It is. I am always grateful I am a geologist and have the opportunity to visit other worlds. Each is special, each is beautiful. And someday I would love to visit yours.”
“It may not be possible.”
“In an infinite universe, all things are possible.”
She chuckled. He wasn’t wrong, but the likelihood they would randomly come across Earth was slim. She supposed the Qilffirans could convince the Giuk who abducted her to talk, if they could even find them, and the chances would increase.
They watched the moons cross the sky, the air growing cooler by the moment. Nicole pulled her knees close and wrapped her arms around them.
“Are you cold?” Krir asked.
“I’m fine.” The last thing she wanted to do was miss the show. The show only the two of them had the privilege of seeing.
The large primary moon set, and the stars finally peeked out.
“One of those is mine,” she murmured.
“I promise, Nicole, I will do everything I can to help you find your way home.”
She snuck a glance at the alien. The red-light lantern he’d brought out lit him from below like some movie monster. But he wasn’t a monster at all. He was gentle and smart. She liked him, trusted him, though it had only been two days. And he wasn’t half bad to look at.
They quickly fell into a routine. The days were filled with vocabulary lessons and categorizing rocks and attending to her healing body.
He had treated her wounds with some gizmo he called a regenerator, which left barely there scars on her feet and arm.
She asked about every single gadget she laid her hands on.
Krir patiently described all of them, demonstrating the ones he could.
“This?” She pulled out a cylinder about as long as her hand and a couple inches thick.
Krir glanced over. “Genetic modifier.”
“Wait, you can change your DNA?”
He listened to the translation and trilled a few notes. Nicole had learned this was his “what the fuck” sound when something the translator said didn’t make sense.
“DNA?”
Nicole chuckled. Not the first time she’d used a common expression the translator had no idea what to do with. It happened most with abbreviations and slang, which made sense. She rummaged through the depths of her memory and fished it out from her college bio class.
“Deoxyribonucleic acid. Humans are lazy, at least English speakers, and we shorten everything, so we use the initials DNA. It’s the genetic material in the cells.”
“Ah.” He laughed too. She liked his laugh, the musical chitters sent little shivers along her spine.
“The Qilffir have a natural ability to blend into the background. This modifier increases the ability, making it possible to change the genetic code to a certain extent. It allows me to mimic another species. The Qilffir Science Administration provides them for emergency purposes to all off-world scientists, but only exobiologists who study other sentient or near-sentient species regularly use them.”
“So, you could go to any planet looking like the native species? That is so cool!”
“I do not see what temperature has to do with it.”
“It’s interesting, Krir.”
“I know.”
“Ugh.” She shoved his shoulder gently while he chuffed his amusement.
They spent far too long misunderstanding each other while the translator was still trying and failing to learn English.
To be fair, English was weird. Laughter always followed when they finally understood and started communicating.
Krir often pretended to misunderstand. She imagined he did so to make her laugh.
Which was kind. And maybe it meant something else, too.
Their busy days turned into quiet nights.
Krir would read over the day’s measurements, his adorable glasses perched on his pointy nose.
Nicole would steal glances as she used the translator app to learn Qilffiran.
He was humanlike, with a strong jawline and high cheekbones.
Okay, he was three-quarters not bad to look at.
The main difference between their species was the feathers and the scales.
She still wasn’t sure about the feathers but could certainly live with the scales.
On the rare occasions she touched his skin, it was smooth like tiny pebbles but soft.
And when she did touch him, his scales shifted colors from his typical aqua to a deep green and a bright yellow.
Part of her wondered why. The rest of her was afraid to ask.
She slept like the dead, safe and warm for the first time in weeks.
The Giuk hadn’t allowed much rest. She’d gone to sleep on the ship physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted, and she woke up physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted.
And hungry to boot. The food was…fucking awful, slimy, nearly tasteless, and barely enough.
If she hadn’t escaped, she wouldn’t have been able to keep going much longer.
But Krir let her rest, fed her tasty if strange food, and answered all her questions about the plants on Vrul 4.
Until one night…
The stench of oil, mold, and waste filled the air. Nicole barely kept from gagging. Her footsteps echoed through the metal halls as the bolts on the deck panels cut into her feet, but still she ran. Despite the pain. Despite the fear. Despite the exhaustion.
She had a chance to escape or die trying, better than waiting for death to find her. It would, sooner rather than later, if she did nothing.
The ship lurched, and she slammed into the walls, twisting her ankle as she fought to stay on her feet. Her head hit a support beam, and she saw stars for a moment. Blood dripped down her face and added a tang of copper and iron to the foul odors surrounding her.
Heavier footsteps rang out behind her, and voices shouted, closer and closer until a hand grabbed her shoulder and she screamed…
Nicole sat up, and her forehead hit a hard object that grunted. Krir clutched his nose, a drop of greenish blood dripping out. She clapped a hand over her mouth.
“I am so, so sorry,” she muttered, glancing around for anything to give him to clean up.
He looked at her, eyes glittering oddly in the low light. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand.
“You were shouting as you slept.” Krir rose and went to the sink to wash.
“I had a bad dream.” Nicole rubbed her head where it had smacked Krir.
“What is a dream?” In the mirror, the scales on his chest and neck shifted from aqua to a yellow green.
“Um, it’s your brain telling stories while you sleep. Some scientists believe it’s how our subconscious minds process the day’s events. It’s supposed to help with long-term memories, I think.”
“Ah, I see. Our spiritual leaders go into a state that gives them visions from the ancestors, or so they say. But the Qilffir do not do it naturally, and I have never dreamed. So this was a bad dream? Do you have good dreams?”
“Sometimes. I haven’t dreamed a lot since…you know. It’s a special kind of sleep when the dreams happen, and not my area of expertise.”
“Do you wish to talk about your bad dream?” He sat on the end of the bed, his voice soft and full of concern.
Nicole shook her head, then remembered Krir wouldn’t understand. From what he’d told her, they used trills and sometimes pheromones for yes and no, not gestures.
“No. I really, really don’t.”
“Hmm. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?”
She bit her lip and stared at her hands folded in her lap. There was, but was she brave enough to ask?
“Please tell me. I want to help.”
When she looked up, all she saw was the person who’d become her friend these last few days.
He’d taken care of her when she was hurt, taught her about himself and his people, kept her busy helping him.
It wasn’t in her nature to request help but to be the person offering it to those in need.
Her job, her family, her friends. And she’d been relatively lucky until the Giuk came into her life.
She hadn’t needed help, at least not often and not much.
But she needed help now. She needed a friend.
“Can you…hold me?”
Krir smiled and his scales flushed a darker green for an instant. A blush of sorts.
“I’d be honored.”
“This…this isn’t significant to your people, is it? Humans, well, we’re social creatures, and most people want and need friendly touch from friends and family on a regular basis. But if it means something different for you—”
He placed his fingers over her lips and scooted closer.
“Touch means many things to the Qilffir. The love of a parent for their child. A child’s love for their parent or siblings.
The rough touches of athletic competitions or play among adolescents and children.
Embraces of friends. The soft touches of lovers.
It seems perhaps your people and mine are not so different when it comes to touch. ”
Krir draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in.
Nicole rested her head on his chest and listened to the beat of his heart and the air moving in his lungs.
Was his heart in the same place as hers?
The color rippled from Krir’s usual aqua to green to yellow to blue as she traced lazy circles over where his heartbeat seemed strongest, a little higher and more central than a human’s.
“Thank you.” Nicole released the tension of the dream and closed her eyes.
His other hand stroked her hair, and she breathed in his spicy, earthy scent as she drifted into a state of peace.
She could learn to live with the feathers.