Chapter 20
Leigh
After a rather long shower, in which we may or may not have, um, forgotten to use a zi’in , T’raat and I ventured out of our quarters in search of something to eat. I didn’t know about my new fiancé, but I was absolutely ravenous after the day we’d had. I made T’raat promise not to tell anyone our good news just yet. John’s death was too fresh for Marcus, too raw of a wound, and I didn’t want to rub his nose in our happiness.
Of course, if our matching mile-wide grins were any indication, I figured everyone would guess eventually.
H’rran was the only member of our tiny crew in the galley when we arrived. I wondered who was flying the ship, but then I thought about it and theorized that the Xalanites probably had some kind of automatic navigation system in place. I was sure H’rran wouldn’t leave us without a pilot in the middle of space.
“You are both luminous,” she said as we walked in. “Glowing is the human term, yes?”
Busted. “Um, yeah. I guess.”
She flashed an iridescent white grin. “Do not worry. Mating after a brush with death is common to both species, as I understand it. Although, perhaps I should restock the ship’s supply of zi’in once we arrive on Xalan. It would be prudent.”
T’raat and I exchanged a guilty glance, but we didn’t fess up. Instead, I cleared my throat and asked her to suggest something good from the galley.
“Oh, yes! We have much to choose from. Fried jek , freeze-dried xirt , and fresh ssolp that I caught myself before I left Xalan.”
My appetite shrunk as I listened to the menu. I didn’t know what any of that stuff was, let alone if it might be edible for my species. So much had happened in the past few hours that we hadn’t taken the time to inject me with nanites. H’rran’s words were just gibberish to me, and not at all conducive to helping me decide on what to try to eat.
The Xalanite woman must have mistaken my change in expression, because she added, “Do not worry. The ssolp has been kept refrigerated for safety. If properly prepared, it will not poison you.”
Yeah. Great. So, I still didn’t know if it was a meat or a vegetable, but hey, no poison.
I tugged on T’raat’s sleeve and whispered in his ear. “What sounds good? Is any of that something with protein?”
He briefly looked confused before his eyes widened with understanding, and it was his turn to clear his throat.
“Ahem. Apologies, H’rran, but I have just remembered that I need to change the dressing on my wound. I have saturated it in the shower facilities, and I should take care of that in the medical bay prior to eating. Please excuse us.”
Taking my arm, he led me to the med bay. I sat on a cot while he rifled through a bunch of drawers and cabinets in search of something. After about twenty minutes, he let out a yelp of triumph and held up a small metal device. It looked almost like a dart gun, and the sight of it sent my nerves into overdrive. Did he have to shoot me to inject the nanites? Couldn’t he, like, stick a nice, safe needle in a vein and be done with it?
“I-is that, like, some kind of hypodermic injector?” I asked, pointing at the gun with a shaky hand.
T’raat looked at the wicked thing like he didn’t understand my apprehension. “Hypodermic? No, nanites are not injected like that. They must go to the brain stem to be most effective at translation.”
“You’re going to shoot me in the brain?!”
My shout echoed in the small suite of rooms. T’raat took a reflexive step back, and if I hadn’t been so scared for myself, I would have laughed at the fact that my big, brawny warrior was frightened enough to back away from me.
“It is how they are administered,” he said quietly.
I took a deep breath to calm myself before I spoke again. “But you’re going to shoot me. In my brain.”
“Yes …”
Love made people do crazier things, I supposed. Were microscopic machines in my brain stem any worse than, say, a tattoo of a lover’s name? At least I was getting a new language out of the deal.
Sighing with resignation, I turned around and gathered my hair into a loose bun, wrapping it around itself so it was out of the way of the inevitable.
“Do it.”
I closed my eyes and waited.
There was a small, quiet pop , a strange pinch at the base of my skull, and … nothing. No actual pain. No splattering of my brains on the opposite wall. Just a weird buzzing sensation.
“These nanites will work both ways,” T’raat said as I rubbed the spot where the pinch was strongest. “They will translate Xalanite into English for you, and they will help you translate English to Xalanite, should you need it.”
“Are there different kinds of nanites?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Yes. Some are multifunctional, like the ones that aid H’rran and me in flying Xalanite ships. Some, like the ones the human Amber received when the first Xalanite arrived on Earth, are much more basic, and they only translate in one direction. In Amber’s case, her initial nanites did not translate Xalanite for her. They merely gave her language, her knowledge of English, to Q’on, her mate.” He paused, and his tone grew wistful. “Q’on shared her language through the nanite network later, allowing most Xalanites to communicate with humans in your tongue.”
I waited for Xalanite words to start running through my head, but nothing happened. Did I get a faulty batch of nanites?
“T’raat, say something in Xalanite. I want to try them out.”
He took my hands in his and stared into my eyes. As he spoke, the words appeared in my mind a fraction of a second later, like the slight delay when a translator is working on live TV.
“Leigh, twin to my hearts, my love, my everything, you are the first being to make my hearts this happy. I had hoped to meet a mate on Earth, but I had never dreamed that I could experience such joy from a single event. Nothing in the galaxy could have prepared me for this life with you, and nothing in this galaxy or any other could ever surpass the love that I feel for you.”
For being the first Xalanite words I ever fully understood, T’raat picked some good ones.
Not only did the nanites directly translate the words, they also gave me some contextual hints and clues, as well as the occasional visual image. When T’raat said the Xalanite word for Earth, I saw my home planet in my mind, hovering in my vision like a hologram.
The best part, I think, was understanding the meaning of the word tyr’il for the first time. More than mate, more than partner. Soulmate might be the closest English word for it, but even that wasn’t quite strong enough to convey the sheer love and deep connection in tyr’il . It was definitely my new favorite word in either language.
“Ssolp,” I said, picking a word that I knew I didn’t know the meaning of to test the nanites further. An image of a long, slender creature with shimmering scales, long, flowing fins and an ethereal tail appeared in my mind, and I suddenly understood. I beamed with delight as I looked at T’raat and chirped, “It’s a fish!”
He cocked his head at the English name I used. “Yes. An aquatic beast. That is quite close.”
Clapping my hands in excitement, I hopped off the cot and took T’raat’s hand. “C’mon! I want to go get some food now that I know what I’ll be eating.”
H’rran was still puttering in the galley when we got back, cooking what I now recognized as ssolp on a heated metal plate similar to a skillet. I trotted up to her and said, “Is there enough fish for us all? I am famished.”
She blinked in surprise before a wide grin spread her lips. “Yes. I will prepare more.”
I walked over to a dining table and sat, patting the chair next to me for T’raat. “Sit, my tyr’il. Join me.”
He turned the chair around and straddled it, resting his arms on the back of the seat. The glimmer of joy in his yellow eyes and the intensity of his gaze made me blush. “What is so fascinating?” I asked.
“You are like a child with a new toy. It is endearing to watch.”
For a moment, my feelings were hurt. I couldn’t help but be excited. I hadn’t ever learned another language before. The Wisconsin public school system had failed me there, but now? Now … he was right. I was as giddy as a little kid with a new plaything. I should have been grateful he chose “endearing” instead of another adjective.
“Is it too much?” I asked, switching to English. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, stroking my cheek with a scaled hand. “I am glad that knowing my language gives you such joy.”
Moments later, Aunt Ann came storming into the galley, her face red clear up to her hairline. I wondered what had made her so angry, but before I could ask—in English or Xalanite—she plopped down in a chair on T’raat’s other side and started speaking the alien language.
“T’raat, I must speak with you. X’nit has woken, and the news he brings is grave.”
I leaned over to see her around my fiancé. “What is wrong?” I asked, slipping into Xalanite without even realizing it until Ann’s eyes grew wide. She slowly turned back to T’raat, and if looks could kill, she’d have made me a widow before my wedding day.
“Did you shoot my niece in the head?”