6. Bambi
BAMBI
It’s always fucking something here in Payton Place outer space.
I really shouldn’t be surprised that a planet-eating gelatinous goo is heading our way, though it’s almost too far-fetched to believe.
If Bikar hadn’t launched some sort of drone-looking thing to photograph the rest of the planet, I’m not sure he and the others would’ve been able to convince any of us humans.
However, the images of a sea of red Jello consuming plants, animals, and everything in between until nothing but macabre caricatures littered the planet’s surface made my stomach roll with nausea.
Shagar, ever the voice of reason, explained to us what The Scourge is, what it does, and how there is no known way to stop it once it’s infected a planet.
Our little oasis is the last untouched part of Deapra, and it’s rapidly shrinking.
Slavic resolutely informed us that time was of the essence, and ordered us to get the things we wanted as quickly as possible.
We’re supposed to gather in front of the rock compound before boarding the ships.
Packing up my room took less time than I anticipated, and really drives home that all my material possessions fit in one small bag.
Not that I’ve ever really had much…
Shrugging off my maudlin thoughts, I grab my backpack and turn to leave my room. But the sight filling my doorway has me stopping short immediately. Unease slides down my spine, and I take an involuntary step back. “He…hello, Murgul. Is there something I can help you with?”
Slowly he leans his head to the side and offers me a smile that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Taking another step back from him, I wet my lips, gather my courage, and try again.
“Is…is there something you need from me?”
A sharp shake of his head indicates a decisive no.
Puzzled, I hug my bag to me for comfort and look around my little room in confusion. “Then…why are you here?”
“My brother… he… will die… without you.”
My heart sinks. He, of all people, should be the last person pleading his brother’s case. “I know.”
Even though my voice is barely a whisper, it’s clear he heard me because his reply is decisive. “Bikar… is… many things, but… at… his… core. He is… good.”
He gestures to where I’m unconsciously tugging at the long sleeve of my shirt. “Whoever… made you… fear. Bikar… is not… like that. However, I understand… how… it… feels to be trapped. That… is… why you should… board. The. Shuttle.”
By the time he’s finished talking, Murgul is panting in pain, and even though he terrifies me, I don’t want him to suffer on my account. He’s never done anything untoward to me.
“Murgul, stop talking. I know it causes you an insane amount of pain. I’m going to make an educated guess that Bikar will be piloting the Zenith, and one of y’all is going to be on the shuttle, is that correct?”
He nods decisively.
“So, you’re offering me the ability to escape your brother, even though you know it’ll make him suffer that mating sickness?”
Another nod.
“And this is all because you empathize with me? Because you know what it’s like to be abused by another…?”
He pauses before slowly nodding again.
“Okay. So, who is piloting the shuttle? Or do you know?”
Murgul shrugs nonchalantly and shakes his head. This entire exchange is beyond my realm of comprehension, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. That’s for damn sure.
Peering at him from across the room, I offer him a tentative smile. “Thank you, Murgul. That means a lot. Aside from Heather, everyone else here acts like my mating with Bikar is a done deal. Especially y’all’s mother.”
I catch Murgul’s wince when I mention Shagar and her meddling. Which makes me wonder…
“Which ship is Shagar going to be on?”
Murgul’s mouth curls in a cat ate the canary grin before he grates out. “Zenith. Falon’s room. Atasha too.”
“Say less! Shuttle it is. Thank you so much, Murgul.”
Most of the pressure I’ve been under recently fades away at the knowledge that I’ll have some breathing room from Shagar, and more importantly, Bikar.
Murgul steps out of the doorway so I can hurry past him to meet up with Heather and let her know which vessel we need to be on.
In my urgency to not be late, I miss it when his face changes from empathetic conspirator to smug triumph.