Chapter 7
Chapter seven
The color drained from the woman’s face, alarming him.
Was she hurt? Ill? She looked ill.
He did not know how to fix an anomaly if they became ill.
Perhaps The Four had sent the wrong person for this job.
Instinctively, he reached with his mind, past the storm that continually rumbled around them, searching for those who would know better than him, who knew human anatomy and had medical expertise.
His mind swept outward, farther and farther, then encountered… nothing.
Alone.
He kept forgetting how alone he was.
A sickening sensation invaded his chest and stomach. He did not like that his was the loudest voice in his head.
It had started soon after leaving Sector Ten, a yawning discomfort, an endless silence when constant chatter filled most of his life.
An off-balance prickling developed over his skin. He did not like that either.
“No, you didn’t,” the woman, Doctor Wynn Lambdin, whispered.
He reeled his mind and thoughts back into himself as a wave of something crashed over him.
He could not name it, but it had been bombarding him ever since he had arrived.
All he knew was that it came from her, and it repelled and drew him at the same time.
He studied her from head to toe. Her clothes hugged her curves, a white shirt that covered her arms, and tan slacks that fell straight.
But her feet were bare, and his gaze focused there for a moment.
Had he ever noticed someone’s feet before? He could not recall.
Lifting his gaze to her face, he examined her features: her pink lips, her flushed cheeks, and how her eyes, so different from his own, flashed with fire.
What created that fire? He wanted to learn.
Then he realized her quiet words were in response to his statement.
Her denial did not change his purpose, so he repeated, “I have come to collect you.”
The words physically hurt his vocal cords as they strained with disuse.
He tried to recall the last time he spoke aloud, but a muddle of images and unwanted sensations cascaded through his body, followed by an unfamiliar ache in his stomach.
He abandoned the task before the images and sensations could dominate his mind.
Another wash of something surged toward him and crashed over his head and body while the woman’s visible distress grew. Her hands clenched and released at her sides.
He often searched for words, but out here he was alone. So alone. The ones who had been human longer that him did not supply him with ready answers. His own internal voice was now the loudest.
But he needed to help her somehow. He took a step forward. That something continued to grow, more potent now. She screeched, jumping backward.
“Stay away!” she shouted, the sound assaulting his eardrums.
Never had he experienced such loud sounds coming from an adult. A newborn, yes, their shrill noises something he always avoided, but not a fully grown person.
The sound stayed his movements, freezing his feet in place.
She scurried backward to the end of the hallway until her back hit the opening to the next room and she stopped. A deep breath shuddered through her body.
He had walked this way earlier, knew it was the place where she prepared her meals.
A small, slender window ran the length of the room above the counters and cupboards, revealing a glimpse of the world outside.
The storm raged, one to which he had no comparison. Its violence mesmerized.
As soon as he could rise from his slumber, he had sought it out, staring endlessly into its churning ferocity.
It transfixed him as much as the woman who regarded him with the most dynamic expressions he had ever seen on someone’s face.
Her life force pulsed just below the surface, separated and untouchable, but there.
Again, he attempted to connect with her psyche, but there was no joining of minds, only the vast emptiness of alone.
The lack of communication, the absence of a bond, created a sweeping sensation through his body, one that settled uncomfortably in his stomach.
No wonder The Four had avoided this. A confined, singular existence made little sense.
A strange scent enveloped this place, sterile but also green. It was not unpleasant, but so very different from where he came from, and contrasted with the arid scents he had experienced before it rained.
A louder crack of thunder resounded overhead.
Doctor Wynn Lambdin jerked, her knees looking like they would buckle beneath her.
He stepped forward again, to help her regain her balance, but a small, distressed sound emerged from her throat, stopping him.
“Can’t you put on some damn clothes?” she shouted, the shrillness slapping at him differently than the sounds of the storm. That something flowed toward him again, an invisible wave amongst visible ones, just as vexing as when he had arrived.
His gaze returned to the compartment behind him and the items it held.
Her white suit intrigued him.
He had not understood the usefulness of such a garment, as it would impede his ability to stretch his senses into the world around him, but after the natural defenses of this planet relentlessly attacked him, he agreed with its benefits, at least for long durations within the hostile elements.
But it was his nudity she referred to.
He turned and strode to where she had thrown his clothing. One boot lay on its side, the other stood upright.
He bent over and grabbed the top of his pants with his fingers.
A small sound emerged from the woman behind him, and he straightened to regard her.
She had not moved, but the color that had leached from her face earlier had returned in force, her cheeks bright red as she stared at him.
Another wave of something followed in its wake.
This something tasted different, a headier, hotter flavor coating his mind.
While he tried to decipher the sensation, she jerked her chin forward, to the garment he held in his hand.
The gesture urged him to continue the task, though if he lingered on the thought, he did not understand why he knew that.
His gaze shifted to his hands. With a flick of his wrists, he shook out the rumpled material, lifted his foot, and pulled the pant leg up his calf.
He did the same with the other, all the while keeping his awareness of Doctor Wynn Lambdin open.
Once he had fastened his pants, he pulled his shirt over his head. A softer something washed toward him, more comforting than not.
He picked up his jacket and laid it over the edge of the compartment next to her outerwear, then slid his feet into his boots. He left his gloves where they lay beside the long weapon at the bottom of the compartment.
While his back was turned, Doctor Wynn Lambdin shifted a little, pushing off the wall in small increments.
He refocused on her with a tilt of his head.
She froze, her breaths accelerating, echoed by the quick rise and fall of her chest.
That more toxic, abrasive, something pulsed toward him.
She stood that way for a very long time, one foot braced forward, the other back. Then she shifted, transferring her weight to her front foot.
Perhaps she thought that if she moved slowly, he would not notice.
That would not be possible.
Since coming to this place, he had noticed everything about her.
How she was both so similar and so foreign.
How she drew him, but that something pushed him away.
His mind reached into the memories of the past, where he did not tread often, searching for the thing that would explain the something that changed so steadily on the heels of her actions.
Emotions. That was what kept washing over him, distracting him in unpredictable ways.
He had experienced many unnamed emotions since he had arrived, most sharp and stinging, but others soft and giving.
Those were the ones he liked best.
Her kindness. She had braved the elements to assist him when this world had waged its battle against his natural defenses. She had shouldered his weight despite the strain to her body.
Her apology. The pain he had experienced affected her, though she was not the cause.
Her sadness. She had thought she could not help him, though she did so anyway.
There was more sadness, but something deeper that welled upward in a continuous flood.
It weighed her down, and that made him… feel as well. And he was not sure what to think about that.
Beneath her skin and bones, her heart beat a quick rhythm in her chest, almost frantic. It was unlike those he was used to spending time with, their steady presence similar to his own.
Thunder cracked above him. It startled her enough to jump, though the lightning and rain had been constant since the sun rose.
The sun. Another oddity.
This was the closest he’d been to the star in a long time.
While in space above the planet, it had bombarded him with unhelpful radiation, but it had been breath-catching to see up close. More so than he would have thought.
He turned his head to track its progress through the clouds, noting how much time had passed since he had lain inside the automated life pod that had brought him here.
As soon as his focus shifted, Doctor Wynn Lambdin darted through the kitchen to the living area, light and quiet on her feet.
He tipped his head, his gaze focusing in her direction.
This building was laid out in a circle of sorts, and he adjusted his eyes off the visible spectrum to follow her path through the walls.
She tapped at her terminal, then cursed under her breath, giving it a punch before shaking out her hand. Then she was lifting and moving items on the work surface as she searched for something.
He followed her, curious about her purpose.
A gasp of satisfaction left her lips when she found an item. She glanced over her shoulder, like she could see thermal signatures through walls like him, though he knew she could not.
Perhaps The Four had been wrong about that.
But her eyes went to the door of the living area, not where he walked through the kitchen.
She tapped at the terminal, her hands shaky. A soft beep, beeping carried through the building between the rumbles of thunder outside.