Chapter 8 #2
I turn toward the sound. Lucius comes buzzing through the membrane entrance, followed by the lobster, who keeps up on the ground.
The little drone hovers in place as though nearly getting ejected into vacuum is an ordinary afternoon activity.
Behind him, the lobster watches the scene with eyes on stalks.
Relief washes through me so strongly that I almost laugh. "Lucius."
"Captain Ellis," the drone replies. "I am pleased to report that you remain alive despite your ongoing commitment to catastrophic decision-making."
I give him an angry glance. "You watched that happen."
"No, Captain. I made a diversion for these people, so that you could escape. I didn’t know you’d go outside, but I gathered from the general talk that you had done exactly that."
The giant alien says something sharp and points directly at the drone.
Lucius immediately turns toward him and answers in the alien language.
Everything stops.
The giant alien freezes. The lobster freezes. I feel my stomach drop as I stare between them.
The alien points at Lucius again. Lucius points his manipulator at himself.
A rapid exchange follows. Neither side sounds happy, but they are unmistakably communicating. The metal lobster begins clicking her claws together with obvious delight while I try to process what I'm hearing.
Finally I manage to find my voice. "Lucius?"
The drone rotates toward me. "Good news. I have achieved partial translation."
For a second I think I might hug him. "You can understand him?"
"Only fragments," Lucius says. "His language is not as complicated as it may sound. I understand enough to confirm that he is currently explaining how profoundly irresponsible your actions were."
The giant alien growls another sentence and jabs a claw toward the membrane behind us.
Lucius pauses to listen. "He would also like it noted that he nearly died retrieving you. I take this to mean that getting back in was a low-percentage thing. Because he can plainly exist in a vacuum much better than you can. But likely not for long periods."
My eyes lift to the enormous male still holding me upright. Up close, I can see the damage on his armor and the tension running through his entire body. Whatever it took to chase me into vacuum and bring me back, it clearly wasn't effortless.
Guilt arrives a moment later. He did save me, and he absolutely didn’t have to. "All right. Tell him I'm sorry. And thank him."
Lucius turns toward the alien and delivers a short reply. The answer comes instantly.
Lucius hesitates.
That hesitation worries me. "What?"
"He doesn't appear interested in your apology."
I look from the drone to the giant alien. The alien is still staring at me, still holding me against his chest, and still very obviously angry. Well, there’s not much I can do right now, except maybe explain.
I point toward the wall behind us. "Tell him his ship tried to kill me."
Lucius translates. The locust answers immediately, his antennae twitching with obvious irritation.
"He says the ship removed an intruder from a restricted area. He means you. You’re the intruder."
I glare at the drone, who arguably forced me to run when he made those distractions. "Yes, I got that part. But I didn’t intrude. I just wanted to see the ship."
Lucius translates again. The locust responds with a growl and several sharp gestures. The lobster begins clicking its claws together as if amused before Lucius relays the answer.
"He says the ship will defend itself if it must. You did intrude into those rooms. He forbids you from doing it again."
"Well, I… didn’t mean to." I don’t know what else to say. I’d prefer the locust to think that I’m just dangerously curious, not trying to escape.
That seems to end the conversation anyway.
The locust takes his arm off me and checks if I can stand by myself.
My lungs and ears still ache. Every breath reminds me of the vacuum.
Every so often the memory returns without warning, and my stomach tightens.
The image of endless stars and open space keeps forcing its way back into my thoughts.
Then another realization pushes everything else aside. I slowly straighten and look at Lucius. "I want to ask him something. First, what is his name? And tell him mine."
Lucius makes many sounds in the locust language, and the locus replies with his deep voice.
“He’s Krix’vorr,” Lucius says. “There’s a title too, but I can’t translate it yet. I’m still learning the words here. Did you have more questions?”
I don’t have to think long about it. “Am I the first of my kind he’s found? Or that others have found?”
Lucius translates and gets his answer.
“Not to his knowledge. As far as I can understand, he says that he hopes not. I can’t be sure about that part, though.”
Several Earth scouts have been missing, and it’s just possible that some of them were rescued like me. Including Sophia. “Can he find out?”
The process takes some time. Krix’vorr asks Lucius several sharp-sounding questions before he gives a reply.
In the meantime, a servant creature comes in and hands two flowers to Krix’vorr, then bows deeply and scurries away.
“He might be able to,” the drone translates. “But if others of your kind are missing in the minefield, it’s likely because they’re dead. You’re lucky Krix’vorr was there. Anything else?”
“What will he do with us? We want to be returned to our planet.”
“I sincerely warn you against that line of inquiry, Captain,” Lucius says quickly. “We want him to know as little as possible about Earth. But I will ask what his intentions are.”
Krix’vorr replies, with a bit of amusement.
“Ah. He says he will return you to your people. So he wants to know where it is. Exactly where it is, he says. Again I strongly suggest not entertaining any ideas in that direction. He plainly knows that Earth lies beyond the minefield, but that won’t help him that much. It’s a big space beyond it.”
I suppose that was inevitable. When Krix’vorr saw me try to escape, promising to take me home was the obvious next move.
“Should I pretend not to understand when he asks me?”
“Use any method to stall. Tell him as little as you can. The fate of Earth and all of mankind may be at stake.”
Yeah. That was starting to become clear to me, too. The refugees flash through my mind. The stories. The harvested worlds. The civilizations that disappeared. Billions of people who have no idea creatures like this exist.
It’s as if a big weight was placed on my shoulders.
The locust takes a step closer. My attention rises automatically to meet his.
He put one of the flowers on his own chest, then searches for a place to stick the other one on me.
It’s a blue flower, intricate and round, about the size of a walnut.
The stalk is green and thin, and the locust finds nowhere to put it.
But this actually looks like a friendly gesture, so I gently take hold of the flower and stick it behind one ear. “Thank you- shit!”
As I look up, something bright flashes across the plates of his chest. Tiny blue-white sparks jump between ridges of armor with a sharp crack before disappearing again.
The locust looks confused and reaches up to touch his chest where the small lightning bolts appeared.
For a moment I forget about Earth. I simply stare. “What was that?”
“An electric discharge,” Lucius says. “Twenty thousand volts. Static electricity. Enough to sting but not to harm.”
Damn. A defensive thing in his armor? Or is he part electric eel? “Anything to do with the flowers?”
“I don’t think so,” Lucius says.
The locust reaches down and lightly touches the flower.
“Kast,” he rumbles. Then he points to his own. “Kast.”
I look up again. Standing this close, the giant alien feels overwhelming. Every movement carries effortless strength. The hard plates of his body catch the living light of the chamber. Even now, after nearly getting me killed, he looks far more attractive than he has any right to be.
Standing this close, I can feel the heat coming off him. His arm still circles my waist, hard enough that I know exactly how strong he is. And he just gave me a flower. When was the last time someone did that for me?
In a split-second flash I remember the way I felt when I came to, after the minefield, and I wonder what would happen if I now pretend to be more injured than I am-
I cut that idea off at the root. Get a grip on yourself!
Lucius rises between us. "He has a question."
I already know which one. The locust watches me steadily as he speaks. There are no gestures this time. No guessing. No awkward attempts at communication.
Lucius translates. "He wants to know where your world is. Don’t tell him."
I hold the giant alien's gaze for several seconds while I think through the consequences. Then I slowly shake my head.
"No."
Nobody speaks. The sparks don't return. And suddenly the room feels a lot colder.