Trapped on Predator Planet, page 17
He nodded and held the baby’s hand to wave at me. Waving in wonder, my smile broadened as they both grinned at me and stepped back into the dark cave opening.
“Now go,” the younger woman said with a gentle nudge. “Wear your love well.”
The green cloak wrapped around me, and I sighed.
“Joan,” Rax’s voice penetrated my sleep fog. “Wake to me.”
Blinking, I stared into Rax’s face. He’d removed his helmet, and the light from mine shone on his skin. His serene expression mirrored what I felt in my dream. It was the same. The cloak. Rax’s arms.
Love.
She will wear it well.
Panic roused my sleepy pulse.
“Can you put me down?” I asked, trying not to sound frantic. Turning away from him, I unlatched my helmet and grabbed a water pouch, sucking it dry and pulling out another one. After quenching my thirst, downing a ration bar and draining one more pouch, I stowed everything in pockets and replaced my helmet with shaking hands. “I need a private place for a minute,” I said, finally meeting Raxkarax’s eyes.
He stepped to a large tree and gestured. “Behind here.”
“Thank you,” I said with a nod, feeling my face flush.
After I finished up, we stood facing each other under the light of the half-moon.
“How much farther?” I asked.
“It will require five zatiks,” he said. “Let us rest. The tech-slave will guard the perimeter.”
Biting my lip, I considered asking him to run more, eager to escape his scrutiny. Was it my imagination, or did he stare longer at my face? Once we joined the others, I wouldn’t feel like a paramecium under a microscope. But he’d already run. He needed and deserved a rest.
“Yeah, good idea,” I said and looked around at the clearing. The ground had firmed up. The trees had changed from the gnarled, twisted trunks to straighter, thinner trunks growing closer together. The glen in which we stood was two meters in diameter with tussocks sprouting at the edges.
Rax unloaded his pack, unrolling his pallet and sitting down. “Give to me your cloak,” he said, and my breath stopped. He patted his pallet while removing his Tree Thief pelt and I realized he referred to the fur he’d given me.
Breathing once more, I nodded and untied the leather strips and handed him the fur. He arranged everything for maximum comfort and would spread one of the pelts over himself for camouflage.
“Lay beside me, Joan,” he said, his voice brooking no argument, and I found I couldn’t summon one anyway.
Tucking myself into his giant curved form, I imagined what it might be like to allow myself to sink into his adoration. Just immerse myself in his care without worrying if I could ever love again. Or if I had ever loved at all. Just—wear his love for me like a mantle.
***
At dawn, my eyes sprang open. Light seeped in from the place the pelt gaped; I could see the yellow tussocks and six slender legs. With short tan fur like on an Earth deer, they also had hooves, but there was a burr on the back of each hoof. Like a short barb. The animals couldn’t see us because of the pelt. With a steady hand, I parted the gap a smidge wider so I could look higher up at them.
Alert, the animal’s head was up, its black eyes staring intently at a place through the trees.
Oh! It was one animal with a lot of legs. Its broad brown neck sported yellow splotches resembling sun-dappled duff, and its rounded back ended in a tufted yellow tail.
Whatever danger it sensed passed, and it resumed its meal, tugging on the yellow tufted grass with its flat teeth while its throat sac hung flaccid, unneeded.
“The fapax,” Raxkarax’s voice caressed my ear. If we were bare headed, his breath would stir my hair. But even with helmets on, his voice triggered chill-bumps racing down my spine and back up again. “Leaf eater,” he translated.
“I can’t believe there’s another animal besides the grass eaters who doesn’t eat meat,” I whispered, though our external mics were off.
“Wait,” he said, and pulled me closer, his fingers spread across my belly.
A lizard ambled from out of my field of vision, its careful steps alternating as it approached the place where the fapax grazed.
“The fapax’s mouth emits an odor irresistible to the black lizard,” Rax said.
The fapax’s nostrils flared a split second before its forehoof stomped the lizard flat, and its long prehensile tongue scooped up the dead lizard and pulled it into its mouth where it chewed its meat alongside its yellow grass.
“Oh,” I said, unable to mask my disappointment.
Rax chuckled and removed his hand. “Should we rouse ourselves and join my brethren?”
Missing his hand, I watched the fapax as its head rose, eyes roving the area. It heard our rustling movement but still couldn’t see us.
“I don’t want to startle the deer,” I said, wincing when I used the wrong word.
“Ah, VELMA shows me a sight-capture of your Earth deer,” he said. “She tells me deer do not eat meat.”
Unsettled, the fapax looked around and decided its location was too unpredictable, and it bounded into the forest in a graceful leap.
Sitting up, I let the pelt fall onto Rax and unfastened my helmet to enjoy water and an MRE. Rax joined me in comfortable silence. When we sealed our water canisters and replaced helmets, I helped him roll up his pallet, and we secured our furs around us.
We would be with the others today. The thought didn’t stir unbridled giddiness in me. Stealing a glance up at Rax, I puzzled over my feelings. These last several days, it had been him and me with the occasional conversation with VELMA to break things up. Once we joined the group, maybe he would seek the company of his brothers. My colleagues might want to compare notes. Our time would be divided.
Trying to convince myself this was a good thing, I couldn’t shake the memory of my dream. The sight of David and our baby hadn’t twisted my heart into a painful squeeze. Instead, I’d felt light. They were happy and together. I sensed something grand just through the cave’s entrance but felt no draw to walk through it.
The green cloak, “love”, draped over my shoulders, had been a gift. From both the Goddesses and David. They discussed my wearing it as if it were Hanfu, the traditional Chinese dress from ancient China. That I “would wear it well”.
What did it mean to wear something well? How did one wear love? And probably the most important part of the entire dream: Who told you you must earn a gift?
I had done nothing to earn Raxkarax’s care. Did he love me? I didn’t know. But he cared. He treated me as lovingly as David had done.
Reaching for Rax’s clawed glove, I held it, and he grasped my hand without question.
In the little time we had left together, I wanted to practice what it might be like to love again. Just in case there was a place in my future for such a miracle. For such a gift.
Chapter 44
Raxkarax
When Joan took my hand, the anxieties in my mind settled. Perhaps she thought as I did, that once we were ensconced in the bosom of my brethren, we would no longer be free to explore the fragile tether that stretched between us.
“I had a husband, a mate,” she said, her voice loud in the silence of my private thoughts. I felt her grip loosen but I held firm, and she didn’t let go. “David. We almost had a child together, but he died in utero. David wanted to try again, or even adopt. But I wouldn’t even consider it.”
Her voice broke over a small sob, and I squeezed her hand tighter, saying nothing.
“I wouldn’t even agree to listen to his opinion,” she said, her voice strengthening. “These last weeks here? On Predator Planet? I’ve done nothing but stew about my past. Question everything I ever did. And spend hours reviewing all the ways I failed my husband.”
Holy Goddesses, let the predators of my world stay their claws in this sacred moment.
I said nothing, holding her hand in steadiness and willing my silent prayer to hold danger at bay while she spoke.
“I loved him,” she said. “I was devastated when he died. My friend CeCe had to force me to eat and drink and bathe for weeks afterward.”
Searching my heart for jealousy, I found none. Was this because her David was human? Or gone? Or from another time and place? I did not know. I knew only that Joan’s words explained the open wound she concealed.
She bared it to me now, before we joined the others, and my heart swelled at her trust in me.
“I wanted to tell you this,” she said. “To explain. To maybe ….” She stopped talking for a few steps.
“You have no need to explain,” I said, my voice a low rumble. “But I treasure your words as a sacred trust.”
“Thank you,” she said on an exhale, and I understood this—sharing her past—had been a battle for her, every bit as fearsome as fighting one of Ikthe’s beasts, and I honored her fight.
“Your bravery shines like the brightest star in the constellation Soup Spoon,” I said.
“Like the story?” she asked, surprise in her question.
“You know it?”
“VELMA played it for me,” she said. “The night BoKama told the story to Esra.”
“It is an old story,” I said. “Older than our queens. Older than the fortress, I think.”
“But you hunters,” she said, pulling me to a stop in the middle of the trail. She looked up at me, brows meeting in consternation and mouth turned down. “You still think the warrior was right to leave. To spare the mate all the pain. Don’t you?”
Heartbeat pounding in my chest, I feared my answer could determine my future. Searching her dark eyes, I released her hand and removed my helmet, that she could see my face when I answered. She removed hers, as well.
“Look into my eyes, Joan Wu,” I said. “For these many days have I puzzled out my role in your healing journey.” She tilted her head and parted her mouth, but I tapped her helmet with my claw, silencing her. “Nay, I sensed you bore a wound that could not heal. Your sadness. Your anger. Your fears and irritations. These were but the thorns you pulled from your wound, attempting to soothe the hurt.” Tears formed in her eyes, but unlike Hivelt, I would not turn away from them. “When I understood I had no power to heal you, I determined to be but the cleansing waters of a mountain stream. Unlike the Holy Waters, I could only refresh. When your wound weeps, I can pour cleansing waters to help. But just as living things require endless water, so too does your wound. If I left, who would pour the clean water?”
Pain contorted her features before she spoke. “But what do I do for you? I didn’t love David the way he needed. How could I ever …?” Her eyes widened, and her mouth shut. Had she been about to admit a love for me she didn’t possess?
Grasping her shoulders, I bent low to peer into her eyes.
“You need do nothing save breathe, Raxma bi Woa,” I said, emotion thick in my chest and throat. “I do not understand the ways of the Goddesses, but your mere existence draws my heart closer to you every zatik. I yearn to hear your thoughts and ideas. My ears yearn to hear your voice. My skin yearns for your touch. My eyes yearn for your gaze. My mouth yearns for your breath. My body—” I swallowed— “My body yearns to enrapture yours. All of this will be true as long as you live; and if you can do naught but see me, it will be enough.”
Gaze drawn to her lips, I saw that she brushed them with her tongue, and I leaned closer, scenting her neck, the line of her jaw, the skin below her ear.
Attuned to my heart mate’s lifeblood, I heard it pounding beneath her skin. Arousal swelled beneath my codpiece and my breathing quickened.
She allowed my closeness, but I scented traces of fear muddled with her own arousal. A single thought pounced before my mind—prey.
Breaths in ragged gasps, I released her arms and stood, raw emotion naked on my face. It felt as if my missing shoulder piece was rather my missing heart cage with my heart on full display for Joan to slay or devour at her whim.
Her eyes round, lips in a thin line and cheeks wet, she stared into my eyes, shifting from one to the other, and I saw her chest rise and fall with rapid breaths of her own. At last, she spoke.
“I do see you, Rax.” Her husky voice lit a fire low in my belly. “I can’t promise much, but I can’t help but see you. And the more I see, the more I want to keep looking.”
The tight band of uncertainty loosed in my chest, and I released a gusty sigh.
“Come, Joan Wu,” I said, my fangs clipping my lip when I smiled. “Let us away.” I held my hand out to her, and she grasped it, her serious expression softening into the softest hint of a smile.
“Okay,” she said with a nod, and if Ikthe swallowed me whole in this moment, I would be the happiest hunter she ever swallowed.
Chapter 45
Joan
Dazed, I walked with my hand in Rax’s, but was I walking? Or was I floating? I hadn’t declared my undying love for the massive alien. I hadn’t even declared a friendly affection. But his words had been like soothing aloe on a burn. And his “almost kiss” had almost burnt my defenses to the ground. I’d learned that the hunters could smell things beyond a human’s ability, but I could smell him when his face was close enough for me to press my cheek against his. I’d wanted to. I’d wanted a lot more than that when his black and red eyes stared at my cheeky tongue swiping my lips subconsciously, like he wanted to devour my mouth. Was I relieved when he pulled away without touching me? I didn’t know.
He continued to amaze and enthrall me without demanding too high a price. It cost me nothing to be in his presence. I didn’t need to perform or mask my moods. He accepted me as I was, where I was in “my healing journey”, as he’d called it.
How was this alien hunter more perceptive of my soul than most humans had been on the Lucidity?
Marveling, I imagined heat suffusing my glove where his hand engulfed mine, but we marched on, the suns at our backs but migrating overhead as we trekked.
The ground sloped downward, and I noticed evidence of the recent upheaval. Rockfalls, sheer rock faces jutting up from split tree trunks, uprooted trees lying across our path, and the disappearance of our path beneath rubble.
I missed his hand, but we had to scramble now, sliding down talus, clambering over fallen trees, and at one point, easing off a ledge and dropping eight feet to the solid ground below. Except, he went first and grasped me around the waist, lowering me along his body in a way that would have been sinful if we weren’t both wearing protective layers.
“I lost sight of the robot,” I said, willing the heat in my face to ebb. Rax still held me to him; my feet dangled.
“I have, as well,” he said. “Mayhap it has sped to alert the others of our safe egress from the Agothe-Fatheza.”
“Or it’s defending our perimeter again,” I suggested.
“Or has fallen down a cliff face,” he said without humor.
“Falling is bad,” I said, my voice quiet.
“Very bad,” he said in a whisper. “Dangerous.”
“I don’t recommend falling.” Was I doing this? Was I flirting with a giant hunter warrior while his huge arms held me close enough that our helmets bumped? Imagine if our helmets were … I closed my eyes and shook my head, and Raxkarax lowered me to the ground.
“Do not fret, Joan,” he said, his voice at normal levels. “I will never let you fall.”
It’s too late, dear Raxkarax, I said to myself.
“Thank you,” I said aloud.
“Hey!” a woman’s voice sounded in my ear, and I missed a step, looking around for the source. Rax caught my elbow, and I turned my head to wink at him, at his big black spider-face, anyway.
“Hello?” I said, seeing only the stand of trees our trail led into, a weird untouched section of forest flanked by boulders and slabs of ground.
“Hi! It’s Amity!” she said from somewhere.
“And Esra and Pattee,” another woman’s voice said while a separate one added a quiet “Hi.”
“The guys are here, too,” Amity said. “But they didn’t want to overwhelm you. We’re not far now! VELMA said we were within helmet range, so we thought we’d give it a try.”
“Great,” I said, a real smile on my face. “I can’t wait to meet you all.”
“Likewise,” Amity said. “We think there’s one more pod somewhere on this godforsaken sweat-rock, and we’re determined to find her before death does.”
My exhale must have been audible because someone laughed. A tug on my hand caught my attention; Rax had snagged it with a small tug. I grabbed his back, and we walked hand-in-hand into the afternoon shade in the trees.
“You said it,” the voice assigned to Esra spoke. “But our track record is a hundred percent, so ….”
“How’s Raxkarax treating you?” Amity asked. “This is our private girls’ channel, so you can be honest.”
“Oh, he’s—” I stopped. My feelings for him were emerging. Raw. New. Private. I cleared my throat. “He’s treating me very well. He carried me a few times when I was in danger of dehydration since the air was too toxic for me to take off my helmet. And my water bladder was empty.”
“Very good,” Amity said. “We suspected as much but thought we’d ask.”
“The hunters are noble and good,” Pattee said. “We would trust them with our mothers.”
Smiling, I peeked up at Rax, but he looked ahead scouting for trouble.
“What’s your kill count, so far?” Amity asked.
I heard harsh whispers and jostling.
“You don’t have to answer that,” Esra said.
“I only asked because I’m the worst at combat of everyone,” Amity said. “But maybe what I should have asked was, what kind of monsters have you seen? Oh, and everyone’s back on comms.”
My grip on Rax’s hand must have tightened because he squeezed me back, and I caught him looking at me. I gave him a smile and a thumbs up with my other hand.
“Oh God,” I said. “I don’t think I can remember all their names. Rax fought and killed an agothe-fax. There was a rokhura I named Eunice, but she got attacked and killed in the bog. I got bitten by a spiny warted rock-climber.”
