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I grimace at the wound. The human’s attempts to clean it were clumsy but earnest. Luckily, we were inoculated against much of this planet’s bacteria. Between that and my naturally superior Draci immunity, I’ve fought off the sickness. The wound is closing up.
If I were near my shuttle, I could heal it immediately with my bone and dermal abrasion repair device. Foolish of me not to bring it to the cabin—I’ll remedy that upon my next trip to the shuttle. What do I care of the human-Draci pact not to have undue influence on human culture by limiting Draci technology?
If the rebels have their way, we’ll subjugate these people and then they’ll know all of the Draci’s might and ability. And then they’ll bow down before us. It was my mother’s dream.
I turn away from the reflective glass, my stomach churning. Thoughts of my mother do not sit well with me. I shun the thoughts. I’m just hungry, that is all. Who knows how long it’s been since I’ve had the kind of food a Draci needs for might and strength?
There is a pleasant noise in the air, but as I walk into the kitchen, it immediately stops.
I frown. “Why did the sound stop?”
Giselle turns toward me from where she stands at the stove, her eyes wide. “What? Oh, I guess I was humming. Sorry.”
“Continue. I like the noise.”
She laughs though I do not see what is funny, then she pulls a pan off of the stove and brings it over to a little table she has pulled into the kitchen from the dining room, a chair set up on either side. It is… intimate.
“This is the last of the eggs,” she says, forking cooked yellow protein from the pan onto first the plate in front of me, and then onto her own, before putting the pan back on the stove. “So you’ll need to get some more.”
She comes back to sit across the table from me.
“Drink the water.” She gestures at a full cup in front of me. “You’ll need it so you don’t get dehydrated.”
I only observe her as she does all of these things, and as she takes the oddly-shaped utensil in front of her and then begins to fill her mouth with the steaming yellow protein.
It is only after a long moment of me watching that she catches me and frowns. “What’s wrong? Eat up.” She gestures at me with her utensil and slowly, I pick up mine from where it’s sitting beside the plate and try to mimic her movements. I stab some of the yellow protein and then place it in my mouth.
It has a slightly rubbery feel, but on the whole tastes very interesting. “It is similar to the taste of the Hitzik bird egg,” I say.
She nods slowly. “I wonder if they look like chickens. And if things on an alien planet can taste like chicken. You know how everyone here jokes that everything tastes like chicken?” She looks at me a little expectantly and hopeful for a brief minute but then she waves her utensil. “Never mind.”
Her gaze drifts toward the window as she continues to eat, in silence now.
I do not like this. I like it better when her chattering voice fills the void. “Tell me more,” I say after taking a large bite of eggs, “Tell me more of these delicious chickens.”
She laughs and I frown. She always finds me funny when I am not trying to make a joke. I like being funny to her all the same.
Her laugh is a beautiful sound. I like it the same as I like her humming. Someone should capture these sounds on a device and play them so that all among the rebels could hear that not all humans are vermin. Some are fascinating mysteries.
“Why didn’t you leave?” I ask, my confusion at her actions finally too much to bear in spite of my good sense.
She frowns and wipes her mouth with her napkin. “There was nowhere to go,” she says, avoiding eye contact. “If I got in trouble again, there was no one to protect me this time.”
She shoves the last of her eggs in her mouth. It’s only then I realize she put far less on her plate than she did on mine. And this was the last of it, she said.
I look around the kitchen and take in just how empty it truly is. There’s barely anything to eat here. I arranged for a house, not realizing it would be stocked with only the barest of essentials. I assumed I could take care of procuring whatever food we needed.
But truly, I’ve fallen short of acquiring much in the way of food for my mate beyond what what was here when I arrived, including the eggs we’re now finishing.
I put my own fork down. “I do not understand. Why did you not incapacitate me further once I was injured? Then it would not matter how far or how long it took for you to find help. I would no longer be a threat.”
