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She is part mourning, part pouting. I find that adorable, though I know I should not be encouraging it.
“I am sure it has not left you. It is part of you.”
“It is not. The song is not mine. It came from my mother, and it fled her at her dying and came to me. When I was almost dead, I felt it leave me too.” She looks at me with hollow eyes. “I do not belong in this world anymore. When you leave, so will I, one way or another.”
That is a dark threat, but I sense the truth in it. She was barely part of her tribe, and their rejection of her was final and complete. I can understand why she would not want to try to become part of this world again, having come so close to leaving it. I cannot tell her that her life will be joyful. She will likely experience pain and disease, a death which will come too early and…
BING BONG
The communicator beeps into life again.
“This is not a good time,” I tell it.
“You’re damn right about that.” It’s Krave’s gruff voice. “It’s the worst time. Broken time.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m watching human history,” he says. “They’ve started to incorporate ancient images of what look a lot like space ships and Galactor symbols. You know anything about that?”
“I can hardly be blamed for Galactor being down here too,” I say, silently cursing myself for not taking care of them as soon as I saw the markings. “Some of them were obviously sucked in when I was.”
Tres is listening intently, learning far too much. I should be shielding her from this, but I don’t want to. She’s right. She’s a person out of time as much as I am. Some of this knowing may be of use to her in the uncertain future yet to come.
“Kill the Galactor forces before they do any more damage,” he orders. “I’m not removing you from that planet until they are dead, their remains so thoroughly disposed of they will never be found.”
“I could throw them into the volcano. Nothing comes out of there once it goes in.”
“Good. Do that. Let me know when it is done.”
The communicator powers down. He didn’t say a word about Tres. Which means either Tyank didn’t tell him, or Krave thinks that’s a problem for another time.
Tres
“Well,” Vulcan sighs. “I’m going hunting. Stay here. Again.”
“You should be careful,” I say. “If you’re planning on hunting others out in the wilds. If there are others like you, there could be human hunting parties. The people who live down below are fierce hunters.”
“And?”
"They could hurt you.”
He laughs with genuine amusement. “I don’t think you understand what I am, Tres. I cannot be hurt by humans.”
“They take down prey larger than you.”
His demeanor changes.
“I. Am. Not. Prey.,” he snarls.
But he is. We all are. I am used to being small and weak, but Vulcan does not know how to be anything other than an aggressor. The notion of being hunted by our kind offends him, but I have heard stories of hunters who wear skins of animals many times more powerful than them. They bring down beasts which should rightfully slay them. Vulcan might not be an exception.
“They do not care if they die, as long as the tribe wins,” I explain. “They will send as many warriors and hunters as they can to claim you as trophy.”
“What is wrong with humans?” The talking rock activates again. The gruff man is gone. It is the nicer one again, Tyank, I think his name is. I am glad to hear his voice. He seems to make Vulcan relax. He certainly makes me feel as though we have allies of power. We need them.
“I’m trying to tell Vulcan that the other human tribes might be hunting the Giglactor…”
“Galactor,” Vulcan corrects me.
“That we will be hunting them too. There are very good hunters. The best hunters.”
“She’s right,” Tyank says. “You should be careful. Galactor warriors are dangerous, and having ancient humans in the mix won’t help.”
“I don’t need pep talks,” Vulcan growls. “I need to get on with the hunt. As soon as I kill them, Tres and I are coming up off this planet. Start working on a way to do that. She’s made it clear she wants to come with me, so it’s not an abduction.”
“Oh, sure. Let me get right on screwing with the entirety of history just like you,” Tyank says, sarcastic.
I smile. Vulcan is finally talking about taking me with him. I must have made my point, and he must actually want me. I’ve never felt as happy as I do in this moment, sitting beside my highly agitated alien mate, arguing with a talking rock.
“Humans are trouble,” Tyank says. “Maybe get rid of them now. Save the universe a whole lot of trouble.”
