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“Is it true they can sense your thoughts?” Kate asked with an air of wonderment.
“To some extent,” I replied. “They sense emotions more than words.”
She stepped closer to observe but maintained a respectful distance—a sign that she understood more about our ways than she let on.
Our journey took us next to where some of our hunters were preparing for an expedition into the desert. They sharpened blades and checked their gear while discussing routes and strategies in low tones.
Kate’s gaze followed their movements closely. “Are they going hunting?”
“Yes,” I confirmed as we approached them.
One hunter, tall even by Surlon standards and scarred from battles past, glanced at Kate before nodding at me—a silent question in his eyes.
“They’re gathering food for the village,” I told her.
“I’d like to help if I can.” Her voice held an edge that commanded respect rather than pleaded for acceptance.
The hunters exchanged looks before one spoke up—a female named Tala known for her tracking skills unmatched by any other in our tribe. “What skills do you bring?”
“I’m not sure what would be useful here.” Kate’s reply was humble yet open to challenge. “But I’m quick and good with technology.”
Tala considered this for a moment before nodding slowly. “We may find use for those skills yet.”
We left them to their preparations and continued our walk through the village grounds until we reached an open space where several Surlons practiced combat drills under the guidance of our master-at-arms—a formidable warrior named Cael who had trained even me when I was younger.
“Would you care to learn some of our ways?” I offered spontaneously.
Kate squared her shoulders and nodded without hesitation. “I would.”
Cael watched as we approached but gave no sign of surprise at my request—his face remained stoic as stone but his eyes betrayed interest.
Kate stood before him respectful yet unflinching—an admirable trait among warriors on any planet.
Cael stepped forward offering her a training weapon—a staff carved from wood hardened by our desert suns—and motioned for her to follow his movements without speaking a word.
She mimicked his stances and swings with remarkable precision given her unfamiliarity with our methods—her movements fluid and confident despite being new to this dance of combat.
Cael’s nod was almost imperceptible but it was there—the sign that he saw potential in this alien visitor who had fallen from the sky into our world.
As midday approached and brought relentless heat upon us, activity slowed down in favor of seeking shade or taking refuge inside cooler structures made from mud bricks unique to our land.
Kate followed suit finding respite under an overhang near where food was being prepared for when hunters would return from their venture into wilder parts of Surlon.
She sat down beside me on woven mats used for communal meals and shared stories about where she came from—tales filled with starscapes vastly different from our own night skies but somehow familiar too, like myths shared across cosmic distances.
Her words painted pictures vibrant enough that even I who had never left Surlon could see them—could imagine galaxies spinning silently beyond reach yet connected through stories told by strangers now friends.
And so we sat side by side—the sheriff and the space traveler—as villagers went about their lives around us, each moment weaving tighter threads binding us together despite differences vast as space itself.
***
I leaned against the wooden post of my office’s porch, arms folded across my chest, and watched Kate converse with Tala. The hunters had set off, and Kate’s offer to help had been declined—not out of distrust, but practicality. Her skills with technology wouldn’t serve them in the hunt, and her unfamiliarity with the terrain could prove more a liability than an asset.
Turning away from the scene, I caught sight of Wyatt, my brother, lounging in the shade with his sirocco, a lazy smile on his face as he fed the creature some sweet fruit from his palm. My friend Lance stood a few feet away, polishing his badge absentmindedly while keeping a watchful eye on the village activities. I pushed off from the post and strode over to them.
“Wyatt,” I called out as I approached.
He looked up, his easygoing demeanor shifting to attention at my tone. “Yeah, Kian?”
