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Brooks
I’m glad I did decide to eat one of my MREs before setting off on my exploring today, because I’ll be able to look my new alien friend in the eye when I tell him I’m not hungry.
I start the fire burning using the flints he gave me to light the first spark, feeding the little flames on leaves and twigs. Everything in this forest is damp, and it takes longer than it should for the flame to catch and build, but with patience, I get it burning hot enough that it takes the damp fuel without guttering. I give it some time to really heat up while I collect up some larger branches, then carefully build them over it, leaving plenty of room for air to circulate.
It takes me back to learning these skills as a child. Barely eight years old, the rifle on my back a three-quarter size one, but still almost as big as I was. It used to be so exciting, hefting those guns and our huge packs as our trainer lead us off into the wilderness, teaching us survival skills. My whole childhood, my whole life, training to be the best sort of soldier. Capable, adaptable.
And they wanted me to forget all of that. Make them babies. What was the point of it all?
Well, I think, surveying the forest around me. It was for this. But there’s no way Mercenia could have known that at the time. And given that I was frozen for some reason, maybe they didn’t want my skills when I could have actually used them either.
Something flickers on the edge of my awareness, teasing out of the fog in my mind. Not a memory, but a feeling. Outrage. Furious, biting anger, just before the great, yawning dark of frozen sleep.
I shake it off for now. Things are coming back. Before long, the memories will organise themselves into a coherent narrative. Until that happens, I just need to keep pushing forwards. Starting with these humans that Maldek knows. Remnants of the research team or some other explorers? I don’t know, but I need to find out.
Maldek finishes skinning the cat creature, rinsing some of the gore from the skin before rolling it up tightly and stuffing it in his pack. Gross. That thing will surely stink in a few days, dunked in the stream or not. But I look at his clothes, all of them the same natural sort of brown colour. Leather. And you make that from skins. So perhaps he intends to make himself an outfit. Or me.
An image comes into my head, some contraband magazine some of the guys on my unit had found in an insurgent encampment somewhere. The buxom woman on the front dressed in underwear made of animal furs, screaming and cowering as some barbarian man fought off a giant lizard. They’d all laughed at it, as if they found it contemptible.
But the dirty fuckers didn’t burn it like they should have. I’m sure it went round all their tents in the nights that followed.
Would my alien ‘mate’ want me dressed like that? I glance down at my less than impressive chest, my scruffy hair flopping into my face. I wouldn’t be much to look at.
The idea that he’s my mate is still laughable, but he actually said all of that stuff. It wasn’t just my subconscious trying to nudge me in the direction of remembering the Military Tier Breeding Program. He said everything he said unprompted.
You are mine, linasha, and I am yours. Your hurts are my hurts, your pains are my pains, just as your joys are my joys.
A shiver goes through me at the memory. I turn my attention back to the creature Maldek is gutting, watch as he splits it down the stomach and pulls all the innards out. Nothing like some intestines to push all thoughts of mates out of a girl’s head.
Soon he has the creature spitted and I help him find large sticks to hold it in place as it roasts over the fire - which he breaks up using one of the branches I’d set aside to feed it, until it’s just coals and ashes smouldering, no flames licking up out of it. That done, he turns his attention to something else in his pack. A tent, I realise, as he starts to build it up. Another thing likely made out of the skins of creatures he’s killed and eaten. That’s not something we ever had to figure out as soldiers. Mercenia provided us all with the best equipment. Not just the guns, but tents, flak vests, helmets.
Boots that cut your feet to ribbons.
I look over at Maldek’s feet and the light, supple boots he’s wearing and feel a pang of jealousy.
I don’t help with the tent, instead turning the cat on its spit so it cooks evenly. The smell of the meat roasting doesn’t exactly make my mouth water, but it’s not as unpleasant as I thought it might be. It still looks chewy, but I’ve probably eaten worse in my time. I know well that you don’t waste anything in a survival situation. Maldek’s probably cooking this creature up because he can’t be sure where his next meal is coming from.
The only certainty I have is my three remaining MREs and this cat creature, so I shouldn’t turn my nose up.
When he’s done with the tent, Maldek checks the roast and the fire. The rangy creature doesn’t have a lot of meat on it, but while the outside is looking crisp and well cooked, the underneath will probably take much longer. He spreads the ashes of the fire out a little further, not feeding anything else into it, just leaving them to burn down. He puts his hand over it, testing the temperature, and nods. I’m just thinking I don’t like the idea of leaving the carcass unattended - the smell of the meat is thick in the air, and I don’t doubt there are other creatures around who might smell it - when Maldek uses his spear and a few larger sticks and branches to make a sort of barricade around the roast, sharpening the tips of the sticks with his blade. He doesn’t do it with any of the precision or smoothness of the spear itself, just hacking the ends into uneven points. Crude, but effective. That done, he turns to me and gestures towards the tent.
Nerves make my throat tight as I pull off my boots once more and step inside it. It’s not the largest space, but I’ve slept in closer quarters with fellow soldiers. None of them looked at me the heated way that Maldek does, though.
You know the ways of mating? It is when two people are joined in their spirits. Their bodies.
I try to shrug off the shiver before it can take hold, dropping down to the floor in the furthest corner of the tent. This is just a practical necessity. I need to speak to him about the human women he knows, where they came from, if they’re safe. I need to know what he knows about the Mercenia base, my research team. The only way I can do that is to have him enter my dreams.
If that leads him to believe that I’m willing to be his mate… Well, that’s a problem I’ll just have to deal with when it comes up.
I’m about to curl up on the floor, try to relax myself down into sleep, when Maldek speaks.
“Nhi Brooks.”
I glance up at him to see he’s holding out an animal skin to me. Not the one he’s just washed off and stuffed in his pack, but a soft, dry one. Thick and padded. I take it, feeling the buttery smooth leather-like texture on one side, thick warm fur on the other. I use it to pad the floor underneath me before lying back. On the opposite side of the tent, as far from me as he can get, Maldek does the same.
I appreciate that. It tells me he has some awareness of and consideration for my feelings. One more mark in the tally of his ‘good guy’ qualities.
I shift, getting myself comfortable. The fur is much nicer than my scratchy Mercenia blanket, but much like last night, it could be the thickness of a cotton sheet and made of steel wool and it wouldn’t matter. Exhaustion comes over me in waves, relentlessly dragging me down towards sleep.
