Alien Life

By Cassandra Morphy

For the better part of the past twenty years, Scar Bron has been the translator for the local alien population. But as feelings blossom in their small community and tracks leading from the forest suggest that the stories of wild humans might not be stories, she must decide which side she's really on in the growing conflict.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cassandra Morphy
• Release date: Oct 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005966454

Cassandra Morphy

Cassandra Morphy is a Business Data Analyst, working with numbers by day, but words by night. She grew up escaping the world, into the other realities of books, TV shows, and movies, and now she writes about those same worlds. Her only hope in life is to reach one person with her work, the way so many others had reached her. As a TV addict and avid movie goer, her entire life is just one big research project, focused on generating innovative ideas for worlds that don’t exist anywhere other than in her sick, twisted mind.

Book preview

Chapter One

The Celebration

Happy Birthday, Scar, Merric shouted, as he pulled his hands away.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the low light of the room. In front of me was something that could easily be confused for a birthday cake, if you've never actually seen one. It's been over twenty years since I had last seen a real one. They haunt me in my dreams sometimes. They're always just out of reach in one way or another. Just like in my waking life. Still, they managed to get all thirty candles on the cake, lighting them all, without starting a fire. That was progress. In the flickering light, I could just make out the poorly written words in the icing. Dunactar Som, Scar. Roughly translated, it was Skilled enough to survive, Scar.

I made a quick wish before blowing out the candles. It was the same wish that I made every year without really thinking. Once they were out, Dan flicked the lights on, as he was standing by the switch. The rest of the cafeteria came into view. It was decked out with the same decorations as last year. Same as from the celebration from three months earlier when Merric turned twenty-eight. There was a banner strung across the main door to the room that said Dunactar Som. It was better written than on the cake. An old pink tablecloth was thrown over the main table. It depicted some unicorns frolicking in a meadow and said Feliz Cumpleaños. And, yes, they used that for Merric's birthdays as well. He didn't seem to mind it much. The door that blocked off the serving area was closed, with a paper spiral taped to it. I had made the spiral when I was twelve, though it was poorly made even for what it was supposed to be.

The only new item of decoration was a single balloon, hanging up against the ceiling. That surprised me a little. Balloons were hard to come by, helium even more so. Plus, I was pretty sure that Dan was afraid of balloons. He stayed over by the switch, as far away from the balloon as possible.

As Merric sliced up the cake, Harry was putting the slices on plates and passing them around. He smiled at me as he passed me a slice. He eyed Dan in the corner knowingly, as if the man's discomfort was funny to him. Which it was.

So, what did you wish for? Harry asked.

Paul laughed at the question. Don't you know, it won't come true if she tells you it? He scooped up the next piece of cake to be freed from the mass, using his fingers instead of waiting for Harry to serve it. The superstitions of inferior peoples.

Hey, Merric said. He jabbed Paul in the side with his knife lightly, smiling as he did so to reduce the offense of the injury. Not that the dull knife would begin to penetrate Paul's skin. No one here is inferior. We're all just people here.

Ha, Dan laughed. You'd like to think that. Despite his words, he continued to eye the balloon, though it hadn't moved the entire time that my eyes were open. It seemed like he would forego any cake rather than dare come closer to the balloon for the sake of getting any.

Well, of course I didn't mean you, Paul said. His arm rose up, moving towards Merric's shoulder, but fell back to his side before it quite reached it. With a look between Harry and Dan, he stuffed an entire slice cake in his mouth before heading over to stand in the corner beneath the balloon.

I don't follow the old superstitions, I said. I smiled to show that I took no offense at the gib. It was more of the same as I've had to put up with for the past almost twenty odd years. I had gotten used to it long ago, knowing that they never meant anything by it. It's nothing new anyway, just the same thing I wish every year.

See? Dan said, pointing accusatorially at me. There's no point in all of this nonsense anyway. Really, what's the point in celebrating going around the sun one more time, eh?

I took a small bite of the cake, trying my darndest not to choke or cough while I did. The cake was dry, bland, and gritty, as it always was. Still, I smiled as I swallowed my small bite, trying to not hurt Harry's feelings. He was the one that always tried to make the cakes. He put so much effort into them that it would break his heart to know how bad they were. Of course, he wouldn't know the difference, not having ever had real cake.

It's important to celebrate these small milestones, Harry said. Feeling like you've accomplished something in your short life.

Even when they didn't? Dan asked. Not much has changed since the last time we did this, what, like four months ago?

That was for Merric, not Scar, Harry said. He gestured between the two of us as he did so.

Dan grunted his continued annoyance at us. Like you can even tell the difference, he said. They're both so... human.

That's what you get when you have humans for friends, I said. I lifted my slice of cake towards him, something of a salute. An acknowledgement of the attempt at an insult.

Dan shuddered at the comment. His green skin shimmered under the light as he did so. He clenched his thick hands together, flexing the strong muscles in his arm, as if trying to show how superior the delnadian race was to humans. I knew he could break me in two if he wanted to. It was something that he often threatened to do in order to get his way in the few arguments that we've had over the years. When I didn't automatically react, he just shook his head, more in annoyance than anything else.

Who said anything about friends, he grumbled, almost a full minute after I had said it. Dan had never been one for comebacks.

Oh, come now, Dan, Harry said. There's no need to get defensive about all of this. We've been together, all five of us, since the start. Friendships are bound to happen.

Do not call me Dan, Harroditous, Dan said. His voice turned into a yell as his outrage grew. His voice started to distort as his volume raised, making it harder for me to understand him. Dan is a human name. My name is Danador, and you'd better remember that. And it hasn't been the five of us since the beginning. It's only been three. Three of us, and two of them. They are not our friends. They're little more than pets. I don't even know why I bothered coming to this thing. If it were up to me, the both of them would have been put out with the others fifteen cycles ago. They would have died in the mines like they're supposed to.

Oh, come off it, Paul said. He waved off Dan's gruffness as little more than his usual demeanor. Not many have died in the mines since that first cycle, and that was more due to the state we found this planet in than any negligence or danger.

I took a few steps away from the two of them, sitting down on the far side of the bench that ran along the length of the table. Merric sat on the other bench across from me, similarly trying to stay out of the way. Not for the first time, I wished that I had some popcorn to munch on while we watched the entertainment that was the interactions between the delnadians.

Besides, Dan, Harry said, stressing his name. It's not like we only just started shortening our names when we found the humans. You're just mad because Dan is also a human name. You were going around as Dan for, what, like three hundred cycles before we found this planet?

More like four hundred, Paul said. Remember, Dan is the oldest of us by far.

Yes, but I bet Dan doesn't even know just how old he really is, because he's never celebrated a cycle in his life, let alone a year. When Harry said year, it came out more like your, due to his heavy Delnadian accent. The word didn't translate well into their native language, as they had no equivalent unit of time measurement. Even their cycle had more to do with the delnadian growth cycle than with how their home planet traveled around their sun.

If I wanted to know how old I am, I could just count my rings, Dan said. I have more important things on which to spend my time.

And, yet, he's still here, Merric said. He raised his empty plate in a salute towards the delnadian.

I eyed Merric in surprise. Usually, we tried not to draw attention to ourselves when Dan was in a mood. This was for good reason. However, I guessed it had been a few months since we had poked the bear, so to speak. It was about time for a refresher on why it was a bad idea.

Dan snapped his head towards Merric. His neck cracked several times as he did so. The sound of it echoed around the metal walls of the cafeteria. I jumped out of the way, just moments before Dan started to stomp forward towards Merric. His long legs covered the distance from the door to the table in just two steps. The third and fourth step brought him up onto the table. He didn't need the boost of the bench to get up there, but he used it anyway. Even just standing next to Merric, he easily dwarfed the man, despite the fact that Merric was tall for a human. Standing on the table, his head almost touching the ceiling, Dan cut a very intimidating figure.

Paul rushed in behind Dan, trying to stop him from attacking Merric. Merric ducked down, jumping off of the bench and onto the floor. As he did so, Dan kicked forward. His foot cut the air solidly enough to emit a sound. Dan momentarily overbalanced in his kick and stumbled backwards off of the table. Paul caught the delnadian before he could hit the floor, righting him easily enough. Paul's hands lingered around his torso, holding the angered delnadian in place. However, with Dan being the strongest of the three delnadians, he easily broke free of the restraints, rushing forward towards the prone man.

With the first kick, Merric tucked into a ball, putting his arms over his head, to protect his most sensitive areas. Dan wasn't deterred by this. He circled around Merric as he repeatedly swung kick after kick at the man. Blood splattered out of him after the third kick. A shot of it splattered the doors that were in front of the serving area. I lost count of the kicks after the fifth one, but the beating continued long after Merric had passed out from the pain and blood loss.

You can still be thrown out with the rest of them, Dan yelled down at the bloody mess that had become of Merric. It wasn't clear if he actually thought the man could still hear him.

All I wanted to do right then was run from the room. From the building. To head out into the main complex and the camps beyond it. That wasn't an option for me, for more reasons than I could count. Instead, I just looked towards Harry, who was standing dumbstruck in the corner. This had been the worst beating that Dan had ever given either of us. The worst beating that he had ever given anyone that I had ever seen, human or delnadian. Of the three delnadians that I had been living with, Dan was easily the worst. The most aggressive. The most angry.

His anger spent, Dan stormed out of the room, heading off to less populated, and less breakable, sections of the building. Once he was gone, Paul went to Merric, his huge hand resting tenderly on the man's shoulder. For a moment, I wasn't sure if Merric had survived the attack, or would survive for much longer with the wounds he had been inflicted with. A pool of blood had started forming on the floor, beyond the small splattering that had sprayed against the far wall.

I was frozen, standing there, stunned, looking down at the prone form of Merric. Dan had always had a temper, for at least as long as I had known him. But this was a bit much. Not that he never took it out on Merric before. Even I had taken a backhanded hit from time to time. But he had never come anywhere close to killing either of us. Harry and Paul were at least better built, stronger, able to take the hits. Despite Dan's constant railing on us for being only human, he sometimes seems to forget just how breakable we were.

He's breathing, Paul said, though there was little relief, little hope in his voice.

We need to get him to the healer down in the camp, I said, more to myself than to Paul. I was trying to break myself out of my stunned inaction, but it wasn't working.

I don't think we should move him, Paul said. He sounded heartbroken, like he was looking down at his favorite pet who was about to die of old age. Mom had sounded like that, near the end, when we had to bring Bunny to the vet. Or was that me?

If we don't move him, he'll just bleed out, Harry said. I've seen that happen to one of them.

He's not going to die, Paul insisted. I had no idea what he was basing that on.

I'm no healer. I'm not sure how much blood is in their bodies. But that looks to be about all of it there.

But, we can't, Paul said. We can't take him down there. We can't take him to... them. You don't know what they'll do to him.

I'll go, I said, though my feet were still planted in the same place they had been since Dan attacked him. I'll watch over him.

Dan will never have that, Paul said. I-I-I can keep him here. I'll take care of him. I'll watch over him. He's not going to die. Not today.

Paul, the only way that's happening is if we get him down to the healer, I said. Finally, my feet answered my call and moved forward, moved towards the two of them. Paul looked small, hunched in on himself over Merric, though he still blocked most of my view of the man. We need to get him down there now.

It's getting late, Harry said. If you don't go down now, you won't be able to get back up here by nightfall. Come on. I'll help you carry him.

I got him, Paul said. An odd sound, something somewhere close to a laugh with a burp in the middle of it, flitted out from Paul. It was something I hadn't heard any of them make in the twenty years that I had been living among the delnadians. With what looked like no strain at all, Paul picked up Merric's prone body, cradling him carefully in his arms. As he turned around, facing the door, he was still looking down at the man. There was an unreadable expression on his face. Harry placed a hand on his shoulder for a moment before Paul started walking out of the room.

I rushed forward to follow him. It wasn't just my concern for Merric that kept me close. Without me, there would be no way for Paul and the healer to talk to each other. Our needs would be obvious enough to the healer. But Paul often got frustrated when confronted with English.

As we headed out of the cafeteria, I automatically looked towards my right. At the end of the hall that ran the length of the building was the gate. It was off at the moment, showing the metal wall on the other side of the metal ring. The ring was huge, easily ten feet in diameter for the circle inside of it, with the ring itself another foot. Despite seeing the thing every day, it always reminded me of that fateful day, almost twenty years earlier, when the ring fell from the sky.

The front door to the building slammed closed behind Paul. It jarred me from my internal musings, the memories that still haunted me despite how well my life had turned out. When I noticed that Paul and Merric were gone, I scrambled after them, only to be stopped by Harry. His hand reached out from the cafeteria, gently but firmly grabbing my arm and pulling me to a stop.

Here, he said. He passed me a small slip of flexi, a thin sheet of plastic that was easily written on and easily recycled. It was a pass for me to be outside of the main complex. I looked up at him in confusion for a moment, though I still took the flexi. In case you and Paul get separated for whatever reason, he said, shrugging. Shrugging was one of the few motions that both species had shared. I wouldn't want you getting lost out there, unable to get back into the complex.

Right, I said, smiling my thanks to him, before heading off after the others.

Chapter Two

The Healer

The healer's tent was small for its purpose, barely as big as the cafeteria in the main building. When I entered it, the place was already packed with three injured people. One of them had a broken arm. He clutched the mangled mess of it to his chest as he cried out in pain. His cries were so loud that I had heard it as we approached. The other two were unconscious, thankfully. Their heads were both bound by blood-soaked cloths. Their damaged helmets were sitting on the floor next to their cots.

The healer was an old woman who I had never caught the name of. She was crouched in front of the man with the broken arm. She tried to do something for him, but whenever she placed her hands on him, he jerked away from her. This only seemed to cause him more pain. There were no other people in there. No one to help the healer with her important work. What few supplies she had were spread out over a short table that was tucked away in the corner.

Whatever it is, it'll have to wait, the healer said. She didn't look up from the arm to see who entered. At first, it surprised me that she knew someone had come in at all. But, as the tent flap fell back into place, I could see the sunlight dancing against the far wall of the tent.

What did she say? Paul asked, in Delnadian.

As soon as his words came out, the healer dropped whatever it was she was holding and stood up, turning around to face us. Her mouth opened a few times, as if to speak. As if to say some apology for dismissing us so easily, so quickly, without actually seeing what it was that brought us there. After a moment, that look of surprise melted away as she leapt forward to tend to Merric.

What happened? she asked, ignoring Paul's question. She didn't know what he said anyway.

Dan, I said, the only explanation that I needed.

Damn, she said. Bring him over to the... Damn, I don't... She moved over to the man with the broken arm and pulled him off of the bed he had been sitting on. The man cried out in pain, nearly fainting in the process, before sitting down hard on the bloody dirt floor. Put him here, she said, patting the now empty bed.

Put him on the bed, I said to Paul, in Delnadian. He didn't need the prompting. He was already halfway across the tent, carefully placing Merric on the recently vacated bed. At first, Paul placed him on his side, in the same position that he had been in when on the floor in the cafeteria. But when a fresh spout of blood shot at him, he tilted him back onto his back, the way that he had been carrying him since leaving the main building.

I-- the healer started to say as she moved over to the bed from the table. A large piece of bloody cloth was in her hands, along with what looked like a dull, rusty knife. She paused right in front of Paul, bowing her head to him in submission. Sorry, your... excellency, she mumbled.

Paul, you're in her way, I said.

Sorry, Paul said. He bowed his apology to the healer before, reluctantly, backing away from Merric.

Once he was clear from the bed, the healer moved into the space that he was standing in. She pressed the bloody cloths into his wounds, one by one, trying to stem the blood that still flowed from them. I was surprised that he was still alive, that he still had blood to lose. The look on the healer's face didn't do much to stymie that.

He might need a transfusion, the healer said. Do you know his blood type?

Blood has types? I asked, surprised by the question. You mean like human? He's human.

No, I... Never mind, I'll just have to risk it. It's not like we have the equipment to type and cross blood here. We have what we have, and that's all that we have.

What is she saying? Paul asked. His frustration was starting to flow into his words. Is he going to be alright?

He might need blood, I said. She-- My words were cut off when Paul jumped to action.

He reached down to the man with the broken arm and pulled him up from the floor with that arm. The man screamed in pain, in anger, in fright. Paul produced a knife from his belt, pulling it free and placing it at the neck of the man. My hand reached out, quickly, but I was too short to reach his arm. I could barely reach his elbow.

Stop, I shouted.

What the hell is he doing? the healer asked. She was too busy tending to Merric to turn around properly. To see much of what was happening behind her.

Paul, put him down. That's not helping, I said.

But he needs blood, he said.

Not like that. You're just going to get it all over the floor. He needs it fresh, clean. And, apparently, there's something about types of blood. We don't know if this man has the right type.

Who would know, then? he asked. He didn't move the knife away from the man's neck, didn't lower him an inch. The man's legs dangled down, several feet above the floor, reflexively kicking Paul in the stomach. He didn't seem to notice the offense.

No one. They need something to tell types. The... What exactly do you need? I asked the healer, switching over to English in mid-sentence.

It's not something you're going to just be able to go out and find, she said. She grunted as she struggled to keep Merric alive. I don't even know what we'd need for it. I haven't done it since, like, high school. It was some special kind of paper or... something. Anyway, the knowledge of how to make the stuff would have been lost ages ago. And it's not like it would have been stored anywhere that would be easy to find. If it wasn't dumped already.

She has no idea, I told Paul.

That... She said a lot more than 'I don't know'.

You don't want to know what she said. Trust me. We're just going to have to risk giving him some of mine.

No, we can give him some of this man's, he said, shaking the man a little with his words. You, we need. Him, not so much.

I don't think they'll need to take so much blood from me that they risk my life in the process. This man has probably already lost a lot of blood, more now that you're holding him like that. I'm the healthiest human in here right now. I glanced over at the healer, thinking that I should have included her as an exception to that assessment. However, her sallow complexion and overly thin appearance made me think I was easily healthier than she was as well.

I'm not risking you, Paul said. I'm not risking either of you.

I wouldn't be doing this if I thought it was a risk, I told him. Though I knew there was a risk, I was pretty sure it was limited to Merric. While I didn't know much about blood transfusions, I didn't know much about blood, I was relatively sure that the giver of blood was never at risk.

Okay, he said, using the English word he had picked up from Merric and me. The healer looked surprised by his use of the words, and much more so to see Paul gently place the man with the broken arm back onto the dirt floor. The floor was no longer stained by only blood, but the man seemed grateful to be back on solid ground again. He skirted away from the delnadian, hiding underneath the bed that he had been sitting next to.

So, are we good? the healer asked. She was still holding the cloths against Merric's wounds, still pressing against them to stem the blood flow. Although, it looked like he had stopped bleeding by then. For a split second, I thought he had stopped bleeding because he no longer had any blood to bleed. But then I saw his chest rise as he struggled to draw breath.

We're good, I said, first in Delnadian, then repeating it in English. We're good. What do we need to do to get him the blood he needs?

What? the healer asked, momentarily confused by my question. Oh, right. Yes. I think... Hold this, please, will you?

Paul, can you hold those cloths in place? I asked. Apply pressure to them, but not too much. Okay?

Sure, Paul said.

The healer backed away from Merric the moment that Paul came up beside him. Her hands went to her mouth as she stared in shock at the delnadian's actions. The fresh blood on them deterred her not at all. She looked like she wanted to say something, to put out words of protest at his movements. But when Paul placed his hand gently against the wounds, her expression changed completely.

Uh, a little harder than that, tell him? the healer said. I just... How you deal with these aliens, I'll never know.

The healer puttered around with the strange objects on her table while I worked with Paul to get the pressure just right. He seemed worried, resistant to putting too much strength on the wounds. It was almost endearing to see him being so gentle with Merric. So cautious. So worried about his well being. While Paul had never been one of the more aggressive of the delnadians that we've had to deal with over the years, he was still a delnadian.

Here we go, the healer said.

She was suddenly standing next to me, a strange tube in her hands. The tube was yellow, thick, with plenty of stretch to it. At first, I thought she was going to tie it around my arm, trying to limit just how much blood I was going to lose while she drew it from me. But, then, I saw that there was a needle on each end of it. The needles were bound in place by some old string that looked like it had seen some harsh years. The string was brown, rather than red, and was frayed in several places. I had seen blood squirt out of the human body several times over the years, sometimes even my own. I would have thought my blood would tear apart the thing before any usable blood could be taken out.

It'll just be a little pinch, right... Um, can I have your arm? she asked.

Oh, yes, sorry, I said.

I looked at my arm before raising it up next to the healer, almost thinking there was a way to detach it somehow from my body. She looked up at me for a moment before sticking the flexible part of the tube into her mouth. With both of her hands free, she slid my sleeve up along my arm, exposing the smooth skin beneath it. I had always been self-conscious about my skin, how it was so pale, so white, especially compared to the fresh green of the delnadians'. The healer seemed similarly confused by my skin tone, staring at the arm in surprise for a moment. Once she got over her shock, she twisted my arm back and forth for a few moments, looking for something. I wasn't sure what it was that she was looking for. Some port, some place to plug the needle into? Was I missing something that normal humans had? After some exploration, though, she seemed satisfied with whatever it was that she found. She tapped on the inside of my elbow a few times, the darker, dirtier skin of her fingers a contrast to my own. The tapping left behind a brownish, reddish stain on my skin that I feared wouldn't go away. Perhaps it would help with my complexion. Perhaps it would give it the same color as she had.

The healer took the tube out of her mouth and held onto my arm with her left hand. She examined the arm again, tapping it a few more times, before sticking the needle in. It hurt, but not much. Nothing compared to some of the injuries that I had sustained over the years. There were times when I wasn't allowed out of the main building because of how many bruises that Dan had given me. But, with Merric dying on the table next to me, it was the least I could do, the least I could offer to heal him.

The tube turned from the bright yellow to a darker one, though only near where the needle went into my arm. The rest of the tube stayed its normal color. I expected it all to fill up, to turn red, to strain at containing the blood from the wound. Instead, it just stayed like that for a moment. The healer stuck the other needle, the one on the other side of the tube, into some odd contraption that I couldn't quite see properly. It was small, fitting in the palm of her hand. As she used it, whatever it was, she eyed Paul. It was as if she expected him to say something, to do something in response to her having it. However, Paul was too interested in what was happening with Merric.

Suddenly, I felt a tug on my arm, like someone was trying to pull the needle out of it through the skin. When I looked back down at the tube, it was suddenly full, though it kept its yellowish color. The darker shade that had appeared when she first placed the needle in my arm was already spread across its surface. The healer pulled the other needle out of the contraption. She hid the small device behind her back the moment it was free. Three drops of blood slipped out of the other needle, dropping to the dirt beneath her.

This will either help him or kill him, the healer explained. She was pulling me closer to Merric with her free hand while guiding the needle towards the injured man. If I had a better option, I would use it. But, I fear, without blood he will die anyway.

What are the chances of it working? I asked her. I eyed Paul, wondering if I should tell him the odds.

Well, I never ran the odds myself, she admitted. I'd say the chances are better than fifty percent. But, if we don't do this, his odds of making it through the night are quite less than that.

Fine, I said, nodding at her.

I closed my eyes, turning my head away, as the healer stuck the other needle into Merric's arm. It seemed somehow almost worse seeing that than watching her stick the needle into me. A few seconds after I closed my eyes, I felt a comforting hand on my arm. I opened my eyes, looking in that direction, expecting to see the healer there. Instead, though, it was Paul. His left hand still pressed the cloths into Merric's wounds, while his right rested on my arm. He looked between the two of us, his two pets as I knew he thought of us as. One was close to death and the other was the only chance that he had to survive.

We'll let that sit for a bit, the healer said. Can't have you giving too much, though. We can't exactly risk losing both of our alien whispers, now can we?

She pulled over a chair for me to sit in, the only remaining piece of furniture in the tent that wasn't already occupied. With the blood supply flowing through to Merric, she went back to trying to stop the wounds from bleeding. Paul seemed reluctant to give up that activity, the position right next to Merric. But I told him there was a lot more to do than simply press on the wounds. He stepped off to the side, giving the healer the room to work with while she feverishly tried to save Merric. I couldn't see much of what she was doing. Between the lower angle of being in the chair and the healer standing right there, I didn't have much of a view. Even if I had, I probably wouldn't have known what it was she was doing anyway. Whatever it was, though, it seemed hard. I could see the strain and sweat as it practically billowed off of her.

After what felt like an hour, she switched from her main activities to something that looked quite familiar to me. She took out a long stretch of thread and a bent needle, spending almost a complete minute trying to thread the needle. I was about to offer my help in that, I had done some of my own sewing over the years. But when I lifted my arm to reach out for the needle, it fell back down to my lap almost instantly. The movement was definitely a bad idea, as doing it seemed to have dislodged what had become a tentative position on the chair. I had been sitting still there the entire time, as the blood continued to feed from my arm to Merric's. It wasn't until I moved the arm that I started to feel the effects of that.

Oh, dear, the healer said. She placed the needle and thread back onto the table, coming over to me with a worried expression on her face. Let's get that out of your arm, shall we?

That was the last thing I saw before the world went dark.

Chapter Three

The Abandoned Post

I woke up a few hours later, lying down on the floor. The man with the broken arm was sitting there next to me. He was staring at me, practically watching me as I slept. Seeing his face there when I was first waking up, so close to mine, it made me bolt up into a sitting position. I even skittered across the floor away from him. My head hit one of the beds behind me.

Ow, I said, reaching up to rub at the offended area.

Are you okay? Paul asked.

His words directed my attention away from the man and towards the giant. He was standing right next to me, his leg against my shoulder, though I hadn't noticed him there. His hand reached down towards me, helping me up to my feet. My legs felt weak as I stood up, like they couldn't hold me. The room started to spin a little. But, as everything settled down again, my strength was quick to return with it.

Once I was upright and likely to stay that way, I looked between Paul, the two other beds, and, finally, Merric. Merric wasn't looking quite as gruesome as he had when we first went to the healer's tent. However, he still hadn't woken up. His shirt was a mangled mess on the floor next to the bed, having been discarded at some point. The wounds on his chest and stomach were covered with gauze. While the gauze was red with blood, it was also dry, which suggested that the wounds had stopped bleeding. The cuts and bruises on his face were open to the air, but they seemed much improved since the last time I had seen him.

Is he okay? I asked, not bothering to answer Paul's question.

I... I don't know, he said. He shook his head as he looked at the floor beneath him. The healer has been in and out of here for a while, since she stopped working on him. I'm not sure what she was saying, though. You know me and your languages. It all sounds like barking to me. How you can make anything out of that gibberish is beyond me.

Well, you taught Merric Delnadian, didn't you? That must have been difficult without knowing some English.

Actually, no, he said. His parents taught it to him. Merric is the last in a long line of interpreters that we had on the ship. Well, I guess not that long of a line. Third generation, I think.

Oh, I said, surprised. I just... He never really talks about his life before coming back to Earth.

Technically, he wasn't really coming back to Earth. He was born on the ships. I remember, he had this stupid coin he used to play with, flipping it over and over again in the air, catching it as often as not. I always figured it was the difference in gravity between the ship and here. But he was never all that coordinated here, either. He laughed as he remembered the details of Merric's youth.

Well, where is the healer? I asked. I should probably see how Merric is.

You should probably see how you are. You were out for almost three hours.

Wait, seriously? I asked. My eyes darted towards the tent flaps, worried that I was out past curfew. Though I had a pass to be out there, and was being escorted by Paul, the gates didn't let humans back in past nightfall. However, the daylight streaming in through the flaps seemed strong enough, suggesting I still had time to get back before they locked.

Don't worry, he said, sensing my discomfort. We can probably just camp out down here.

I think we're probably going to be in their way, I said. If they get someone in that's worse off than Merric, the healer might dump him on the floor like she did that guy. I motioned over at the guy with the broken arm.

The tent hadn't changed much in the time that I was unconscious. The two men with concussions were still lying down in the other two beds, though the sheet had been pulled up over the head of one of them. Something told me he hadn't done that himself. The clutter on the desk had been cleaned up a little, though the blood still stained the instruments on it. The only thing missing from earlier was the healer.

They wouldn't dare, Paul said, his voice taking on a lower tone as his anger rose once more. I'd tear her arms off if she tried.

Then the camp wouldn't have a healer at all, I said. It's not like you can send the injured humans through the gate, right? Do you want to go back to losing half the workforce every time there's an accident?

No, no, you're right, as always, he said, his anger quickly abated. Training the new workers reduces our output too much. I wish there were an easier way to train you humans. But there isn't and we can't afford to miss quotas.

And, there's the loss of life, I said, knowing he didn't see it the same way as I did. He just waved off my concern before looking back to Merric's prone form.

Ah, I thought I heard another voice in here, the healer said. She was standing near the tent flap, though it had already fallen back into place. I wasn't sure just how long she had been standing there, listening to us talk in a language she would have had no way of understanding. How's our patient?

Wouldn't you know better than I do? I asked, looking behind me at Merric.

I meant you, she said. The healer came over next to me, grabbing my wrist without any warning. She pressed on my skin with two fingers on her right hand in a weird way that I hadn't seen in a while. It awakened some faint memory from my childhood. Well, your pulse seems strong enough. I shouldn't try taking any more blood from you for a few days, though. I'm afraid I let the transfusion go a little too long. Not that we're going to be needing any more blood from you anyway. Not this time around, at least.

You mean, he's going to be alright? I asked, looking back over at Merric. There were days when he was the only human that I ever saw. I couldn't bear the thought of losing him.

I won't know for sure until he wakes up, she said. She came up next to me, on the other side from Paul. This put her right next to Merric's feet, though she didn't seem to mind the placement. I'll want to keep him here overnight. Keep an eye on his vitals. Check for signs of rejection of the blood. Though, if he were going to reject the blood, it would have happened by now. I'd say it's pretty safe to assume that your blood is compatible to his. Now, I'm not saying the reverse will work. Hopefully, we won't have to test that. Anyway, you two can probably head back up to the complex. I'll send word when he wakes up.

What-what did she say? Paul asked. His eyes never left Merric while I was talking with the healer. I started to wonder if he thought Merric would die if he looked away. Is he going to be okay?

She said he'll probably be fine, I said. We're just in the way here, though, and she, politely, asked us to leave.

Ha, he said. The word came out with something akin to a human laugh behind it, though one with no mirth to it. In fact, from a delnadian, a human sounding laugh meant the exact opposite. It meant that he was close to tears, or the delnadian equivalent of them. That's not happening.

Wait, this isn't Dan, is it? the healer asked.

What? I asked, turning back to her.

You said it was Dan that injured him, right? This isn't Dan, is it? I don't want Dan standing so close.

No, this is Paul. Why would you think it's Dan?

"I don't know. They all look alike to me. When he laughed at poor Merric's