Citun’s Storm (4 page)

“I’ll help you find your warriors. After that, we’ll see.”

It was good enough for Citun. He planned on keeping this female. As long as she was with him, she would stay with him.

* * * *

Storm kept a few feet away from the huge warrior. She was a good judge of character. Citun wasn’t lying about his warriors. There would be no reason to. She knew space ships hovered overhead. They were deep inside one of the numerous mountains, but every so often a patch of sky overhead gave them a peek at what lay in wait. The Gorgano vessel was half the size of the Zargonnii vessel. The Gorgano were tall gangly aliens; they wouldn’t need the size a Zargonnii would. Citun was huge, broad, tall.

Glancing back at him briefly, she noted the difference. There was a definite change to his size when he was calm. His bare oval belly had a ten pack that smoothed when he grew. There were gaps between his large teeth that filled when his teeth expanded. He was a strange sight. Thankfully when he changed, he wasn’t ugly like the Tonan. The deceptive stunning good looks of the Tonan made her and the other women swoon until they realized how evil he was. Never again would Storm be swayed by a pretty face.

There was no mistaking Citun’s purpose on the planet. The warrior was there to capture or coerce females. A massive group of warriors figured they were no match for helpless women, but a lone warrior might be successful. Citun knew she could mind-battle, he wasn’t as simple minded as she thought. He said all the right things to lull her into a sense of false security, then he’d pounce. Storm wondered if they had a device on their ship that could render a human female unable to mind-battle.

Right now Citun needed her to survive. She didn’t need him. The area they roamed was her home, had been for years. The simplicity, when not overrun by aliens was a beautiful life. The weather was predictable; there were no shock storm surprises. No bombs or weapons. Acceptance stopped only when aliens were involved. Storm wished for the once simple serenity. Again her world was torn asunder by forces beyond her control, or maybe she could find control.

The need to keep moving was a boon; Storm knew every inch of the area for hundreds of miles in each direction. She knew the dangers—even to him. She knew the food they could eat and the water they could drink. She would make the titan following her so reliant on her he would be too embarrassed to take her away. Fearful she would tell the other warriors she saved his life. His kind would have a mile-high ego. The all-powerful warrior, his prowess surpassed by no other; she could almost read his mind the way he strutted like a peacock. Storm needed only to ruffle a few feathers.

So far, she’d saved him from a Gorgano, drowning and burning his finger off. She was up to a good start. A warrior and a leader who was so influential wouldn’t dare risk becoming a laughing stock. All Storm needed was to find situations to place them in where she would save him and add it to the growing list.

There was no way a massive leader wanted anything to do with a human female who would make him feel completely useless. Storm decided it was a good plan. The devil she knew was here on the planet. A few male Cono overlooked her presence when the alien encounters grew fewer. In time the beings on the planet could coexist as they had before. The planet was dangerous but nothing was more dangerous than the unknown. Storm planned to make her awareness of her surroundings work to her advantage.

“What line are you following?”

Storm looked back over her shoulder at Citun. They’d been walking for over an hour, she surmised, when they emerged from the sheltering overhead rocks.

“The line I was following leads to shelter. The cubbies are an off grey in color. It’ll be dark soon. Darkness here comes fast; it’s not gradual. And trust me, you do not want to be in the open in the dark.”

“I can see in the dark.”

“Well, lucky you, you can see what will eat you.”

“Nothing scares me.”

“The pond looked like it did a pretty good job.”

Citun winced and for a second Storm felt bad. But if her plan was to work, she wanted him second-guessing his prowess.

“The Gorgano was in my thoughts.” He sounded subdued to her.

“Yes, it was. There could be more. I get that you’re a warrior and that you’re strong. You tossed my hundred and fifty pounds over your shoulder like I was a sack of fluffy, weightless potato puffs and ran like there was no tomorrow.”

Citun stopped dead in his tracks. “Holy shit, I knew you were light but a hundred and fifty? That’s it? Female, we need to get some weight on you.”

“I don’t need weight on me. I look fine, I feel fine. I’m healthier now then I was on Earth. I think I’ve lost about twenty pounds since landing here. But definitely gained muscle.”

Citun snorted. “You have about as much muscle as my friend’s twelve-year-old son, well maybe not even that much. Our females are heavier than most warriors. They are massively muscled and beautiful.”

Storm sighed. There would be no reasoning on the subject. The warrior was undoubtedly at least four hundred pounds or more, so their females must be formidable. Talk about your culture shock. A male who has been programmed to accept a female and her larger weight and be impressed. The idea made her wonder why he was interested in human females. There had to be a certain reason.

She started walking and headed to a safe spot, changed her mind and took him to a small lush bush containing delicious numerous nickel-sized nuts. The nuts were sweet and reminded her of large cashews, same color, texture, salty, satisfying. There was one small problem with the accessible treat. Storm picked a handful of the off-white objects and ate one. As she figured he would, Citun downed a sizable handful to each single nut she ate.

“These are good,” Citun said. She noted those sharp teeth of his made short work of the crunchy nuts. Bits went flying and she was reminded of
Beauty and the Beast
. Except she doubted there was a prince under the titan.

“Mmm hmm,” she muttered, and waited, nibbling. Discreetly she pretended to eat more but dropped them.

“I ate before leaving my ship, but this is a nice snack.”

After three nuts Storm knew it was time to stop. She moved off and Citun munched more nuts as they walked.

“Will night fall soon?” Citun asked.

“Yes. And trust me when it falls, it drops hard.”

Citun tossed the remainder of nuts in his mouth and chewed with contentment. Storm glanced at him waiting, wondering. They continued on until Storm figured the alien had a cast iron gut. It had been a good plan, but she supposed Citun could eat metal and not flinch. He was a beast after all, or a goat. She sighed and continued on. After a moment, her hair stood on end when Citun belched. He put a hand to his mouth, looking embarrassed. He belched again making her blink. Colliding trains were quieter. Fighting Cono would run in terror at the noise he made.

“Are you all right?” she asked, understanding a storm was brewing in his belly. It appeared he wasn’t invincible with food.

“Were those things we ate poison?” Citun asked.

“Of course not,” Storm was indignant. Killing him never crossed her mind. All males were big babies when ill. A fast bout of flatulence and diarrhea was a simple way of showing him he wasn’t omnipotent. But he was about to be potent in a minute.

Citun burped again. Storm was hard pressed not to cover her ears; the beast was a fog horn. For a second, he appeared frantic as his hand went to his belly. His gaze fled wildly about and Storm knew the threat was imminent.

“Excuse me,” Citun said and made a beeline for the nearest bush.

He sure can move like a cheetah when he needs to.

Storm winced and scrunched her nose. The noises coming from behind the bush made her wish she’d stopped him from eating so many nuts, but he was so big a few would have done nothing. For a moment, she wondered if she
had
poisoned him. The idea made her worry. The gasping and burping and farting widened her eyes; she placed her hands on the sides of her face. Citun groaned, Storm groaned with him, remembering her first experience with the nuts. The fiasco was a learning experience for all ten of the humans in the beginning when they first landed, now there was a memory. Ten bushes gave up their lives that fateful day.

“Talk about the perfect storm,” she whispered.

Small explosions erupted not ten feet from her. “Oh God.” She gasped and moved back as the smell wafted her way.

When Citun finally emerged, she went to take his arm but he waved her off. His cheeks were red. He looked like he battled a war and lost.

“I guess that’s a food a Zargonnii should never partake of,” Citun mumbled.

Storm didn’t know whether to chuckle or feel ashamed as she regarded his stilted gait. She decided the next thing she gave him to eat wouldn’t cause a war in his belly. But he did appear not as ‘mightier than thou.’

“Wow,” Citun said.

Storm looked up. The wave of blackness descended as it normally did, no warning. An inky ebony moving at a quick rate shutting out any blue in the sky. Storm wasn’t concerned; they reached the safe place she intended to spend the night as they were thrown into sheer darkness. The mass amount of moss draped in heavy sheets covering the opening was deceptive. It took effort to move a small amount of the thick vines back for entry but Citun stepped over and pulled a wad of the green slimy mess apart.

A soft comfort of light flickered within. Storm ducked when she entered the rounded opening, Citun was doubled over. Inside, they could stand comfortably. The hole was a cubby. With Citun’s eyes blazing it was easier to see, but he needn’t have bothered. Inside were glowworms. Thick glowing green masses stuck to the walls and ceiling all slumbering. They were harmless, their snoring more of a purr.

A portion of the floor was damp and before Storm sat, Citun dried the area off. She flopped down feeling exhausted. Citun slumped near her, keeping a foot between them, glancing around. Moisture dripped down the walls, splashing into small puddles. Seaweed covered most everything, giving the glowworms beds to nestle in. Storm shivered. Normally, when she spent the night in one of these cubbies, she brought a ground mat and wove a blanket of long ferns, easily accessible everywhere she traveled. The entire planet catered to her needs, until the aliens came.

“What is this place?” Citun asked.

“A safe place to sleep. The cubby fills with water during the early part of the day. The massive amount of moss keeps the water contained from spilling out until full, once the moss gives way the cubby drains. Sometimes the Cono come through and pull the moss aside to let their little ones play if the moss hasn’t already released the water. The small valley fills like a bath. From above I watch them. They’re cute when they’re young.”

“What do these creatures look like?”

Storm scratched her head. “Do you know what a centaur is?”

“No.”

“A centaur is half horse, half man.”

“There is such a thing?”

“A human myth, or folklore. A Cono is a being that stands maybe your height at its withers. With a torso, head and arms, with one hand a claw, the other has six fingers. The torso is bare, with maybe eight eyes in strategic places, four on the chest, four on the back. I say maybe because I never stayed close enough to one to count them all. The body of the Cono is shaggy grey fur. The females are pure white. So are the young. The males develop the grey as they fight and grow older. They have longish heads and a mane of thick fur. Pointed large ears, a flat nose and two additional separated eyes high on their forehead.

“At first their, um, man things, are rounded at the tip. The older they get the sharper these get for penetration. The young males can’t penetrate a female Cono, so they look for other females. Even the young are too big for a human; they seem to know this so they search out the other alien species on the planet. They don’t want to kill. Only the adult males started killing, but they never used sex. Destroying female aliens in their world was never about control. They only wanted to protect their own.”

“You have spoken to one of these creatures?”

“Yes. I understand them. But only after my first battle with the Gorgano. I tried to explain to Oct, he was the male I ran into, that I could help destroy the Gorgano, but he said they wouldn’t come if I was the one destroyed. He’s the most powerful Cono I’ve ever encountered. I was hoping to sway him so he could speak to the other males. The battle for females is too one-sided with so many aliens wanting us dead. The Cono have no allies.”

“How did you get away from Oct?”

“My thoughts invaded his, and I bogged him down until he couldn’t move. I told him as soon as I was out of sight he would be fine. He was scared because he needed to be whole to keep his family safe. Cono are warriors in a way. Nothing is more important to them than to keep their loved ones from harm. In order to do that, they need to fight and be strong. Oct was different after I bested him. He felt if a tiny female could pin him, he was no warrior.”

“What happened to him?”

“After the Gorgano left and there was a tentative peace on the planet, I let Oct ‘save’ me. It was dangerous, and I was worried how he would react. But he had started to let me trail him again when he hunted. There are huge shaggy beasts on the planet; they resemble a super-sized ox. The fur is beautiful and warm on nights that can be cold. The meat is delicious. I knew once the threat of the Gorgano passed, the Cono would no longer need alien females dead. Like I said, their hearts weren’t into killing us. I was hunting when I saw Oct and decided to follow him instead; he’s so much taller and sees farther. He wasn’t hunting the ox creatures. The beings my clothes are made of are from a pony-sized herbivore that resemble a gerbil in my world. They travel in herds of fifty or more who stampede when startled. I ended up in the middle of the stampede. Oct saved me and ‘let’ me live. It was nothing for a creature of his size to lift me to safety. His females fussed over how wonderful he was and merciful, and since then we’ve had a quiet existence.