No Words Alone (3 page)

“There’s heat in your right foot,” Delfane
said, glancing down. “Hold on.” He swung her up on a sled without
asking permission. Perched precariously on several tarp-covered
parcels, she gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the surge of
pain that electrified her leg. Sitting wasn’t much better than
standing, not with her legs swinging as they were.

At the end of the tunnel they entered a
two-story cavern a little longer than it was high. The floor was
solid dun rock, and the atmosphere was a surprisingly comfortable
temperature. Stone stairs ran up one wall and opened onto a
second-story balcony. Dusky light filtered down from that level,
making Xera shudder. Surely there weren’t windows up there! Some
things she didn’t need to see.

The Scorpio did a quick reconnaissance.
Satisfied that they were alone, they made camp.

Xera slid off the sled and hobbled over to a
bench carved into the wall. Exhausted, she drained her water bottle
and then tackled her boots. She had to get the injured foot out
before it burst the leather, and there was probably enough sand in
there to build her own beach. Even her eyes were gritty with
it.

It took an effort to pull her boot off
without whimpering. Once free, her foot throbbed with a vengeance,
doubling with the pain of her blistered, raw soles. She pulled off
a sweaty sock and hissed at the feel of the cool air on her tender
skin. What she wouldn’t give for some warm water and antiseptic!
Instead, she lay down on the bench and closed her eyes. Maybe she
should be grateful just to be breathing.

She must have slept, for she was woken by a
nudge. Blearily, she wiped grit from her eyes and looked up. It was
Brirax.

“You need to tend your injuries. You can’t
afford gangrene.” He handed her a bottle and a packet of gauze.
“There is medicine in the water. Use it to clean your wounds.”

“Thanks,” she muttered as he walked off, still
groggy. It was tempting to go right back to sleep, but he was
right. A nap could wait until she made sure her limbs wouldn’t rot
off.

She sat up stiffly and washed her feet,
hissing every time the gauze made contact with a sore. Walking was
going to be painful for the next few days, what with all the
blisters, but it was comforting to know she wouldn’t be the only
one sore-footed. While she was at it, she swiped at the gash over
her eye and washed her face. She was unable to see what she was
doing, but such ministrations were probably better than none at
all.

Finished, she glanced around, seeing many
other tired, dispirited souls. These were in the human camp,
really. While the aliens were quiet, they didn’t seem overly
distressed. But, of course, this was their turf.

Ryven had watched the woman lie untended for
a half hour before he intervened. It had been a small thing, to
send the medicine, but he shouldn’t have had to do it. Among his
people the most badly wounded were attended first, then the women
and children. Warriors with minor hurts would delay their own
comfort.

This protocol was in contrast to that of the
humans. The square-headed human captain hadn’t bothered to see to
the only woman in his group. He’d immediately flopped his body down
on a bench and let his men tend themselves for a good ten minutes,
only rousing himself to give orders when hunger stirred him. His
group’s translator, possibly one of his best assets, he’d
ignored.

There was another difference: Ryven hadn’t
needed to order his men to make camp. They knew what was necessary
to do and did it.

His people were stronger than humans; he
could see that now. While tired, they had not suffered nearly as
much on the march. He would almost have been impressed by what the
humans, with their limited physiques, had managed to do...if they
hadn’t neglected their woman so. She needed ice for that foot. Even
from here he could see the faint heat signature, an angry,
painful-looking red.

This time, he chose to take it himself rather
than send Brirax.

Xera looked up, mildly surprised to see the
alien leader. He plopped a cold pack onto her foot. “Use this.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. While the gesture
had not exactly been gentle, she appreciated the ice, if not the
source. She would not forget that this man was a killer. In all
fairness, though, he had no reason to love her people. She forced
herself to accept that, too. “Did you need something?”

His face gave nothing away. “We’ve activated
the temperature control system. The thermal grills for cooking are
on-line. You will be allowed access to water, but your people will
have to forage for their own food; we will not share our rations.
Whatever you brought in your packs will have to suffice, though we
will show you how to seek what food can be gathered. If you are
diligent, you will not starve.”

Well,
there
was great news. “Anything
else?”

He walked away.

Apparently not.
She sighed. And things
were about to get worse. She wasn’t looking forward to talking to
her captain, but here he came.

“What did he want?” Khan demanded, eyeing her
icepack suspiciously. He sifted his weight from foot to sore
foot.

She relayed the information Atarus had
provided. “Did you want some water now?”

“Water?” he shouted. “Water? What I want is
to get off this blasted rock!” His piggy eyes narrowed. “Did he say
if a ship was coming for them?”

“I have no idea,” she admitted, wishing she
did. It would change a lot of things, knowing there might soon be
more of the Scorpio. She didn’t relish being a prisoner of war. “I
don’t think they’d tell me if they did.”

Khan grunted at her. “You seem mighty cozy
with them.”

She looked at him tiredly. “Sir, I’m the only
member of our crew that speaks their language. I’d be happy to
coach you and everyone else on it, though. God forbid I should drop
dead and leave you all with no idea what they’re saying or
plotting.”

Captain Khan grabbed her shirt in a rough
grip. “Watch it, Harris-d. If we are stuck on this sandpit, we
won’t be seeing any more of the GE. Rules of discipline be damned,
I’ll jump at the first chance to teach you to watch your mouth.
Remember that.” He released her with a shove and walked away.

With mixed emotions, Xera watched the man
stalk off. Granted, she could probably kick his butt if she needed,
but not if the crew backed him up. Besides, doing that would just
invite being attacked in the dark one night, which would of course
end badly. She wasn’t inclined to pick a fight, and the alternative
was lying low. Swallowing against that bitter reality, she lay back
down and stared at the ceiling. God help her if the GE didn’t show
up to save them. Much as she hated their politics, her employers
were the only thing likely to save her from what was coming.

It was morning by the time she woke. Groaning
at her stiffness, she glanced at her watch and saw she’d slept for
almost twelve hours. She was surprised she’d been allowed to rest
so long, but a look around showed everyone else was moving slowly,
too. She gingerly sat up. It was amazing how comfortable even a
stone bench could be when you were dead tired, but she was paying
for lying on it with even more aches.

Someone had thrown a survival blanket over
her during the night. She brushed it aside, thankful for the thin
material’s added warmth. She’d had one in her pack but had been too
exhausted to dig for it last night.

She had to limp along the wall, using it to
steady herself as she sought out Brirax. He saw her coming and met
her halfway.

“I need to know where the…
bathrooms
are,” she told him, trying not to be embarrassed. For some reason
it was harder to ask an alien this question. It didn’t help that
she didn’t know the exact words to use.

His brows drew together. “What?”

She sighed. “I drank too much water.”

His face cleared. “Follow me.” He watched her
hobble for two steps, and then motioned her to stop. “Wait.” He
hurried up the stairs to the balcony where the Scorpio had moved
all their stuff. He came back down with a laser rifle, which he
handed to her. “It’s unloaded.”

“Thanks,” she said, surprised by his
generosity. The weapon made for a cumbersome cane, but it helped
get her across the room to where she needed to go.

In the area the Scorpio indicated, there were
several doors right next to each other. She went through one and
shut the door, then took a quick look around. There was a seat and
something that looked like some kind of composting unit. There was
nowhere to wash her hands, however. Finished, she opened the door
and asked Brirax about it.

“Run your hands in front of that stone,” he
instructed, pointing to an area in the back of the restroom. “The
energy kills the....” She didn’t exactly understand what he said,
but she got the drift. He added, “If you would like to cleanse your
entire body, press the stone and stand there for a count of
seventy.” He closed the door to let her check it out.

It was like a solar shower, and she didn’t
even have to undress to use it. She’d heard of the concept but
never experienced one. Green rays surrounded her, dissolving the
dirt and oils from her clothes and body. In slightly over a minute
she was as clean as if she’d never been chased through a desert by
monsters. Even her muscles felt better, as if she’d had a long, hot
bath.

“Cool,” she told Brirax as she stepped out,
using the Scorpio word without thinking.

“The temperature was cold?” he asked. “I will
have to inspect it.”

She laughed, realizing her mistake. “No! It
was a compliment. I think your technology is wonderful.”

“Oh.” He looked as if he hadn’t understood
all her words, but seemed to process enough. “I will show you where
to get water. Gather your crew after that and we will explain how
to forage.”

Commander Atarus acted as their guide.
Captain Khan and all of her crew followed along for the tour. It
was tiring, hobbling around the cave with stiff muscles and a bum
foot. Xera finally broke down and accepted an offer from an ensign
to be a human crutch. He’d seemed especially eager to help her, but
she was too grateful to be wary.

The water was no big deal; it came out of a
faucet in a wall alcove. The foraging was harder. They had to
descend some stairs that opened out into a lower cavern. It was
cool down there, populated with fungus and shadows. Something
crunched under her feet. Atarus shown a flashlight at her boots and
she yelped. The ground was swarming with fat slimy things.

“Ah! Worms! And bugs!” She tried to move away
but just stepped on others.

“Protein,” Atarus corrected with some
amusement.

She stared at him. “You’ve got to be joking,”
she said in her own language, too grossed out to use his.

“What’s he saying?” Khan demanded. “What are
all these worms doing here?”

“Dinner,” Xera said softly, feeling sick.

Her words caused an uproar. Atarus just
looked at the humans with aristocratic unconcern until the noise
settled down. He waved a hand at the fungi. They looked like pulpy
fans and grew on the stone columns, floor and walls. “The stone
fungus is edible once cooked, and this lichen makes a tea that will
provide valuable nutrients.” He indicated a glowing green plant
that resembled dead leaves. Xera wondered if she’d start glowing,
too, if she drank anything made of that stuff.

Her ensign crutch was a braver man than she.
“Can’t be worse than mom’s cooking,” he said philosophically, and
began gathering ingredients.

Xera felt sick. She started to hobble to the
stairs. Step, crunch. Drag, step,
squish
. She shuddered.
Reaching the steps, she hurried up. Brirax, Delfane and their
captain had been either slow to leave or were waiting for her. They
didn’t say anything. Atarus wordlessly placed a hand under her
elbow and supported her as she climbed.

“Tired?” he asked as they reached the upper
cavern and blessed light.

Not a bug in sight. She sighed gratefully and
tried not to think about the condition of her boots. “Some.”

Shocking her, he swung her up into his arms
and strode off toward her bench. None of her crew was there to see
it, and his own people didn’t seem fazed.

“What are you doing?” she gasped, panicked.
She struggled, but he was even stronger than he looked. Was he
going to try something now that no one was watching?

He set her down on her bench. “Stay off the
foot if you want it to heal. There is little for you to do now but
translate, anyway.”

She gave him an unfriendly look. “I don’t
like being carried.”

“You do not seem to like bugs, either, but
you will eat them,” he said, unconcerned. “What is the name of the
man who helped you down the stairs? You should have him for your
help.”

“Ensign Trevor, and I won’t need help
long.”

“Good.” He walked away.

She watched him go, her gut still swirling
with unease. She began to wonder how much of Delfane and Brirax’s
help was his doing.

She was still wondering a little while later
when Delfane brought her a bowl of gray soup. “What is it?” she
asked warily.

“Don’t ask,” he advised her.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and
told herself it was mushroom soup. Of course it was. It wasn’t bad,
really.

He handed her a mug of faintly glowing green
tea. His eyes crinkled with amusement. “Your face reminds me of my
daughter when she tries something new. Her face always twists just
so.”

Surprised, she asked, “You’re married?”

“Yes. Drink your tea.”

Cautiously, she complied. It wasn’t great,
but it was drinkable. Kind of reminded her of kelp.

“Good. Now you will finish the soup and
translate the making of it for your people.”