Starport: Zeta Prime (Alt) (11 page)

Each
introduced themselves, waiting expectantly for Jillian to do the
same, laughing softly at an accent that must have sounded strange
to them.

As
Jillian ate a plate of sweetened grains, she listened to the
females talk and comment about her. They spoke fast, and she could
only make out bits here and there, but it seemed she had married
the leader of the tribe, and commanded a great respect from the
females. It felt good to be in the company of others, even if they
couldn’t communicate, and Jillian finished her meal feeling very
comfortable in their presence.

* * * *

Faron
was fast, but
he was too far away, and despite him moving like the wind, the
guard managed to pull his weapon and a gunshot rang out, followed
by more in quick succession.

* * * *

One of the females, calling herself Fenn, passed
Jillian a smooth, large cloth and
some cut fur, and waved for her to follow as she stood clutching
one of those bright green bags. Holding onto the material parcel,
she noticed that the cut fur must be clean clothing – and it
seemed, or at lease she hoped, that there was a bit more to it that
her current outfit.

Walking with Fenn to the side of the main building, she
pointed out what looked astonishingly like a shower. A pipe made
from a rubbery, hollow plant flopped across the red ground and
was
lifted by a sturdy
looking post, the end dangling down over it.

Fenn made
Jillian
watch as she pulled out a stopper stuck in the end of the pipe, and
a crystal clear stream of water came flowing out. Jillian almost
clapped her hands at the ingenious design, and stripped off right
away, having learnt yesterday that this race were not in the
slightest prudish. She stepped under cold water and laughed at
Fenn, who was stood gawping at her body. Fenn bowed an apology,
fearing that she had been rude but Jillian waved to her, trying to
communicate that it was okay.

Once clean, she was again treated to the
massaging application of oils and dressed. Her skirt was marginally
longer, but the top half remained a thin strip, only just covering
her modesty.

Smiling her thanks to Fenn, she decided to
make her way back to the bedroom, to await the return of her new
husband.

Chapter
Twelve

She had
no way of knowing how long a hunt would last, and no way of asking,
so Jillian made herself comfortable on the bed and hoped that it
wouldn’t be too long a wait. She was just considering a nap when an
elderly female she recognized from the ceremony stepped into the
room.

The woman was graying slightly, shots of silver running
through her yellow hair, and her silken brown skin had tiny creases
around the eyes and forehead. She was a little more rotund than the
others which gave her a soft, kindly appearance in comparison to
the bulging muscular build of the
younger ones.

The
woman gestured for her to come and Jillian obediently obliged. Away
from the circle of dwellings, they walked to another large hut. The
walls were not adorned with artwork in this one, and the long table
that ran the length of it was covered in some sort of wheat. Behind
each of the benches that were pulled to the tables were large,
tightly woven sacks.

The woman sat down on one of these benches and extended her
hand, meaning for
Jillian to
sit opposite. Once seated, she reached for a ceramic bowl and a
teardrop shaped device, she passed similar objects across the
table. Jillian examined them, not having a clue what to do with
either.

“
We have
to process our grain before we can eat it.” The woman explained. No
doubt she had heard that Jillian could not speak the language, but
she carried on explaining regardless, much to Jillian’s
relief.

“
We need
to gather some of the unprocessed wheat, put it in here.” The woman
scooped some wheat from the table and placed it in the bowl. She
looked to Jillian who realized she was supposed to be doing the
same, and tentatively placed some into her own bowl. She was
astonished. She had heard, and taken as read, that the inhabitants
of Zeta Prime were little more than primitives. She had envisioned
them eating raw meat from carcasses and sleeping on the woodland
floor–yet here she was, processing grain after a night’s sleep in a
comfy bed and a shower when she woke. If only she had known before.
If only any of the humans had known. Perhaps they would be living
together, integrating harmoniously?

“
It
needs to be crushed into a fine powder. Use the tool to mash it up,
try and crush every grain.” The woman used the teardrop vessel to
start mashing. It was like a pestle and mortar. Jillian felt
relieved that the process was not too foreign or beyond her
capabilities, she wanted to prove her worth to this woman, for some
reason.

Copying her action, she started to grind the
wheat as the woman carried on talking.

“
Of course, we are all delighted
that he has found a mate at last. He had plenty to choose from, but
it seemed he had been waiting for you, all this time.”

Jillian
found her
heart leaping at this information and fervently hoping it was true,
that he had been waiting for her. It made her feel a little better
about his sullen manner earlier that day, perhaps he had just been
irritated at having to go out on a hunt and leave
her?

“
Now you have a fine powder,
simply tip it into the bag behind you. The cooks will come and
fetch it later.”

Jillian
held her bowl
to the woman, wanting her to check it had been done correctly. The
woman nodded and pointed to her own, which seemed to be of the same
consistency. Careful to wait until she had been shown rather than
told, she then tipped the contents into the bag.

The woman took another handful of wheat from the table and
began mashing again, so
Jillian followed suit, hoping that the lady would continue
her chatter and provide her with more insight.

* * * *

Across the forest, near to the colony, the
group of male aliens helped each other limp back towards the
village. One, more seriously hurt than the others, handing
lifelessly off of the back of one of them.

* * * *

Unknowing, in the village
Jillian continued to crush her grain, listening intently to
the words of the older female.

“
We all knew who wanted to become
his bride. She made it perfectly clear that was her intention. But
she has a coldness around her heart, something spiky about that
one. We knew she wouldn’t be chosen.” The woman laughed.

“
Oh, you should have seen her face
when he told us he had rescued you.”

Jillian
had to try
very hard not to react to this news. He had rescued her? She
thought back to the night she escaped. She had thought that she had
just been lucky–getting away as she did. But why had they not fired
shots at her as she’d expected? Suddenly, it seemed that luck may
have had very little to do with it. Had Faron helped her to get
away? For days, she had considered herself a prisoner, when in
fact, she had been a salvaged refugee. He had saved her
life.

More than anything now, she wanted him to return so that
she could show her gratitude. She had seriously
misjudged these people from the
start.

“
In
seriousness, Jillian. You need to watch yourself with that one. We
all joked at first about her tantrum upon your arrival, but I
watched her face during the ceremony, there was a blackness on it.”
The woman’s face grew serious and she stopped her pounding of the
wheat to meet Jillian’s eyes.

She assumed that the woman must have been
talking about the first female who had bought her food, but
couldn’t be certain. She had picked up on the animosity right away,
but didn’t realize there may be a grave competition going
on.

Well,
she was bound to Faron now, he was her mate, and there was little
the other female could do about that. He had chosen her and she’d
just have to accept that. Jillian severely regretted having ever
pretended that she couldn’t speak the language. For now, she was
unable to ask questions that she so desperately wanted to ask.
Like, who the female was, and what to expect her reaction to be.
Also, she wanted to tell Faron that she knew what he had done for
her, and that she was grateful for it. She wanted to join in with
the fun chatter of the females this morning. She wanted to know
these beings.

She couldn’t very well just announce her knowledge, more
than making her look devious and
underhanded, it would make Faron look a fool in front of
his tribe, and that was the last thing she wanted. She decided that
maybe it was time for her to pretend to learn it. Starting
now.

“
Wheat.” She spoke in English and
pointed to the grain on the table. The woman looked at her,
confused for a moment, so she repeated the word with the action.
Understanding, the woman pointed and repeated the word in her own
tongue.

Jillian
spoke it,
purposely fumbling the vowel sounds at first, until she had copied
it a few times. The woman laughed, delighted.

“
I am
Sennan.” The woman placed her hand on her chest. Slowly, Jillian
did the same, once again being careful not to be too perfect right
away.

“
I am
Jillian.”

Sennan smiled as she reached for more
grain.

“
You
will be fine here. Keep your eyes out for that woman. I warn you
that she may stop at nothing to take Faron as her own. Protect
yourself however you can.”

Jillian
heeded the
warning internally, but lifted her shoulders in an attempt to
portray her loss of understanding at Sennan’s
speech.

The woman talked the entire time they sorted the grain,
knowing that
Jillian couldn’t
understand her but wanting to be friendly and not have the pair of
them sit in silence. She spoke about births and marriages within
the tribe with great pride, Jillian was warmed to learn of their
sense of community, of togetherness, and was also fascinated to
hear about natural births–similar to that of humans on earth a long
time ago, and not even possible now.

As
morning moved into afternoon and both of their sacks bulged with
the bulk of the powdered wheat, Sennan got up from the table and
with one hand, invited Jillian to do the same.

“
Now, we’ll go and eat. The men
will be back by sundown.”

She felt
excited at the prospect of seeing Faron that evening, and happily
followed Sennan back to the communal hut.

Smells
of cooking hit her once again–a now familiar scent of spices and
honey. She presumed that the door at the back of the building must
lead to a kitchen of sorts, given that was where the fragrances
were coming from. The room was much more buzzing than it had been
that morning, alive with the shouts of children teasing each other,
adults talking in groups and eating. They all turned as she stepped
inside, Sennan next to her, and she saw nothing but a sea of kind
faces looking towards her.

She
scanned the room quickly for signs of the one who had bought her
food when she’d thought she was prisoner. She had a strong feeling
this was the one she’d been warned about, but there was no sign of
her so relaxing, she sat with her new friends to eat.

* * * *

A
trail of blood followed the males as they made the arduous journey
on foot back to the
village.
Nobody spoke to each other, knowing that they had to preserve their
strength. The whole way, Faron admonished himself for not being
quick enough, not being able to avert this horrific catastrophe. He
hoped they had enough time, hoped it wasn’t too
late.

Chapter
Thirteen

Shouts alerted
Jillian as she lay on the bed. Surprisingly, she’d enjoyed
her day. It had been nice to help out with the processing of the
grain–to do something useful. But she had found following the
language, and pretending she didn’t, exhausting. So later in the
afternoon she had come back to her new dwelling to relax before the
men returned.

She hovered in the doorway to try and see what the
commotion was about, and was horr
ified to see a group of the men–including hers, dragging
themselves from the tree line. Clearly, all was not well. One of
them was being carried by another, his head supported by Faron to
prevent it flopping backwards.

Dread stuck in her throat as, like all the
other villagers, she raced over to help them.

“
We need
to get him to the healing hut.” Faron gestured to Ashan needlessly.
His eyes were closed as he hung over Charin’s back, alarmingly
unresponsive.

“
You all
need to go there,” said an elderly woman, stern enough for none of
them to argue. Ashan’s wife pushed through the group that had
gathered and started sobbing at what she saw.