Starport: Zeta Prime (Alt) (14 page)

Faron
twisted himself
off of her and pulled her head to his chest. He felt ready now to
face his people–no longer guilty or regretful, he knew all he had
to speak was the truth and they would all understand.

Jillian
ran her
fingers over his velvet torso, wanting to remember every inch of
him. They lay there comfortably for a long time, caressing each
other with delicate strokes, occasionally meeting lips and
searching the depths of one another’s eyes. Different in shape and
color, but matching in the intensity they reflected
back.

Faron
had to force
himself to rise from the downy covers on the bed, from Jillian’s
body wrapped around his–he had a duty and it could not wait until
tomorrow. He smiled as he caught her watching him dress.

“
You need to come, too. I know you won’t understand but you
need to be there. The people need to see you,” he said and passed
her the tiny coverings that passed as her outfit, the bottom of her
skirt still torn from where she had ripped him a dressing for his
wound.

“
I’ll get you new ones in the morning.” He commented,
an
d she felt excited at his
words–it meant they would get to spend all night
together.

She lifted the clothes in front of her in a question, ever
mindful of her now annoying and pointless lie. He nodded
affirmation and so she began to put them on. Following him first to
the medical building
and then
to check in on Ashan.

He was still
lying on the table, but was now propped up by bundles of fur. It
was warm inside–the tiny fires that had been lit to provide light
giving off a lot of heat in the small room.

“
My friend. How are you?” Faron asked, standing by his side.
Ashan’s blood was soaking through the bandage on his chest, and
there was an alarming amount of it.

“
I’m going to be fine. It’s a little sore but the healer
says I can go back to my dwelling later. He’s just gone to gather
some herbs to redress the wound. To be honest, I think Fenn was in
a worse state than me.” He managed a cheeky grin, much to both
Faron and Jillian’s relief.

Once
Faron was
satisfied that there had been no lasting harm done, he clasped
Jillian’s hand and led her to the communal hut. They walked through
the center of the village together, the elevated flames not really
needed to illuminate their path–the five moons were all full,
shining silver into the night. They passed the water pump and onto
the main hut.

Jillian
could hear
that is was bustling before they stepped through the door and took
a deep breath to steady her nerves. She wasn’t expecting to be
attacked, but in a way, the embarrassment of being shunned was even
worse somehow. Faron squeezed her hand as they entered.

It seemed
the whole tribe was there. The tables were cluttered with plates of
exotic-looking fruit, and what looked to Jillian, but couldn’t have
been, great hunks of bread and yellow blocks of cheese. The
atmosphere was almost festive with everyone gathered together,
talking at once, but it significantly changed as the aliens spotted
their leader. Their respect was obvious, palatable almost and not
one would betray him so as to openly hiss at the woman on his arm.
But they did their best not to acknowledge her specifically, most
of them eyeing her with uncertainty.

Faron
left her near
the top of one of the tables, towards the front where he took his
place. She kept her eyes on him, not wanting to know who she was
stood near or what reaction she would get if she cast around a
friendly smile.

“
Today was not a great tragedy.” The room went instantly
quiet as
Faron began to
speak. Several of those who had been standing sunk to the benches
at the tables, and children climbed onto parents’ laps.

“
We experienced injury to our flesh, but no loss. I led our
men to the invaders of our
planet. I led them to a specific place. Where there are
ones who were cruel to my mate–Jillian.” Several heads turned to
her at the mention of her name, but she kept looking straight
ahead.

“
She would have been killed by them
. T
hey had no
mercy or consideration, and I wanted to extend a warning to them.
We fought well and now understand their weapons better, so the
mission was useful. Knowledge and understanding bring forth power.
I wish for you to know and accept that Jillian had nothing to do
with their injuries to us. She was not there, and she did not point
the weapon–thusly should not be treated as though she
did.”

Jillian
could have
cried with relief, hoping that his words would be enough to
convince them, hoping that they would be heeded. Faron’s speech had
appeased the crowd
.
T
here was a more relaxed feel
to the air. The chatter started back up, and several peals of
laughter drifted from the back of the hall.

She waited
for him to come back to her, needing him by her side. She realized
completely that her wellbeing was totally tied to this man. She
owed him her life, and now she owed him her future–he was the only
reason she stood here, in this village, with this tribe. If
anything happened to him she may not be welcome, she may even have
to run. Then she’d be a fugitive from his people as well as her
own. And where exactly would she run to? She couldn’t go back to
the colony. Or to Earth.

Jillian
’s future was
now with the cat-people, and she was determined to make the best of
it. It may have been an opportunity forced upon her at first, but
it was still an opportunity. As mate of the leader of the tribe,
she was going to try her hardest to make him proud and to fit in.
This was now home.

Chapter
Sixteen

She spent the night snuggled in
Faron’s arms, and was pleased that his mood was light
when they awoke the next day. He kissed her firmly, and she felt a
now familiar stirring down below, but to her disappointment though,
he got up, leaving her in the bed once again.

“
I have to go for the day,” he said
.

Immediately she thought he was going
back to the colony, perhaps for revenge, and she grabbed his arm
and shook her head wildly. No. To make sure he got her point, she
also gestured to his bandaged wound.

“
I am not going out to fight.” He laughed at her, making arm
movements towards the forest and also shaking his head. She
released him, relieved.

“
This is your village now, go meet some of the others and
relax,” he said to her before he left.

Jillian
sighed. If
only he knew just how hard that may be. She was fearful about going
back out there, but her grumbling tummy and newly found acceptance
of her situation motivated her to swing her legs to the side of the
bed and prepare herself for whatever lay ahead. She still felt
partly responsible, especially now she suspected Faron had gone out
and purposely sought the men, but she needed to put on a strong
front.

She jumped
as there was a knock on the door. To her surprise, Sennan was
standing there holding an armful of new clothes. Jillian was
suddenly nervous, this woman’s son had been seriously hurt because
of her, because he had wanted to give her justice for her
treatment. She half-expected to be scolded, or given the cold
shoulder as some of the women had yesterday. Her smile was nervous
as Sennan placed the clothes on the bed, but she stood and held
herself confidently, reluctant to show any cracks, any weaknesses
that could be used against her.

As Sennan straightened up,
Jillian rushed towards her, and hugged her
close.

“
I’m so sorry Faron got hurt. I didn’t know that he was
going to them, I wouldn’t have let him go if I had.” She pleaded,
wanting the respect of this woman more than anything. Wanting
acceptance.

It was with
relief that she felt Sennan’s arms close across her back, rubbing
comfortingly. After a moment, she held Jillian at arm’s length and
looked at her with crinkled amber eyes as non-judgmental and kind
as they had been when she met her.

Sennan spoke a sentence, but it was not in her language
and
Jillian did not
understand it. She had made out the name ‘Faron,’ but that was all.
Sennan had an expectant expression, as if she were waiting for
Jillian’s response. Frowning, Jillian lifted her shoulders in an
apologetic shrug.

“
Faron his own mind,” Sennan tried again. The fluctuating
tone and high pitch had Jillian concentrating hard, trying to
decipher what had been said. As the pieces formed together in her
mind, she figured out that Sennan had been trying to tell her that
Faron made his own decisions
,
that she was not at
fault. But way, way more important than this verbalized
forgiveness, was the realization that Sennan had just spoken to her
in English.

Jillian
was stunned.
More than stunned, she couldn’t believe that the woman knew any
English at all, let alone enough to reply to her statement and
allay her worries. She laughed out loud, delighted at having
someone to communicate with.

“
You speak English?” She
asked her, speaking slowly and clearly, giving her the chance to
understand as best she could.

“
Some.” Sennan waved her hand, acting nonchalant but looking
pleased that Jillian had got what she’d said. Jillian clapped her
hands together. This was perfect, now she could pretend to learn
their language much quicker, if Sennan knew enough English to teach
her the basics. She could just make out that she was a really quick
learner.

“
Dress. I wait.” Sennan proudly instructed her as she closed
the door to offer some privacy and waited outside. Jillian was
excited–happy that her mate’s Mother had not been unkind. Knowing
she had her as an ally made the prospect of facing the rest of the
tribe just that little bit easier than having to do so alone. And
it was so good to be able to converse with someone and be
understood. It was a lonely thing, speaking a different tongue from
your husband.

The sun was already hot as the two walked to the main
hut.
Jillian was getting used
to the persistent red dust that clung to her feet. It was soft to
walk upon, and much nicer looking than the brown dirt of Earth. A
couple of females were by the water pump, and called hellos to
Sennan as they passed. They nodded politely at Jillian. Faron’s
speech having seemed to have been taken on board
—
by those
two, at least.

Sennan explained to her how to say hello.
Firstly
,
by stating the English and then following it
slowly with their own word. Of course, Jillian was more than aware
of this, but spoke it clumsily a few times over, allowing her
Mother-In-law to correct her diction until she got it spot on. The
two smiled at each other as they reached the communal hut, an
unspoken bond between them now.

It was refreshingly cool inside the hut, the chunky stones
and cement giving shelter from the heat of the morning. A few
groups
gathered on some of
the tables–mostly women and the young ones, eating breakfast
leisurely.

To her dismay, Misha was the first
person she saw. She unfurled herself from her seat and glared at
her for a second before leaving the room, her face a picture of
disgust.

Jillian
recognized a
more few faces. The aliens all looked very
similar
. T
here was little variation of their hair color
and athletic forms. But the more time she spent here the more she
saw the tiny things that gave each their individuality. Some had
larger pointed ears, some wider noses or pointier chins. She
noticed Fenn, whose lips were fuller and a deeper pink than some
others. She sat with an elder female and two of the cutest, mini
males played at her feet.

As Fenn
caught her eye, she made her way over. Jillian and Sennan stopped
and Sennan greeted her, inquiring after Ashan.

“
He’s making a good recovery. I’m so thankful. I owe Jillian
an apology probably,” she said, darting her gaze across.

“
I’ll tell her. Although
I’m sure there’s no need for it.” Sennan replied.

“
I
was
angry
.
I took it out on her.” Fenn lifted Jillian’s
hand to her own forehead. It was a gesture she was not familiar
with, but she smiled at Fenn, glad that her animosity had
lifted.

Jillian
’s stomach
grumbled loudly, she had not eaten since lunchtime the day before,
and was ravenous. The rumble was audible to both of the alien
females and the three erupted into laughter, ice well and truly
broken.

Sennan beckoned
Jillian to the door at the top of the hut, and opened it
onto a surprisingly functional kitchen. There was a sturdy table in
the middle – made from red bark, of course, and counters of the
same color lined two of the walls. A female she had not seen before
pounded some kind of dough on top of the table, and then placed it
into a large clay tray. On the counters, shiny domes filled with
hot stones made a kind of hob, Jillian assumed—seeing a pot
bubbling away on one of the stone piles.