The Kindness of Strangers in a Strange Land

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. The fact is, if they could hear you, they’d be too busy screaming themselves hoarse to save your ass. Land on an alien planet or two and you’ll get an earful.

At another crashing sound in the forest, Ed Parker unhooked the spring catch on his stinger holster and lifted his face shield as he stumbled after Julung toward Ezikay Village. Alert to every sound, she swung about, paused to see he was still behind her and kept going. All this was easy going for her, as her splayed, flexible feet afforded her an advantage at navigating the upper surface of the network of roots and vines covering the forest floor. His heavy boots, ankle ringed with shock wires to ward off slime bugs, caught on everything and made him blunder through the brush like a tipsy gronkodork.

By the time they’d come scarcely two kilometers to the riverbank, he was gasping for breath in the heavy humidity. Julung, too, was breathing hard, although she could release most of her body heat through her puffing throat-sac which glowed greenish white with fear. If they didn’t emerge from the forest by nightfall, there wouldn’t be a grease stain left of them by morning.

The Deebo female clicked her impatience. “Hurry, Eddo Pakka, before the Yashi eat your ass!”

“They’re welcome to it,” he grumbled, and would have said more if he had breath to spare.

Julung stopped at the riverside, frowning with her upper central eye, while her two lateral eyes scanned the forest behind them. “See that arcturus?” she said, gesturing at a toothed bird-like beast a meter long with filmy grey wings. “Kill it for an offering.”

Ed dropped it with one shot. As she loped off to retrieve the carcass, he watched the creatures for whom it was meant roll playfully in the shallows. Gwokee long ago had warned him never to attempt crossing the river without paying the river guardians, but this was the first time Ed had ever seen them. Although the Deebo name for them translated to “mermaids,” they were about as far from fetching water sprites as you could get. The fangs alone were enough to tamp down any romantic notions.

Julung tossed the carcass into the stream and called out, “Ota Miri, take our offering for safe passage.”

One of the things caught the arcturus in its fanged maw as the others stared balefully at Ed. There was a tense moment before he received the telepathic transmission: Go with grace.

The river bottom was muddy and the current heavier than expected as Ed dragged himself across collapsing on the opposite bank. The Deebo fairly skipped across, landing next to him, and flicked her prehensile tail impatiently.

At 968 Earth years, Ed was the oldest man in the known world, older than the primitive SSRs who snorted yogurt and disgraced their sheep. Running like this through a hostile environment made him feel nine times 968 in real time.

Julung grinned and laid her tail’s abu pad against his neck. “I hope you have more stamina than this when we get to my dwelling place, Eddo,” she said huskily.

“I’ll manage,” he grumbled.

Unfazed, she said, “Look, Eddo, I’m strong. Let me carry you.”

“And be the first man in interstellar space exploration to let his girlfriend carry him across the threshold? What do you think I am?”

She laughed lightly and with pleasure. “You make me feel orange all over, but if you expect to make slippie-slippie with me, it would be best to do it with everything intact. Quite impossible if the Yashi catch us out here after dark.”

“Are you sure it’s safe for me in Ezikay Village? Your father can’t be pleased I failed to produce weapons for his war against the Bari, and if he finds out about our…”

“Romantic dalliance?” she grinned. “He won’t care. It is expected for my sisters and me to take lovers.”

Her self-assurance gave him no reasonable opportunity to balk further, but his mind was not at rest. This trip to Ngkaka VII had been plagued with glitches and Julung seemed too readily a palliative for his loneliness.

Almost all the Ngkakans he had befriended for System had died since his last visit 132 years ago. The sole exception was the shaman Gwokee, whose personal supply of sarco-stones would last him a millennium. So, when Ed made planetfall below the gold-flecked sky four months ago, he was cheerfully greeted by his old sorcery teacher and a gaggle of giggling young women.

Julung stood out among others with her regal posture and slightly sardonic grin. She’d hovered around him ever since, becoming increasingly bold. Pursuing her was not out of the question, but he’d learned to take it easy with the local talent, especially since her father Wayzee was something of a big deal in these parts.

Shortly after he landed, Wayzee and some of the other elders met him at the energy field surrounding his ship.

The elder greeted him in a high-pitched voice, “Eddo Pakka.”

“Wayzee,” Ed replied.

This formality out of the way, Ed squatted on the blue soil beside the chief, who lay his foot-long abu along Ed’s spine, sending a shudder of physical delight throughout his body. He was surprised that Wayzee extended his hospitality so soon. On his last visit, it had taken Ed months to get to this stage of familiarity.

“We have come for your help, Eddo,” said Wayzee.

A poker-hot surge of pleasure emanated from the chief’s abu assaulting Ed’s senses.

“How can I help?” Ed asked, holding his palms upward.

The elders whistle-clicked all at once until Wayzee silenced them. “By now, Eddo Pakka, you know from your friend Gwokee that our people have been at war for a long time.”

“Aye-wo,” Ed replied.

“Your ship has much power, Eddo. We see you have servants of metal to do your bidding. This is marvelous to us. You also have the power to stun or kill us with your stinger weapon. That, too, is marvelous. Look at us, Eddo. We have nothing but spear-swords, so the savage Bari kill many of our people. We are helpless to stop them. But you, Eddo Pakka, you can demolish our enemies with your killing light.”

“The Bari are my friends, too, though,” said Ed.

“We wish to buy your exclusive friendship,” said Wayzee. “We offer sarco-stones and other treasures precious beyond measure in your world. You would return home a god to your people.”

Ed was cautious. “Let me think about it for a month,” he said. Then I will return to Ezikay Village with my decision. Agreed?”

The elders were not pleased, but one sensible old man replied, “That is not the best answer, Eddo Pakka, but it will do. When you come to us, you must travel for a league through Yashi country, so you will need a guide. Travel only by daylight. Your guide will remind you.”

Ed’s guide, predictably, turned out to be Julung.

Now the month was up, and Ed stumbled after the fleet-footed female toward the fire perimeter of Ezikay Village with the threat of a grisly death by poisonous Yashi at his heels.

They entered the village as darkness fell. The sentries ignored them as Julung grasped his hand and led him behind a row of houses to a small hut set apart from the others. Ed knew from past experience: it was a lover’s trysting place.

Once inside, an attendant appeared with a pail of cool, perfumed water and a cloth. Julung took them waving her away. She removed her clothes, then his and began to bathe him.

“Julung…” he whispered.

She laughed and pressed her three right breasts against his body flattening her abu across his belly. Weary or not, he was soon panting with eagerness. The attendant returned with a cup and handed it to Julung who pressed it to his lips. The drink it held was cool, spicy, and yet curiously warming. As he gulped it down, it hit his stomach like a bomb, denotating throughout his system and making his head feel three times its size. Dizzied, he reached for Julung but nearly fell on his face before she caught him and held his cheek against her breasts.

“Oh, my darling Eddo! I am sorry. You must believe me,” she murmured.

Sorry? he wondered. Why?

He woke up screaming, the hut brightly lit and filled with people. They had strapped him to the sleeping platform with his genitals held in some kind of fiendish clamp. Wayzee loomed over him, spitting mad, “Alien scum! How dare you assault my favorite wife!”