Head Above Water: An MM Alien Science Fiction Romance by J. Evermore

Head Above Water: An MM Alien Science Fiction Romance by J. Evermore

Author:J. Evermore [Evermore, J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-08-14T16:00:00+00:00


TEN

He’s stringing up clusters of hollow branches and large, rattling brown pods on tied-together lengths of vine around the edge of our camp. If the creature is intelligent enough to evade our notice, I don’t think such a low-tech alert system is going to impede it, but I don’t try to stop Sohven. I understand the drive to do something, anything, to feel productive here. Under the circumstances, relaxing seems far too close to giving up.

My index finger taps against the edge of my datapad in swift, frantic movements like the flutter of a bee’s wings as it dips down to gorge itself on pollen. We had them aboard my home station. I remember that now—a massive garden deck and the drone of bees with the concentrated scent of opening flowers thick in the air, unlike the sterility of every other part of the space station. I see it in flashes and bursts. My hands, small and unmarked; extending a finger to brush against the yellow pollen or the silken slip of a bruised petal; the sting when a larger hand swatted away my greedy touch.

That’s all I get when I’m not dreaming—disjointed moments out of context, a few short seconds that explain nothing.

I’ve read through Syall-8B-Notes twice. I understand the words, but they feel just as useless to me as my scattered memories. I still can’t determine what my role was aboard the shipwrecked spacecraft. I wonder if I was really even part of their permanent crew.

I’m a poor writer. Everything in the document is recorded in fragments and phrases, and just when I believe I might have some idea of their meaning, I read something new that turns my assumptions on their head. My notes detail everything from mineral deposits to comments on genitive case in the indigenous languages we observed. Cryptic figures beside what appear to be population groups are written above lists of component identification codes. I force my tapping finger to go still, and it trembles with the effort. I deactivate the datapad with a frustrated sigh and set it aside.

I get up and search out a few thin, sturdy sticks. Sohven finished carving up the carcass, and it’s best I start cooking the meat now if I want it to be done before the night is half over. Chunks of peachy colored meat lie stacked up in neat little pyramids atop four giant-sized, waxy textured leaves near the fire. Sohven’s already buried the scraps and offal, as effortlessly efficient as ever. If my survival didn’t hinge upon his abilities, I might find his easy competence more aggravating, but I’m in no position to complain.

I snap another branch off near the base and add it to the three already in my hand before I turn back for the camp. I spot Sohven adjusting the last of the alarm clusters and grin as I duck beneath the vine rope crossing my path. I’m glad he hasn’t suggested we flee this camp, too. I don’t see that it’d do us any good.



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