Hunted on Predator Planet by Vicky L. Holt

Author:Vicky L. Holt [Holt, Vicky L.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-08-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-One

Esra

“Would you like to hear what I have deduced from the language so far?” VELMA asked me just as the second sun came up.

“Um, how about in two hours? I’m exhausted.” It didn’t matter how much sleep I got, I always felt tired. Plus, I tossed and turned all night, knowing they were right outside my ship. I didn’t know if I should feel safe or oppressed.

“You were snoring. I will run a diagnostic scan for sleep apnea and administer the necessary medicines as needed.”

“No, VELMA, that won’t be necessary. I think I just have some allergies.” Allergies to nosy artificial intelligences. “I don’t suppose you’re going to let me go back to sleep, are you?”

“The hunters outside the EEP are eating a morning meal,” she said. “They appear to be waiting for you.”

I sighed and stood up, stretching. They were the reason I couldn’t sleep. And now the reason I couldn’t sleep in. Somebody was going to pay for this.

I took care of my morning ablutions and then mulled over the idea that kept me up half the night. VELMA reminded me they had interplanetary travel. There were no signs of dwellings on this planet. Presumably, these hulks came from somewhere. I slid open a drawer of pouches and counted them. Took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Was this fun? No. Could I live here for… a while? Yes. I shelved my idea for now.

I peeked out the window again to watch them mill around, scratch themselves and spit. They had constructed a rack over a smoking fire; it appeared they had been smoking meat all night. I raised a brow then turned away. I found the vial of water from yesterday’s adventure and popped it into the analyzer. “VELMA, this sample is from the pool in the spider cave. Check it for precipitates such as calcite.”

The analysis wasn’t necessary for my survival. Just my curiosity.

I reviewed my new to-do list. Reframe my life on a predator planet. Make friends with the warriors. Finagle another bath, although I’d probably have to go without soap. I wouldn’t want to kill the harmless jam blobs.

I paced inside my pod. I needed to go out and face them. I needed to prove to them I was valuable. But how? I rapped the wall of my pod with my knuckle and took a deep breath. It was go-time.

“Naraxthel?”

He stepped from behind my pod, bigger than I remembered. More handsome than I remembered, and that was strange because, you know, different evolutionary path and all that.

“Esra?” He crooked his brows and cocked his head.

I offered him a pouch of hydrated scrambled eggs. I searched out the others and noted one stood aloof and three others stood together murmuring among themselves.

Naraxthel took my offering with a gracious nod. I strode to the group of three and offered them food as well. I watched the play of emotion on their faces, amused to recognize discomfort as they shuffled, frowned and avoided eye contact. They didn’t like the food.

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