Page 13 of Rebirth

I can tell this is an insanely intelligent being.

But the way he looks at me, like he’s looking at me now, I feel like I’m in the presence of something that’s much less evolved than the being speaking to me. Something barbaric. Something carnal. Something reduced to just basic instincts, wants, and needs.

And yet still, I draw closer.

“I’m Sophie.”

“Soh’fee.”

Pure richness, the way he says my name. It makes me pause as I study him.

He told me not to run. There was a warning in there. One that makes awareness settle in my spine.

I can’t take my eyes off him. Not for a second.

“You know, technically, you’re supposed to say hello when you first meet someone. We got off on the wrong foot.”

No reply.

“What are you looking for out here?”

His eyes are ice blue. So glacial, they chill the air around us.

Up close, I can see the ridges that pattern across his body even more clearly. Their purpose is unknown to me. They seem almost reptilian, and so do his eyes.

Slitted, a nictitating membrane slides over their surface as he blinks at me.

The movement is almost unnerving. Would be unnerving if I wasn’t so transfixed. Mesmerized. Those icy eyes catch the light through the trees as he turns his gaze upon me, scrutinizing me so much I become aware of my much frailer form. And when I come to a stop just about a foot away from him, there’s a slight movement that travels over his skin.

I suppress a shiver at this reminder of how inhuman he truly is. How vulnerable I am in his presence.

And yet, my curiosity still wins out. I remind myself there are humans in the camp. Happy humans. Living humans. And that this creature, this male, is one of many who came here and fought for my planet.

Those thoughts echo in my head like some kind of mantra as I crouch, watching for any sign of aggression, but he remains still. Waiting. Eyes tracking my every move.

“Are you digging for something?” I’m prying. I know. But I want him to speak again. I want to learn. About him. About his existence.

He’s something we’ve hypothesized. Yet, he came to save us.

What else is out there? What else do we not know? What else can we hardly imagine?

“I am searching for…something I sensed.” His words are slow, halting, as though translating his thoughts is a laborious process. “A disruption.” His gaze falls back to the ground. “A disturbance.”

With his intense gaze away from me, I can’t help but stare at him.

Two small tentacles dance at the corners of his mouth, twisting as if uncontrolled and working by pure motor neurons firing independent of his input.

“A disturbance?”

I watch them flex and sway, mesmerized by their constant motion. I want to ask him if they function as sensory organs, tasting chemicals in the air to gather information, even when he remains still. But that is only one question assailing my mind.

“Affirmative.” He notices my scrutiny and the tentacles pause, their incessant dance faltering under my gaze.

I pull my attention away, hoping I haven’t offended him with my staring, but silence descends between us.

I clear my throat. “What is the disturbance?”

My question takes effort. Focus. When all I’d rather do is ask him about other things. Like where he came from. How he found us here.

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