Page 6 of Protected By the Alien Warmachine

After that came the battery of medical tests, to check if I’d picked up some Ancient nano-virus or something. Next to useless, as our medic Cho admitted while he administered them. If the Ancients wanted to hide something from us, human technology wouldn’t find it.

Still, I appeared to be in fine health. Cho checked me out twice a day, annoying but thorough, and meanwhile I sat through interviews that felt more like interrogations. Everyone had their own spin on their questions, but the one thing everyone agreed on was keeping me from going back into the crypt. Intellectually, I understood. I wasn’t objective, I might be compromised, and I couldn’t be trusted to act professionally.

On a personal level, it wasn’t so simple. I longed to see Kal’va again, to be with him, to feel his touch. I wanted to study him, of course, but that was a distant second behind the intimacy I craved, which made me a terrible researcher. Reluctantly, I stayed away, and tried to keep my mind off the magnificent alien monster by studying other finds.

Futile, obviously. Not only was he all anyone wanted to talk about, and I couldn’t get my mind off him. Every spare moment, he was on my mind. Every night, he was in my dreams.

At least I got to watch some footage of Kal’va, collected by drone. All it did was whet my appetite for more—the alien who’d so effectively ravished me sat unmoving at the far end of his crypt from the breach. Light playing through his crystals was the only sign of life, shifting colors illuminating him andthe surrounding stone. I dove into those, wringing every bit of meaning I could from the scans.

“What’s he doing?”Jules asked one morning over breakfast. Her main holoscreen displayed Kal’va, still motionless, and the side displays showed the energy fields around him. Those were active, pulsing and changing, from radio waves to x-rays. If the drone got too close, the displays melted into static, so Jules kept it well away.

“How would I know?” I grumbled into my coffee cup. I hadn’t slept well, which always left me grouchy. “It’s not like Waterman lets me talk to him or anything. I know less about him than you do, and I’m supposed to be your boss.”

“Oh, stop it.” Juliette threw a roll at me to emphasize her words. “Don’t mope just because you can’t visit your boyfriend and get the dick you need. The rest of us left our partners behind, you’ve had more action than we’ve seen in months! You’ll have plenty of chances to learn more soon. It’s not like he’s responded to anything else yet, just you. Your career’s set for life, even aside from the…other benefits.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks, and I fought the urge to hide my face. I tried to make a joke out of it. “If I don’t get arrested for fucking with Ancient tech, you mean?”

I said tried, right? Not my fault if my sense of humor wasn’t at its best. Jules snickered anyway, toasting my poor joke with her mug.

“You’ve got access to all the same data as we do,” she pointed out. “Plus a little extra from fucking with Ancient technology. If you’ve got any insights, I’d love to hear them.”

I sighed and nodded. My only hypothesis was crazy, but maybe Jules would talk some sense into me.

“The weird thing is, I can’t see any evidence he’s breathing. Or has a heartbeat. And he hasn’t eaten or drunk anything, right? It’s like some of his biological processes are happening somewhere else.”

Jules opened her mouth, shut it with a snap, and tried again. “I want to say that’s a stupid idea, but I don’t have a better explanation.”

“Fuck, I kind of hoped you’d talk me out of this idea.” I sighed, rubbed my face, and then pushed ahead. “The hyperwave fields link him to those jars on the wall behind him. I think his heart is in one.”

Scrunching up her face, Jules started to object, but whatever she was about to say got drowned out by a burst of static from both of our comms. I winced at the noise and answered as fast as I could so it would shut up.

“This had better be a goddamn emergency,” I snapped. “That hurt.”

“Boss, yeah, uh, you’d better get up here?” Paulo. Of course, I’d picked the youngest and most sensitive undergrad to shout at. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice. Unfortunately, that meant whatever was on his mind probablywasa goddamn emergency. I didn’t waste any time on asking more questions, I just put down my coffee and ran.

Something about the tomb interfered with radio, so our comms tent was the one part of our camp we had to leave on the surface, tucked between the ruins of cyclopean buildings to shelter it from passing storms. Most of the team had gathered there by the time I arrived, and I shoved my way through to seethe hologram display showing a yellow dot moving toward our location.

“They’re about five minutes out,” Paulo said. “No ID codes, no communication, nothing.”

“Definitely headed here.” Doctor Marcus Waterman, stating the obvious as usual. With literally nothing else for hundreds of miles, where else could they be going? I sighed. If we didn’t need an accredited doctor of xenoarchaeology to sign our paperwork, he wouldn’t be here.

“I don’t like that they’re not talking,” Paulo said. “I’ve been trying them for the last ten minutes.”

“Stuff and nonsense. Their comms equipment is malfunctioning, that’s all, and they obviously have news for us.”

“Then why didn’t anyone call to tell us they’re coming?” I asked. Behind his scraggly beard, Marcus’s cheeks reddened, and I tried to crush a brief flash of vindictive glee at the sight. He was happy to dismiss someone else’s theories, but woe to anyone who suggested he might be mistaken about a single thing.

“That just…” he paused, looked around, and started over. “The equipment failure must be on our end, not theirs. We’re not receiving calls because we can’t.”

Paulo muttered something under his breath. I didn’t speak Portuguese, but I recognized swearing in any language. Putting a steadying hand on his shoulder, I met Marcus’s gaze.

“We’ve kept on top of maintenance. There are no error messages. Everything else is working fine. I don’t appreciate your insinuation about Paulo’s competence, Marcus.”

Again, his face darkened, and this time, his eyes narrowed to slits. His attention laser-focused on me, he stepped closer.

“That’sDoctor Waterman,”he said, or snarled. “Remember who’s in charge of this expedition.”

Sure. You didn’t find this site or put together the expedition. I did all of that. You’re just here to make it legal.It was frustrating as hell, but what could I do?

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