Page 18 of Alien Barbarian's Little Human

“Well, that bullshit stops right now,” I say, taking his hand in both of my own. He looks up, lips slightly parted. “From now on, you’re going to share with me what’s going on in your head. Understand? You can’t keep it all bottled up. Suffering Shorcu, Gog. No wonder you’re so damn sad all the time.”

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“I am seldom sad when I am with you, Micah.”

My heart does that fluttery thing again. Damn, he’s so amazing, and heroic, and, yes, gorgeous. I almost can’t think when I look into those incredible purple eyes.

“Okay, stop being sweet for a minute. Otherwise I might kiss you again, and I need to pee far too urgently for that to happen.”

“The privy is beyond that archway,” he says, pointing at one of the hide coverings. I now realize they’re not decoration, they function as doors.

The privy is surprisingly comfortable, though my legs kind of dangle off the end of the commode. It’s sort of like an outhouse, except that an underground stream appears to rush and burble beneath. A clever way to achieve indoor plumbing, used by some of ancient Earth cultures as well.

When I return, I find Gog setting out a cold meal. Preserved meats, wedges of something that looks like cheese, and slices of crusty bread make my mouth water.

“How long was I out?” I ask.

“For all of last night and half of today.”

“Man. That’s the best sleep I’ve had in, well, ever.”

He watches while I try the food. The meat has a flavor akin to salt. Some similar preservative mineral, probably. But it’s palatable enough, and the little cheese things turn out to be delightfully creamy and sweet.

The bread, though, is unleavened and kind of hard. I have to soak it in my cup of water to get it to a point I can actually ingest it.

“I’m sorry about your parents, Micah.”

My gaze snaps up to him.

“What? How did you…oh, the Tree.”

I sigh and shrug.

“It was a long time ago, Gog. I’ve learned to cope.”

“But it is still a terrible tragedy. I know all too well. My own parents were lost in a Skuyr attack when I was quite young.”

“Oh, Gog. We really are a mess, aren’t we?”

“No. I am a mess. You are perfect.”

I blow out a razz.

“Oh please, I’m anything but. I’m a neurotic, persnickety nerd who runs her mouth too much.”

“I disagree. Despite your many tragedies, you remain good hearted.”

“How do you know? We only met a few days ago.”

He shrugs those massive shoulders.

“I just know.”

“Well, thanks. I think you’re good hearted, too.”

He smiles, and we finish our meal. Over the next few days, I slowly acclimate to Redcliffe village. My arrival has caused quite a stir, and yet the Drokan keep a respectful distance. I know they have questions, I mean, who wouldn’t?

Chief Ral sends his fastest scouts to look for more survivors of the Precursor. Unfortunately, it soon becomes clear that my escape pod was the only one that made it off before the ship crossed over a vast sea.

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