Page 6 of Alien Barbarian's Little Human

“I wonder if anyone else made it off the Precursor? Maybe the ship made it to the ground intact enough that someone could have survived…”

“Ship?”

I think of ships as vehicles which travel over the water. Yet I do not think that’s what she means.

“Oh crap. I can’t disrupt the development of this primitive culture,” she says, looking scared. “Look, forget I said anything.”

“You have ships that can fly through the sky like a bird?”

“Oh fuck. Well, the cat’s out of the bag.”

I look around.

“It is? Do you want my help catching it?”

She stops and looks at me with those deep, ice blue eyes. This creature is lovely beyond compare, even if she is a little strange.

Yet, I find I like the strangeness. I think I like her.

“Um, it’s just an expression, a metaphor if you will.”

“Ah, I understand metaphor. Please continue.”

She licks her lips before she speaks.

“Um, look, do you mind if we find somewhere safer, maybe more comfortable to talk? Somewhere with water, preferably?”

That’s not a bad idea, considering we are in Skuyr territory.

“Yes, I think I know of a place. Are you thirsty?”

She nods, and I hand her my leather canteen. The woman takes the cork out and starts to drink, then looks at me with suspicion.

“Had I intended you harm, I could have done so easily many times before now,” I say. “If you wish, I will drink from it first.”

She shakes her head.

“No, that’s not necessary.”

As she slakes her thirst, I speak.

“What is your name?”

She finishes her drink, and hands me the canteen back.

“Micah. What’s yours?”

“Gog.”

“Nice to meet you, Gog. Want to get the Hell out of here?”

I chuckle and nod.

“Please, come this way.”

I lead her back out of the canyon. Her eyes stare hard at the dead Skuyr I left behind, but she does not say anything. I passed another, smaller oasis while tracking her here. That will be our destination.

The oasis sits on the lee side of a craggy peak, which keeps it largely hidden from the Skuyr. When we arrive, our presence startles a Sandjumper. If I’d had my bow strung, I might have brought it down. It would be nice to have meat for dinner.

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