Page 4 of Alien Mine

His ribs throbbed and ached, but they weren’t broken. He pushed himself to his feet and stared down at Rachel, the mother of the child he was to protect. She was more than a head shorter than him and spare with her weight over a medium frame. Her hair swung in loose, burnished gold waves to her shoulders. Pain stabbed unexpectedly through his temples.Honey. Her hair was the color of a native liquid sweetener called honey, the byproduct of insects feeding.

It wasn’t the most bizarre food substance he’d ever heard of, but it wasn’t what he’d expected a post-industrial civilization on the verge of space travel to eat.

Rachel’s wide mouth opened, then closed, and her golden skin flushed pink.

Dyuvad set his curiosity aside for another time. Staring was rude in most human cultures. Maybe it was here, too, or maybe his attention upset her. “My apologies, Lady Rachel. I meant no offense.”

Thick eyelashes swept down, hiding expressive green eyes. “You wanted to see the room.”

“Yes. I would like to retrieve my bag first, please.”

“Um.” She swung toward the white, one-story dwelling her daughters had disappeared into. “Ok. You might as well meet the girls now.”

She clomped toward the house, more determined than graceful, and led him up a well-worn, dirt path from the animal enclosure he’d landed on toward her home. Rusted metal slats capped the roof, their undulating gleam interrupted by two brick chimney stacks. A covered porch wrapped around the exterior, its paint faded and chipped. Flowers of every color were planted in well-tended beds abutting the porch. Their fragrance wafted through the moist air, mingling with the mineral scent of freshly turned dirt and the faint odor of rotting manure.

Dyuvad inhaled deeply. Earth’s flora and fauna were largely different than Abyw’s, but the smells were similar. A sudden longing washed over him, to be at home on his parents’ farm tending molnog, felling trees for lumber, nurturing the land as his father’s family had for generations.

He still hadn’t figured out what he was supposed to protect Rachel’s daughter from, but maybe now he knew why he, or someone like him, had been selected. In spite of their culture’s level of urbanization and technology, Rachel and her daughters appeared to live a rural lifestyle, much as he had for the better part of his youth. Earth itself might be unfamiliar, but the work required to manage a farm such as this one was not. He couldeasily blend in here, and if he was careful, no one would ever guess his true origins.

His shoulders relaxed as he walked up the steps behind Rachel into her home. Her daughters sat at a small, square table set off to one side of… His temple pinged and the appropriate word popped into his head. Kitchen. Which he could’ve guessed without the pain. Kraden autolearner.

As soon as he and Rachel entered, the little girls scrambled away from his bag planted dead center on the table. The eldest blinked wide, brown eyes at him. The youngest, his assignment, stuck a chubby finger in her mouth and cocked her head to the side.

Rachel drew to a stop behind the youngest girl’s chair and placed both of her square-palmed hands on its back. “Girls, this is Mr. ab Mhij. He’s thinking about renting our spare room.”

“Dyuvad, please,” he said. “There is no need for formality among us.”

Rachel glanced away and her skin flushed again.

His muscles tightened, aggravating the muted throb along his left flank where he’d tumbled into the wooden post. “I meant no offense.”

“None was taken. These are my girls.” She nodded at the eldest. “Kelly, honey, go get dressed. We’ve got work to do. Take Tiny with you.”

“Yes’m.” Kelly slid off her seat and held a narrow hand out to him. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Dyuvad.”

He took her hand, bowed, and pressed its back briefly to his forehead. “The pleasure is mine, Lady Kelly.”

“Uh.” She peeked at her mother over her shoulder and lowered her voice to a quavering whisper. “Mama?”

“He’s being polite, that’s all,” Rachel said. “Go on, now. You, too, Tiny.”

Kelly slid her hand out of his and left. Tiny clamored off the chair and toddled out of the room behind her sister.

Rachel snagged his bag and handed it to him. “Sorry about the girls. They’re not used to being around men outside offamily.”

“I am not accustomed to being around young girls,” he admitted.

“They won’t bother you unless you let them. Come on.”

He slung his pack over one shoulder and followed her back outside. She led him around her abode along the covered porch and opened a door on its adjacent side. “It’s not much, but you’ll have your privacy and can come and go as you please.”

He ducked into the room behind her and studied its sparse furnishings. A wrought-iron bed wide enough for two was tucked into the far corner, covered by a patchwork quilt in blues and golds. A free-standing lamp sat on a short wooden table next to the bed. A battered chest of drawers stood at the foot of the bed, separated by enough space to pull out any of the four drawers. A small couch was against the wall to his left, facing the bed over another wooden table, this one much lower to the ground.

A waist-high metal cabinet was in the remaining corner. Dyuvad opened its door. Cool air drifted out, and he grunted. A refrigeration unit. Handy.

Rachel pointed to the two doors set in the wall opposite the entrance. “There’s a full bathroom behind the door on the left. The other one is a small closet. There are some good restaurants in town when you get hungry or you can eat with us for a little more money each month and some help with the chores.”

“I would prefer to eat with your family.”

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