Page 22 of Stranded with the Alien

She stayed that way for an hour, maybe two, she couldn’t tell. Eventually, tired of her own self-pity, she pulled on her missing boot and went out to the half-buried Viper.

She may as well finish excavating it. She had nothing better to do and frankly, they were going to need more food and water. She had no idea what Vraxian rations were like but they surely couldn’t be any worse than her SDF mush.

She was also aware that she needed to do something to keep her mind busy or she’d just sink into depression. So she worked doggedly, hour after hour, moving the rubble rock by rock, stopping only to take precious sips of water.

By late afternoon she’d succeeded in unearthing the cockpit. Clambering cautiously on to the wing, she peered inside.

It was a mess. The instrument panel was wrecked and most of the interior was crushed. The whole of the interior was coated in fine rock dust. If the Vraxian hadn’t ejected he would have been pulverized.

There didn’t look to be anything she could use. But it was possible there were storage compartments which she couldn’t see.

Carefully she slid into the cockpit, noting it was far roomier than her little Merlin. If there’d still been a seat in here, she wouldn’t have been able to reach the flight controls. Not surprising, when you considered Vraxians were over two meters tall.

She skated her hands over the inner hull, searching for any sections which might open. It wasn’t until she examined the floor where the ejected seat would have been that she found something.

A broken panel slid back grudgingly, creaking every inch of the way. Underneath was a shiny black case, miraculously undented.

It had to be the Viper’s survival kit.

Kara realized it was probably meant to attach to the bottom of the pilot seat and go with it when it ejected, but the mechanism had been damaged. Maybe in the firefight above the planet before they both crashed. Maybe even by her last missile.

She snorted. Nowthatwould be ironic.

She dragged the case out, suddenly excited. Her stomach had been rumbling for a couple of hours now and she could really use some food. Who knew, maybe there was a three course meal in there. Unlikely, but a girl could dream.

The disappointment was like a physical slap. The contents of the case were precisely this: a large block of cushioning material with a single syringe nestled in the center.

Kara was bewildered. Some kind of minimalist first aid kit? But where was the food? And the water? What kind of crappy survival kit was this?

She was tempted to leave it where it was but there was always the off-chance the syringe contained some super-drug that might come in useful.

She made a final check, hoping against hope some hidden panel would suddenly open, revealing a smorgasbord of edible goodies. But there was nothing. Nada. Zilch.

Grumpily, she dragged the case back to the cave and threw it into one corner, too tired to be gentle with it. The Vraxian was exactly where she’d left him.

His scales looked a little healthier, or at least they’d regained some of their former blue tint which she presumed was a good sign. But when she laid her hand on the ridges of his forehead, she found his skin was cold.

Maybe that’s how they fought infection. Humans got a fever, Vraxians got a chill. To be honest, she hadn’t a clue. SDF tutorials were more focused on killing aliens, not treating them. She touched his cheek. Yep, definitely frosty.

The alien’s eyes suddenly opened and she started. For a moment they simply looked at each other, her hand still on his cheek. She wondered if he knew where he was.

Then they closed again. He gave a low groan, though from pain or discomfort she wasn’t sure. He shifted, bending then straightening, muttering unintelligible gibberish. A tentacle snaked round her wrist and she bit back a cry.

He was delirious, that was all. It would pass when the infection did.

She gently removed the appendage, noticing how it tapered to a slim tip. On one side, the last two to three inches weren’t smooth but covered in dozens of curious little raised bumps.

She was tempted to run her finger over them to see how they felt but then remembered Vraxian tentacles contained venom. She laid it on the ground and stood up.

Christ, she was knackered. Her back ached. Her arm was bruised a deep purple where the feral hound-beast had bitten it. Her foot was sore. And – she sniffed her armpit – she stank.

She had maybe half an hour of daylight left. Hobbling down to the hot pools, she stripped off her clothes. Well, it wasn’t as if anyone was watching. With a blissful sigh she walked naked into the steaming water.

The bubbles caressed her skin and sloughed away the grime in cloudy spirals. Such a shame you couldn’t drink the planet’s water, she thought. Too sulfurous and no doubt teeming withbacteria. Tomorrow she’d have to go on a proper hunt for a fresh water supply. There had to be one. There were other living creatures here, after all.

She tried not to think about how long she might be here. How long she might be trapped with the alien.

Trying to distract herself she washed her clothes out, methodically scrubbing at stains until the dirt and sweat were just pale remnants. Then she laid them across boulders to dry and hopped back into the pool.

---