Page 34 of Stranded with the Alien

It was true. It had to be true. Why else would Vraxians attack Earth? Why else had there been so many years of war?

“I don’t want to talk about this any more,” she said flatly. “We’re supposed to be having a truce.”

She marched faster, putting some distance between her and Vahn. He didn’t attempt to stop her.

“As you wish, human,” he murmured.

Eighteen

They stopped at sundown before reaching the spindly outcrop of trees, not wanting to spend the night in the hunting ground of the arachnids. Kara looked round the scrubby vegetation. There was no shelter anywhere. Not even a shrub big enough to crawl under.

“Shall I make a fire?” she asked. “Might keep the nasties away.”

“A fire is always welcome,” said Vahn. “I shall set up camp.”

Kara laughed.

“Camp? Are you going to magic a log cabin out of thin air? Maybe a luxury marquee?”

He ignored her.

Finding a relatively flat area of ground, he removed something from his belt and placed it at his feet. Kara saw it was the thing he’d found on his Viper. She’d assumed it was a bag or a pouch, but now she saw it was a brown square of fabric with a small black disc in the centre.

A handkerchief? She opened her mouth to say something scathing – and stayed that way when he pressed his thumb against the disc.

Like an optical illusion, the fabric began to move and grow. Slim rods erupted from all sides, lengthening and curving to meet at the top until they formed a semi-circular frame. The fabric flowed up and around the entire structure, creating a perfectly enclosed domed shelter.

Kara realized her mouth was still open and closed it hurriedly. Where there’d been a tiny scrap of cloth was now a sturdy-looking tent.

Vahn raised a brow.

“What is wrong? Do you not have expanding nanomaterials on Earth?”

Smug bastard.

“Of course we do. In a variety of colors.”

“I am sure.”

Kara stalked off to find some largeish rocks. She arranged them into a circular fire-pit, then put whatever twigs and brush she could gather in the centre. A low setting on her pulse blaster ignited it immediately.

As the suns disappeared they sat next to the comforting warmth of the burning embers and sipped from the last canister of water. By mutual consent they didn’t eat their remaining rations. They both knew their last meal was coming and they wanted to put it off for as long as possible.

Kara shifted uncomfortably on the stony ground.

“No comfy chairs hidden in your pocket?” she quipped. “Couple of sleeping bags, maybe?”

The Vraxian frowned.

“Your questions are clearly nonsensical, human.”

“I’m joking, obviously. Jesus. Don’t you evil alien overlords have jokes?”

“Jokes? Hmm. My translation microbes define jokes as ‘something said to provoke laughter, humorous untruths, or ludicrous exaggerations.’ I see. Yes, we have jokes on Vraxos.”

“Then tell me one. A Vraxian joke. Anything. What jokes do your kids tell?”

He thought for a moment.

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