Page 7 of Caveman Alien's Terror

I wipe the usual moisture off my face. “I practically told her to get lost. There were so many better ways to help her do her share.”

“There is always a better way to do things,” Bryar says calmly. “But sometimes there is no bettertime. Your actions sound fine to me, Astrid. Tough, but fine. We didn’t pick this planet. And it’s an evil fucking place. Nobody can be weak here. Everyone has to carry their load. I hate to say this, but in tough environments thereisgoing to be some culling of a random group like that. Not everyone is strong enough to make it. And those who are strong enough can’t afford to carry dead weight. Not on Xren. Sorry, I don’t mean to insult your friend. Just stating the facts.”

I take a deep breath. “Thanks. Yeah, I know. It’s an evil planet. But that doesn’t meanwehave to be evil, too.”

“She may still be out there somewhere,” Bryar says and spears the last of the filled not-peppers. “Speaking as your friend, Ithink you should put it behind you. Not for yourself. Forus. We need you at your best. The girls and the tribe. May I be brutally honest?”

“Please be.”

She takes hold of my hand, her thumb stroking me soothingly. “You’ve obviously been in a bit of a funk ever since I first met you. And even so, you’re the smartest and most accomplished of us. I’d love to see who you can be if you’re able to snap out of that sadness. If you can.”

I nod. “If I can.”

Her hand goes to her mouth. “Oh God. Did I just tell you to ‘just snap out of it’? Sorry, that didn’t sound good. What I mean is?—”

I squeeze her hand. “No, what you said is true. You’re right. I’ll do whatever I can to put this behind me. I’ve been a downer on everyone for too long.”

“In your own time.Ifyou can. The girls and I will help you in any way you let us.” She holds out the skewer. “Here, take the last one.”

I accept it, but my appetite is gone and my guilty conscience is flaring up. “Thanks.”

“I’ll start frying some filets. That’s one good thing about being pregnant, Astrid. I can eat whatever I want all day long, and nobody will complain. I never move from this spot, just keep cooking and eating.”

I give her a pale smile. “Fine, fine. You sold me on the pregnancy thing. Who do I see about that?”

Bryar grins. “I only know one guy, but I make sure he has his hands full with me. You have to make your own arrangements.”

After a while I wander down to my own cave. Luna stands guard at the opening, but she reluctantly lets me in and then attacks the piece of grilled gristle I toss to her.

I lie down on my low, fur-covered cot. Bryar’s words made me feel better, but I know it won’t last. I saw Cora’s eyes. Bryar didn’t.

Sitting back up, I grab the salen fruit.Here is your wish,he said. He must have heard Alba and me talking about wanting a salen fruit to eat.

He may have just arrived from space. I should try to get hold of him and just ask if he has a spaceship. And I should do it before he’s hunted down by the tribes. That could happen at any time, now that Korr’ax knows he’s around.

I bring the fruit to my nose. It smells heavenly, fresh and floral and sweet.

Turning it around in my hand, I see no puncture mark or any brown spots. It’s a pristine fruit that doesn’t look tampered with at all. And what would be the point?

“Hey, Luna.”

She turns her small, sleek predator head. Three of her ears twitch, while the fourth stays pointed at the entrance.

“What do you think of this?” I hold the salen fruit out to her.

She sniffs it and loses interest.

“Is that a go or a no go?” I persist. “Or is it just that you don’t care for fruit? If I die from poisoning, I’ll absolutely blame you for it and I’ll haunt you so hard.”

I bite a small piece off the fruit and suck on it.

My eyes widen as a symphony of flavors explodes across my taste buds. Sweetness, tanginess, and a subtle floral note dance together, each more exquisite than the last. As I bite into it fully, the fruit's juice, cool and refreshing, cascade down my throat, leaving a lingering aftertaste that’s both exotic and familiar.

“No wonder this is sacred,” I mutter. “It’s incredible. Sure you don’t want some?”

Luna rolls all three eyes like a teenager and lies down, ignoring me.

“Suit yourself.” I want to share the experience with someone. But if there is something wrong with the fruit, I don’t want to risk the health of my friends. I’m a shaman, so I’m expected to take some risks. A shaman should know what the sacred fruit tastes like.

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