Page 115 of Homebound
“I’ve never been there,” the inane words fell out of her mouth.
“I know.” He didn’t sound amused. He sounded serious. “It will be a good place for you.”
“But I… will be the only human among Rix. And I’ve only met one of you in my entire life.”
“You will adapt. You’ll be accepted.”
Gemma didn’t know what to say. Enzomora? It sounded awfully far away. She wasn’t sure on what side of the Universe the planet was located.
“I can’t stay here,” Simon quietly explained. “Sooner or later, Dr. Delano will hunt me down. And you can’t survive without me.”
“If you feel responsible for me, Simon, please, don’t. I’ll find another job. I’ll find a way to survive.”
“Let me put it another way. I don’t want you to have to survive. Not without me.”
They stood there looking at each other until Gemma dropped her gaze. He moved then, taking several steps away, giving her space.
“We will use this to get away,” he pointed at a clunky cylindrical form that leaned drunkenly against a pile of rusted rubble.
Gemma squinted in the dull evening light to make sense of the contraption. “What is it?”
“A ship.”
The “ship,” to her, looked like an enlarged janitorial bucket from the prison. If one had unencumbered imagination augmented by smoking high-quality contraband dope, it was possible to envision it take flight.
“No way.”
Simon gave her what she interpreted as a condescending look. “It’s in a workable condition. I was very lucky to find it.”
“It looks nothing like a spaceship.” The ones she had seen from a distance at the docks, although of variable formations, were all sleek and designed for light-speed. How something resembling an early prototype for a sweeper could leave the ground, much less tear out of an atmosphere, she couldn't fathom. If Simon was serious about going off in this contraption, he must have grossly exaggerated his experience with the intergalactic flight.
“It looks old.” She knew she sounded dubious.
“It is,” Simon acknowledged.
“It’s probably broken.”
“It does need some work.”
Filled with uncertainty, Gemma approached the contraption and inspected a faded inscription on its side: BUTAN.
“Is it what it was called?”
Simon wasn’t interested in the name. “Probably. I can’t read your language. It wasn’t originally a human ship. I figure it was stolen.”
“Maybe it was a gift,” Gemma felt compelled to defend her fellow humans.
“It’s obvious humans attempted to modify this craft to fit their physical characteristics. They couldn't make it work. It doesn't sound like a gift.”
“Are you assuming?”
His lip twitched like he wanted to smile. “A little. It’s a ship made by Pfau. Pfau no longer exist as a nation, after their planet lost its air shield because of a virus that infected the water streams.” His tone was matter-of-fact.
Gemma shivered. “This is so scary. One day you have your home, and the next - it’s gone.”
Simon shrugged. “They all died. That made it easy for them in the long run. After the word spread of their demise, everyone who could space-travel descended on their planet to raid their infrastructure and loot their goods. I can almost guarantee you this Butan was part of some enterprising human’s bounty. Pfau's inventions were genius but very unique, and only a few other races know how to work them. Humans don’t.”
“And you do?”
