Page 150 of Planet Zero
“No. But you… can’t. And you’re wearing yourself to the bone.”
“But…” She started and stopped, her mind offering no viable argument.
“None of it is your doing, Addie, and none of it is your fault.”
“It’s unfair,” she said softly, clutching at him. “Why did it have to happen?”
“Why do all things in life? It’s how the world is,” Zoark made one of the Fors’ favorite head motions that meant everything and nothing. “Good things and bad. This time, we get to go on.”
He lowered them both to the ground under the protection of a large smooth boulder. Addie snuggled into his chest, inhaling the sweat and blood and dust of the man who had fought many battles. She wanted to say she loved him. She wanted to send a prayer of thanks up above for sparing him for her. But the moment she let her head rest against his shoulder, she slept…
???
The morning turned out the same as always, the Ehr sun sending its mellow orange light from a clear sky. Addie was one of the last people to wake up. It wasn’t the voices or the shuffle of the steps that woke her; it was the quiet chirping from above.
The Yuux had returned.
Raising her arm, she snapped her fingers, and her two furry companions glided down to settle contentedly on their chosen host, looking plump and satisfied, unaffected by the tragedy. Addie’s baby moved, a familiar flutter in her belly.
She was alone; Zoark had already left her side. A large shirt that still retained his smell was draped securely over her to prevent Hicars from sensing her bare skin.
She gathered the shirt into her hands and pressed tight against her face. One day, she promised herself, they would wake up together and cuddle, reveling in each other’s closeness, in the simple pleasure of enjoying a lover’s touch. But of course, that day would not be today.
Shaking off the lingering sleep, Addie left the protective shadow of the boulder.
Their tattered tribe was slowly organizing. Oma and Illied left to gather whatever they could find for a quick meal. Zoark, Vuskas, and Oh’nil went back to the settlement to recover any tools and weapons.
Melmie, preoccupied with grinding something between two rocks, smiled weakly and gave Addie a small wave. Addie waved back. She was hungry and thirsty and, quickly snatching the first Timpho grass bulb she could spot, she drained it in one big gulp. The liquid cleared the fuzz in her head.
Chief Net’ok was sprawled amid scarce bushes with a puckered face. He wasn’t participating in any of the tasks and appeared indifferent to them. He didn't get up, and though his thigh was torn up, Addie deemed his withdrawal to be due to low spirits rather than the physical injury.
Chemmusaayl lay a short distance away from him, and his eyes were open. Qalae was gently wiping his face with a wad of soft moss, herself still grimy and rumpled.
Addie approached them. “How’s he doing?” she asked Qalae.
Qalae shrugged. “He isn’t doing like much of anything.”
“Does he realize…” she motioned at the bandaged stub above his elbow, all that was left of his arm. Truly, his stick-wielding days were over. It was an unkind thought, and Addie chastised herself for it, but try as she might, working up any deep pity for the High Counselor was difficult. He just wasn’t a very lovable character.
“I don’t know. I didn’t tell him.” There was no love or concern for Chemmusaayl in Qalae’s voice, either. “I couldn't care less.”
“But you’re caring for him,” Addie pointed out.
“He asked me to,” Qalae nodded toward her mate. “I’m trying to be supportive.”
Addie lowered down next to Chemmusaayl.
“High Counselor. Can you hear me?”
She didn’t think he heard her, but then his glazed-over eyes slowly turned toward her voice, and his bloodless lips moved. He garbled something that Addie couldn't understand.
Helplessly, she looked at Qalae.
“He asked why,” the queen supplied.
“Why what?”
The dry white lips moved again, and this time Addie was able to discern the barely audible words. “Why did you do it, strange woman?”
