Page 6 of Married to the Alien Mountain Man

Still, a bitter, shrivelled, selfish part of me – a part that made me feel very ashamed – wished I’d somehow managed to get a bride in the first batch of women, before the truth about this planet had come out.

Because now, as Tasha had explained, it could take many human months, maybe even many Zabrian cycles, until a new bride could be convinced to come here. And even if one did come, she would not be assigned to me as Magnolia once had been. No, Tasha had decreed that she would set up some sort of social event for future potential brides to meet several of the unmarried males – Zohro, Warden Hallum’s men, and me – all at once.

There was no guarantee a human woman would choose me above any of the others.

“But I am young enough,” I said aloud, as if the volume of my voice would make the optimism of the words more convincing, even as Nali gave me a mercilessly doubtful look. “I have time,” I insisted. “And I think I could win over a human woman eventually. If one would but give me a chance.”

I’d read the book Tasha wrote – the one about human women and their cultures – so many times that I had great swaths of the text memorized by now. I knew about weddings and flowers, religions and rings. In fact, I’d already made a wedding ring for my bride. I carried it with me always, the heavy metal circle of it a constant weight in the pocket of my trousers.

It might be a weight I carried alone for a long, long time.

“Well, if you’re not going to do any of your exercise, I suppose we should head back,” I said to Nali, standing and adjusting the brim of my hat beneath the hot morning sunshine. “Tasha and the warden will be leaving soon, and we must say our goodbyes.”

I moved to lift Nali into my arms – because she’d so far made no effort in getting up – then halted and straightened once more. The way my nose might become slowly aware of the warm whisp of distant smoke, my ears picked up on… something.

Engines. Getting closer.

Not a slicer. I knew it at once. These sounded further away, but I could already tell they were part of something much larger than the warden’s vehicle. And it did not sound like the engines of the Zabrian vessels that sometimes delivered supplies to my property. I had no orders due for delivery, anyway.

So what, then?

I removed my hat, letting my ears twitch and move in their attempt to pinpoint the origin of the sound. My ears told me which direction to look at the precise moment that a small vessel came into view overhead. It was descending – and quickly.

This was not normal. This did not happen.

Ships that had not been granted access to the planet by Zabria or the wardens did not just show up and land among the mountains here.

Ever.

Never, in all my cycles living here, had I seen an unknown vessel approach this way.

Something is wrong.

I was either in imminent danger from some sort of unforeseen attack…

Or the pilot was in trouble.

“Stay there,” I told Nali as I scooped her up and placed her atop the very ledge I’d sworn I would not lift her to before.

Then, I put my hat atop my head.

And ran.

4

OAKEN

By the time I’d run what I thought was about two spans, my right foot felt like it was ready to fling itself off of my ankle in protest. But I didn’t give up and I didn’t slow down. I needed to find that ship.

The mountains were not an easy place to land. Even for a skilled Zabrian pilot who knew the way.

And I was certain this was not a Zabrian pilot. It certainly hadn’t been a ship of Zabrian design.

At least what I’d heard of the vessel’s landing had not sounded too much like a crash. I kept running, chest heaving, lungs burning, doing my best not to break my other blasted ankle in the process as the soft grass of the valleys nearer my property transformed into treacherously rocky ground. Sun gleamed off the warm pinkish-gold stone. Dust churned beneath my frantic footfalls.

And then – ahead, beyond an outcropping of stone – came the sound of a metal door unlatching…

And footsteps.

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