Page 13 of Alien Desire
“No?” he says, and there’s that amusement skipping in his eyes again.
“No,” I repeat. “Emma does the driving.”
He shrugs, just like he’d seen me do earlier, and scoots backwards on the seat, making room for me up front. I squeeze into the space and he places his large hands on my waist. They encapsulate me almost completely and I try to dismiss the treacherous little part of me that likes that. It seems whatever healing power was in that patch he applied has also given him a serious dose of cockiness.
A cocky alien. I have a a suspicion this is the last thing I need.
Chapter six - Tor
The creature that currently fusses about the food store, pulling out cylindrical tin containers of almost inedible substances, is like nothing I’ve seen before. And I’ve seen creatures of all creeds and all kinds in my journeys across the universes. But nothing like her.
I suspect, perhaps, I am no longer in one of my own universes. I don’t remember much before the crash, a vague recollection of the electronics of my spaceship going haywire and losing control of the projection, the ship being yanked suddenly in one direction, a bright flash of light and then hurtling towards this white world.
For many years on Astia, we believed ours to be the only universe in existence. Then my great-great-great-grandfather the Alpha and adventurer Byrok discovered another, and with it untold wealth and power for my family. Have I, his descendant, discovered a third?
The creature, Emma, discovers what she is looking for and offers it to me with a wide stretch of her mouth, showing off a row of white blunt teeth. I am beginning to learn that this means she is happy, content. Although her scent reveals this to me too.
It also confirms what I’d guessed by her small stature and rounded hips, that she is female.
Female and Omega.
From what I can gather, she is alone, except for one aggressive little hairy creature. And she has no space ship. I suspect that, like me, she is stranded on this planet.
I take the proffered container and snap off the lid in the way she’s shown me, then use the implement to scoop out the contents.
She speaks to me with that same happy expression and I do not wish to hurt the little thing’s feelings by admitting I find the taste of this food vile. It is food, after all, and I need it to regain my strength, although the healing pack on my side is already doing its magic and I feel more myself with every passing second.
Now I’m of my senses, I look around again with unhazed eyes at the location in which I find myself. A rudimentary building with limited technology, which suggests her species is of elementary capabilities and understanding. Far behind that of my own, the Grytons.
Unfortunately even our superior Gryton technology has not survived the crash; only what I’ve salvaged from the emergency trunk remains, designed to withstand any destruction. And unfortunately the contents of the trunk are limited. I can only hope I can combine it with the technology here to send a message to my world, a command for a rescue mission to be sent to collect me.
And the Omega too.
I watch her now from the corner of my eye. Her skin is much darker than mine, a shade of brown that remains static and unchanging, just like her hazel eyes. From her scalp protrudes many fine auburn strands that appear entirely natural. She is smaller than a Gryton female — much smaller and softer too. Her body, although similar to mine, is a combination of curves and sweeps. I inspect them now. Her tiny waist and her wide hips. She is clearly designed for child bearing.
Yes, I will need to take her back with me to Astia.
I sniff the air again to confirm it, to ensure in my half-conscious state I hadn’t imagined it. To ensure she is definitely Omega. Her sweet scent — a tantalising mixture of jumga fruit, star berries and quixly flowers — floats through my nostrils, bathing my mouth in a delicious concoction of taste, and melts into my bloodstream. My skin warms and swirls with colour.
Omega. No doubt about it. Omega.
I can’t quite believe it. When my father sent me on this mission to find the Gryton more Omegas, I’d known it for what it was. A fool’s errand to force me out of the way. One I’m sure he expected would have me return empty handed and therefore shamed. I myself had little hope. But I was determined to do my duty, to scour every corner of the two universes, knowing it would be many years before I would return home unsuccessfully.
Never did I dream I’d succeed. Or so quickly.
The Omega sits with her legs crossed, one of the food stuff perched on her lap, watching me as we both eat. I notice her observing the way my skin lights up in response to her arousing scent, but I have a suspicion she does not know what this means. An expression I gather is puzzlement hovers on her face.
It is a pretty face, despite its lack of Track lines, the ones that signify the purity of our Gryton line. I stare back at her and note that I was wrong. Her skin does change colour, darkening across her cheekbones. Curious.
I eat as much of the sloppy, tasteless food as I can bear, then push it to one side, and go to further explore the contents of the trunk. Inside, I find a translation kit, and a basic communications beacon. I also discover several spare suits rolled into balls, more healing packs and, to my relief, some food. I attach the small disc of the translation kit to my forehead and, picking up the communications beacon, go to explore the computer here.
The Omega trots beside me, struggling to keep up with my longer stride. It is adorable and my tail flicks in contentment. She stops when she sees this and her mouth falls open. I see she does not have a tail of her own. This must limit her species considerably in both movement and balance, but also in communication. Although I consider that she uses her face to express herself. Curious again.
Ignoring the wag of my tail, she points to the disc on my head.
“I hope it will allow us to understand each other,” I tell her, gesturing to her and then me, but she shakes her head and shrugs, and I know she doesn’t understand.
The computer, as I feared, is rudimentary. It sputters and grinds to life and the electronics are so slow, I can almost see them churning away. I crack my knuckles and dig in.
