Lucie

 

Fire surrounded her again. Her skin tingled, but she did not burn. The thing above her was huge and… a rock?

Lucie couldn’t quite decide. It was person-shaped but plated like a knight in armor. The plates met at joints approximate to shoulders and neck, but the joint glowed with fire.

Literal fire. Okay, maybe more like molten hot ore or magma, but he smoldered like a coal shoved in a suit of armor, and radiated heat. He was featureless, the plates hiding all details, yet his large size and hard angles pointed towards masculine.

The grey and red dinosaur-looking monster crashed into the rock man above her. Claws cracked against the fiery shell surrounding them but did not penetrate. The creature howled in frustration before tearing away with a disappointed cry. It snarled one last time and whipped them with a tail before crashing back into the forest, following Halliday’s path.

The rock-man above her rumbled, like gravel tumbling in his throat.

She had to stop thinking about the creature as masculine or as a male. It could be an animal, for all she knew. A bear. Bear could be people-shaped when they pinned you to the ground, right before they mauled you. This could be a stone-plated alien fire bear. And those rumbling sounds? Not words, just animal noises, but she didn’t buy that. Alien fire bears did not shield you from attack—which he clearly did—just to maul you.

The eyes that peered down at her were amber streaked with ebony, like a bursting star.

Intelligent.

Compassionate.

Not an animal, but a person. An alien. An honest-to-goodness alien. She gasped in surprise. The fire shell vanished. The alien turned his head as the last of the fire disappeared.

Lucie lifted her hips and tried to wiggle away. He grunted and held her in place. Something hard pressed against her lower stomach. It could have been a staff or a club or a sword—she really wished she could think of something beyond phallic weapons—but probably not.

Maybe wiggling wasn’t such a good idea. Whatever this thing was, she didn’t need it thinking of her as humpable.

More rumbling, low like thunder in the distance. Gah, he was huge. Like huge, mountain huge. Part of Lucie’s brain knew she had a translator in her ear. Designed to learn and process language for her, the device had been necessary on the Concord with inmates and staff all over the world. Maybe it could do the same here—wherever here was—with time.

Maybe.

Lucie wasn’t going to get her hopes up.

The alien was warm. Crazy warm. With her back pressed against the mud of the riverbank, he felt that much hotter.

“Look, thanks for saving me from that beast-thing, but I need you to let me up.” Lucie gave a toothy smile.

Another low rumble, the vibration going straight through her. He didn’t move. Yeah. Communication was going to be a problem.

Lucie moved her hands as far as she could and pressed against his chest. Whatever he wore, under her hands it felt like sun-warmed stones. “Get off me,” she said with another push.

A howl in the distance caught her attention. She whipped her head around in panic, searching for the grey and red monster in the forest. The pressure pinning her to the ground lifted, and she rolled to her feet. “Is it coming back for us?” she asked her companion.

She turned, but her alien vanished.

Mindful that the monster could return, Lucie grabbed the bags Halliday left in his hasty retreat and hustled along the riverbank. Her ankle protested every step and she limped badly. Her sides cramped and her calves burned but she could not stay there a moment longer.

Satisfied that she ran far enough away, she fell to the ground. She guzzled down one water bottle in a heartbeat before going upstream to refill it. She wasn’t burning with a fever anymore. Dunking herself in the water and finally having a drink had lowered her temperature.

She waited for cramps or some sign of intolerance of water, but nothing happened, so she refilled the bottle and drank more. It was as if the water evaporated the moment it hit her mouth. She just couldn't get enough. She had felt this way before, usually at the tail-end of a cold: dehydrated from not drinking enough fluids.

Thirst finally quenched, she sat on grassy slope and went through the packs. She found a small first aid kit with ointment and bandages for her hands. Using the least amount to conserve supplies, she cleaned and wrapped up her hands. She poked at her swelling ankle, deciding to wrap it for support. It needed rest and ice.

Yeah, good luck with that.

At some point, bird song filtered back in over the sound of the river. The grass tickled at her ankles as she sat cross-legged. She tilted her face up to the sun. This was the first time she’d actually been in the sun in three years. More than that, counting the time she spent being held at her local county and then the state prison before finally transferring to the Concord. Four years in total. Four years locked away for a crime she did commit, yes, but only under coercion from her supervisor. Four years without fresh air or the sun on her face.

Her stomach rumbled, and she munched on a foil-wrapped snack bar. It didn’t taste like much except sugar and some vague fruit, but it was food and would have to do. Soon she’d need to figure out what was edible on this planet.

The trees closest to the river had a heavy melon hanging from the branches. That looked promising. She’d passed bushes with berries earlier. Fruit seemed plentiful. Whether it was edible or not was another matter. She had zero survival skills. She never went camping. Never so much as went on a picnic. Finding food seemed unlikely.

Correction, finding safe food seemed unlikely. With her luck, the first thing she put in her mouth would be poison berries. Or mushrooms. She shivered, thinking about all the nasty ways plain old Earth mushrooms could kill a person.

The mountain loomed in the distance at the bottom of the valley, the peak shrouded in white clouds. Halliday wanted to head to higher ground, to boost the radio’s range, and contact any survivors.

There had to be other survivors. The Concord had been a massive, sprawling ship. Her section was just a small piece, and Halliday claimed there were survivors.

Her best chance of survival required the other survivors. Between them, they had to have enough skills to make fire and shelter. She suspected the river water to be safe. She could share that if they didn’t already know.

Doubt chewed away at her resolve. What if the survivors rejected her? Told her to keep moving? She had not been the one in charge of the experiments, but she had been in the labs, helping. Some might understand that she had been a prisoner, too, and was forced to do what she did, but they might not. They would have every reason to blame her and tell her to keep walking.

Fuck. If the situation were reversed, Lucie wouldn’t want to assist the woman who helped torture her. Hell no.

Maybe the alien? He was… Lucie wasn’t sure how to describe it. He reminded her a bit of the old legend about the golems, a creature shaped out of clay and given the breath of life. He didn’t look real. Or possible. Not with the way he glowed with an internal flame. Or those eyes—

Forging an alliance with the aliens was Plan B.

Her gaze fell to the grass at her feet. It was green but striped with purple. Similar to Earth but just different enough, everything here made her homesick. This wasn't home.

Fuck it. Lucie rose to her feet, underused muscles protesting, ankle smarting, and shouldered the pack. She had a bag full of medicines and narcotics. That was her bargaining chip. The survivors might not like her, but they’d sure as hell like an antibiotic when they got sick or a painkiller when they got hurt. They’d have to accept her if they wanted her medicine.

Plan A formed in her head: get to the mountain, use radio to contact survivors, and use meds to buy her way into the tribe. Once she wasn’t starving or dying from thirst, she’d find a way to contact Earth and get rescued. If that was even possible. While she was technically free on this new planet, there were people on Earth that needed to pay for what they did to her and all the other inmates on the Concord.

She’d been sentenced for her role in the death of sixteen people—sick people who took a dangerous medicine. Her company knew it was dangerous. Her supervisors pressured her to falsify research data. Her co-workers knew what went down, and not one spoke about the cover up. The Board of Directors didn’t care who they hurt, as long as the shareholders made a profit.

The universe owed her sixteen names.

She’d start with those who hurt her on the Concord. Sobin was already dead so that was done. Fifteen more. Halliday and the warden.

Her supervisor.

Her three co-workers who said nothing.

Nine more.

How many bodies on a Board of Directors? They weren’t even people in her mind as she made her revenge list, just a name waiting to be scratched out.

A warm glow spread from her stomach outwards, consuming her. Plan A was a satisfying plan.

Without Halliday criticizing every step she took, she made good time. The valley sloped upwards until the grass gave way to scrub. The sun hung low, but she wanted to get in position before the light vanished. She needed to find a safe enough spot, something to burn and then figure out how to make a fire. Hopefully, the pack held a lighter or flint, but she wasn’t expecting it. Halliday raided the pharmacy, not a sporting goods store.

At some point Lucie finally noticed that what appeared to be bare ground was, in fact, pavement. She crouched down and dug her fingers into the thin layer of dirt. Clearing a small patch exposed uniform blocks in an orderly pattern: bricks. Loose soil and weeds covered part of it, but the wind kept a fair amount clear of debris. The brick path continued up to the mountain.

She spun around. Now that she knew what to look for, Lucie could clearly see the brick road through the valley. It followed the river. She had followed it unawares.

The planet had sentient life, and that sentient life had built roads.

Freaking roads.

Roads meant civilization, not nomads or hunter-gatherers. Towns. Trade. Commerce.

This could be really good or really bad.

The aliens might have the technology to get her home, or contact home. Having roads, however, didn’t necessary mean advanced technology. They could still be in the Middle Ages or earlier. Or they might kill her on sight. Or make her a slave. Or eat her.

Her one encounter with the golem-alien hadn’t led her to believe they would eat her. He tried to talk to her, right? You don’t talk to your dinner.

Then, a nasty little thought crept in: nice people don’t talk to their dinner. Mean ones do, to draw out the fear, just like the way Dr. Sobin or Halliday liked to ramble on about all the ways they were going to hurt her right before they did. The longer they spoke, the worse the punishment.

The road widened at the foot of the mountain and then spiraled up the side like a ribbon. Stones at the side glowed softly orange and illuminated the path. Lucie followed. Plan A was still the best plan. She’d worry about being eaten by aliens after contacting the survivors. Like Halliday said, she didn’t have to outrun the monster, just the others. If the aliens had the taste for human snacks, she just had to run faster than someone else.

The last of the light faded. The glow from the stones offered enough light for her to set up the radio. Flipping through the channels, she spoke into the handset, trying to contact someone. Anyone.

There was only static.

With a sigh, Lucie decided to climb higher and try again. She didn’t have to climb a rock wall, just walk up the neatly constructed road. Part of her worried about what she would find at the end of the road. As far as she could see, the lights went clean up the mountain until they disappeared into the clouds. What was at the top of the mountain? Why did the road need lights? More importantly, if the alien could build a road and line it with glowing stones, they were advanced and needed to provide safe transportation for people.

So where was everyone? Why hadn’t she seen a single soul today other than her golem? Where did he go?

Every sound in the forest made her jump. Twigs snapped. Birds launched themselves from branches. Unseen creatures rustled leaves.

With the lingering sensation of being watched in mind, she preferred to keep walking rather than make camp in the open. With the highway lights—as she thought of them— there was little risk of her stumbling and twisting an ankle in the dark. Besides, moving kept her warm. She had no blanket, no shelter, and no idea how cold temperatures got overnight. It was best to keep moving.

Within minutes, she came to a cart. At least she thought it was a cart. Metal and box shaped, it looked very much like ancient mining carts, the kind cartoon rabbits used in chase scenes. The cart floated about a foot off the ground.

It floated without any obvious motor or source of power.

Lucie circled the cart, peering in. No engine. No control beyond a single lever. She crouched on the ground and waved her hand underneath, meeting no resistance. No invisible mechanism. No heat, either.

Maybe the aliens were a step or two beyond the medieval period, after all.

“How does this even work?” she muttered. Magnets? They had maglev trains back home but those floated just above a track, not a foot off the ground. Then again, didn’t she see an ad for an expensive bed that floated off the ground? If Earth could use that technology for luxury furniture, then why not a mining cart?

She craned her head up to follow the path of the lights up the mountain. Was there a mine up there? Mines had offices and equipment. Technology. Maybe something capable of contacting Earth. At the very least, she could try to use the radio again at a higher elevation.

What was the alternative? Spend the night out in the cold, exposed if the shrieking monster decided to come back? Or sit waiting like a tasty little human snack for the next hungry monster?

“Lucky!”

She froze. Impossible. That smug voice was impossible. “I thought you got eaten by a monster.”

“I could say the same for you.” Halliday jogged up to her. Without saying a word, he took the radio pack from her. “The last I saw that shrieker was trying to make you his dinner.”

Huh. No mention of the golem who shielded her. “I guess he didn’t like the way humans taste.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.” She narrowed her eyes. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. She could scratch off a name on her list earlier than anticipated.

No. She didn’t have a weapon. She needed a bit more time before she could scratch off his name.

Halliday eyed the cart. Lucie stepped to block his view. She didn’t want him to figure out what she’d discovered.

“How did you find me?” she asked.

“Just followed the scent of that sweet snatch,” he said, crouching down for a better look at the cart.

Lucie snorted. Ask a dumb question, get a dumb answer. The glowing stones shone like a beacon alongside the road as it wound up the mountain. Where else would he go?

“Think this goes to the top?” he asked.

Yeah, she did, but she refused to confirm it.

“Get in,” he said.

“No,” she answered, despite that she had been ready to climb in moments before he arrived.

A hard push in the center of her shoulders motivated her to get in. Pack at her feet, Lucie released the lever before Halliday could swing both legs over.

He tumbled to the ground as the cart rocketed forward. He shouted, but she couldn’t make out the words over the wind rushing by.

Lucie laughed at the shocked expression on his face, her first belly-laugh in four long, miserable years.

 

Asche

 

“What is she like?”

The big male looked around before plucking a fragrant blossom from a tree and handing it to Asche.

Asche frowned at the fragile purple flower. “You’re such a romantic, Ertale.”

They returned to the City in the Caldera, following the female.