Kol
His mate—Penny—proved more irresistible than he expected. She was clever and quickly figured out that he could understand her. She was even quicker to realize that, once repaired, his broken comm could rescue them from the never-ending cold. The garment she devised for him was only acceptable because the fabric provided warmth and did not hinder his tail. Every other aspect of the poncho was humiliating for a warrior. For anyone.
It was marginally better than being cold, so he tolerated it.
The comm unit was beyond his skill, but he only had the training to perform simple repairs in the field. He opened the device and spread the pieces out to dry. Penny had been correct in surmising that the water damaged the unit. He did not understand what warranty had been voided, but if she meant it was damaged, then yes. It was well and truly damaged.
“Can I help?” Penny asked, settling next to him at the flimsy table.
His instinct urged him to grab his mate and place her in his lap, wrap his arms around her and share body heat.
He resisted, remaining still as she leaned over, her dark curls brushing his arms and setting his tattoos ablaze with desire. They tingled and they lit, climbing up his arms, but he remained still. He had misjudged his level of control, badly, when Penny woke. The crisp cool desert flower scent of her permeated the shelter, clouding his mind. He wanted more than anything to toss her down on that sad sleeping palette and explore every inch of her soft and inviting curves. He needed to touch and caress every part of her. His lips had to claim every part of her and he would drink deeply from her sweet cunt before filling her with his seed.
Not a first date activity, she said.
He did not know what a date was, other than a place marker on the Terran calendar. Did she mean that their encounter was outside of time? Time did seem to be in flux when he was with her. It slowed to the point where they were the only people and the rest of the universe fell away. Time also had the frustrating habit of rushing by too quickly. Just as he savored her humor or the resolve in her voice, she rushed on to the next moment, leaving him forever a moment behind. Time was dysfunctional when it came to Penny.
He would tell her this, just as soon as he fixed the comm unit or learned Penny’s language.
At his current rate of progress, he would speak fluent Terran before completing repairs.
“Would this help? The battery’s dead, but you could use it for parts.” Penny held out a small, flat black box. He recognized a Terran communication device and took it with a curt nod of thanks.
His mate returned to her spot next to him at the table and watched as he disassembled the device. Terran technology was primitive and crude. It relied too heavily on wires and networks and satellites, all systems that were easily neutralized. Power had been delivered from generating plants to private homes via cables. Cables. He could not think of a more vulnerable system, yet Terrans criss-crossed their planet with wires and cables, some underground, but often suspended in the air. They had made it all too easy for the Suhlik to cripple the planet.
The primitive resilience of Terran technology fascinated Kol. With modern communication systems destroyed, they had fallen back to radio waves. It was not two-way communication, but a central authority could broadcast with little power and nearly every Terran had the correct device to receive broadcasts. Penny had such a device. A turn crank generated enough operational power. Radio was barely a step above smoke signals, yet it worked.
“It’s silly to get all sentimental about a phone,” she said as he removed the primitive screen. “It’s just a phone and it’s not like anyone’s phone has worked since they destroyed the satellites, but part of me is worried that Aunt Jasmine is trying to call and can’t get through.”
Kol grunted in agreement. His own clan would be unable to reach him due to the damaged communicator. When he’d failed to report after his patrol, his absence would be noticed. His warlord could send other warriors to search for Kol, but this did not fill him with hope for retrieval. The search party would quickly find the destroyed bridge and the Suhlik shuttle. They would rightly assume a battle took place. They might even find the icy remains of the Suhlik soldier in the river. His clan brothers would find scraps of his armor in the Suhlik’s claws and they would logically conclude that Kol fell into the freezing water and perished.
If not for his mate, his clan brothers’ conjecture would have been correct. Kol would have perished in the river, either by drowning, or his body would have shut down due to the cold.
Earth was no place for a Rolusian. Even with the superior Mahdfel genes, his body was simply not designed to thrive in this environment. He knew with certainty that he would survive the winter storm and make his way back to the secure zone, albeit with difficulty. Anything short of another tumble into the river, and he would succeed.
Now his situation was more complex. He had more to think about than just himself. He had his mate to protect and Terrans were woefully unequipped for their own environment. He would be able to march through the snowstorm and pick his way across the rubble in the river, but Penny would not. The winds that howled around their shelter would cut through her garments and freeze her soft skin. The cold and the snow reduced his sensory perception to frustrating levels, but Penny would be blinded by the snowstorm. He could not bring her out of the shelter and guarantee her safety or wellbeing. Any injury to his mate was unacceptable. The only solution was to remain in place until the storm passed.
He did not know how long the average winter storm lasted on Earth. So far ten hours had elapsed since he woke and he had no means of calculating how much time had passed since he went into the water. Several more hours, conservatively. Did a snowstorm cease after a few hours, like the sand storms of Rolusdreus? Or could it last for days like the catastrophic storms in his planet’s equatorial zones? He itched to ask Penny for her insight.
His mate shifted next to him. She cranked the radio and adjusted the dial, listening carefully through the static for another human voice. She sighed and rested her elbows on the table, causing it to rattle. “Sorry,” she said.
“You will not receive any broadcasts through the storm. There is too much interference,” he said.
Penny looked at him while she spoke but shook her head. “I didn’t get a word of that, but I think the storm is causing all this static. Normally there’s news. Not great news, but news. And the date and time. I don’t even know what day it is. It’s December, but that’s all I can tell you.” She sighed before setting the radio aside. “Any luck?”
Kol salvaged the processor chip from the phone and wired it in crudely to his comm unit. It was an inelegant solution but he cared little for aesthetics as long as it worked. “I believe so. It’s as ugly as a saarl’s ass but it should work.”
Penny smiled. “Ugly is a strong word. It’s resourceful.” Her eyes went wide. “Wait… I understood that.”
His tail thumped against his leg, pleased. The comm had translated his words slowly in a stilted voice, but it worked. “I am Vadi Kol, son of Vadi Ruh. You belong to me, Pen-knee of Earth.”