Page 31 of Exiles on Earth

“We can repair this,” I say, standing slowly so they don’t startle. “We’ll begin as soon as you wish.”

But instead of an order to start, El-len blinks at me, her expression softening. “How are you all?”

Nic-coal adds, “Especially the pilot, he had a nasty gash.”

“Everyone is… somewhat rested. Their nanites are hastening the recovery. Our Selthiastock will need a few more cycles before he can walk, our Parthiastocks are settled into a hierarchy, but the Pranastock is physically well.” They shouldn’t be preoccupied with the burden of Arture’s need for a star chart.

Nic-coal’s eyes narrow. “I want to see him, please.”

I touch my fist to my forehead. “Of course, female.”

“My name is Nic-coal. Nic… coal,” she enunciates.

“You don’t have to address us any other way except by our names,” El-len explains.

“Yes, El-len.” Rolling her name in my mouth makes my tongue tingle, half-remembered snatches of the sim-vids coming back to me. I have to control my impulses. “I will wake them, and we will begin.”

El-len puts her hands in my path. Her gaze drops to the grass in my hand, then to my face. “You said you collect plant samples, right?”

I open my hand, moving the stalks around on my palm. They’ve endured the crushing remarkably well. “Yes, I do. It’s my purpose, to scour the planets in search of life useful to Oloria.” I let my hands drop. Exploring the stars to find new resources, whether species of flora or otherwise, is my function, and yet I failed. Failed so badly, I was nearly executed and my crew and I were exiled because of it.

El-len’s face turns contemplative, lips parting as if to saymore, but then she shakes her head. “I guess we should get started with the barn as soon as we can. I’ll go back inside and wake Arabella up.”

I marshal everyone, even Arture, although he hadn’t fallen asleep yet. The need to ask him what technology’s likely on the shuttle weighs against my guess at his mental state, and instead I turn to Gara. “You can run diagnostics and make simulations much faster than I. Please prepare the presentations for the females with the data I give you.”

Nodding, Gara tries to stand, wincing as he moves his leg. I draw on some Gerverstock strength to heft the healer up.

“You just don’t want to leave anyone alone,” Gara grumbles. His hair curls across his forehead in the morning mist. “Don’t stretch yourself too much.”

“I know my limits.”

“Yes, so you can fly right past them,” Arture adds.

Dom snorts, and Arik laughs briefly.

“That’s what El-len calls a ‘joke’,” I say, crunching across the gravel. “We are allowed to make them in front of females.”

Gara raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything. These females continue to surprise us.

Halfway across the small stones forming the ground of the compound, Ara-bellah and Law-rah exit the farmhouse, staring openly at us. My crew drop their eyes immediately, and I quickly march them onto the floor of the barn I cleared out. As I set Gara down on a stable clump of fallen stones, I watch as the breathtaking females gather together on the opposite side. Especially El-len, her quick eyes calculating as she watches us approach. She’s definitely the leader of her fellows.

I can’t help but push out my chest as I turn to face them, wanting to impress in some small way. “Would you like me to outline how we will accomplish the repairs?”

“First, I want to check your pilot and the green patient, please,” Nic-coal says, heading straight to Arture’s side.

Gara reports, “I’m healing, the nanites are fifty percent complete. I’ll be up to full service levels in one and a half cycles, and for now I can complete my duties while seated.”

His voice is level and even, but a shiver still grasps at my insides. If we were on Oloria, the females might decide Gara’s not worth the time to recover and euthanize him.

“Okay. If you’re sure you don’t need help, great.” She gently turns Arture’s face this way and that, looking deep into his eye. “You’re struggling.”

“I… I will recover,” Arture tries, and new fear crawls up my lungs like cold ice.

“What’s wrong?” Nic-coal presses.

“He’ll be fully optimal at star rise,” I promise them.

“But he isn’t operating at one hundred percent capacity,” Dom says.