Page 52 of Exiles on Earth

FIFTEEN

ELLEN

Ilia tacklesme as the world suddenly gets loud, his strong arms banding around me and hand protecting my head as we fall. His forearms take the brunt of the landing, and he tucks his head low over mine to shield me.

I pant, chest pressed to his rapid heartbeats, tasting his staccato breaths. His eyes open slowly, studying mine with concern. “Are you hurt?”

I shift my hips under his weight. His scent is warm, overlaid with… sulfur?

Ilia jerks his head up. “Laser fire.”

“What from?” I scramble up, hand fumbling for a bit of wood. I wish I had my trusty shovel. “Another robot?”

“We deactivated them, there were no others.”

A scream interrupts him. “Arabella!” I bolt, grabbing a chunk of stone on the way to the back of the house.

My garden still has the orange rocket in it, pushed to lie along the fence line. In front of it Gara and Arabella lie in a tight embrace on the mud, but he lets her go to run to purple and blue-black shapes in the blasted ruins of the garden.

I can’t process Gara and Arabella’s closeness, heart drumming at the limp shapes of Dom, Arik, Nevare and Arture.

“What happened?” Ilia bellows.

Gara falls to his knees next to Dom, hands trembling as he turns him. “Scout robot, it came out of the shell, shot Arture and Dom.”

“I was only looking!” Arabella cries. Tears streak down her cheeks. “I didn’t push anything, I swear! Are they okay?”

Gara works quickly, not answering her, and Ilia runs to help him. I’m torn between Arabella and the downed aliens. I might not be much help to them, but it’s better than nothing. I get to one of the triplets’ sides, his glazed eyes gray, and turn him over gently to search for a wound. Only smooth purple scales meet my shaking hands. “I can’t find anything!”

“That’s because Dom took the blast,” Gara says with relief. He runs to Arture. “Ilia, how is Arik?”

“Same as Nevare, downed because Dom is. Thank the All-Mother.” Ilia sits back on his heels, his scales flickering bright blue like spring sunshine. Glancing at me, he explains, “Dom can tank a hit, and Arture can heal faster than any of us.”

That doesn’t exactly make sense to me, but I have a more pressing issue. “Cool. We still have a robot on the loose, right?” I face my friend, trying not to look at all judgmental.

Apparently, I fail. Soaking wet from the drizzle and being dropped in the mud, Arabella looks like a pissed-off cat with her hair plastered to her angry face.

She thrusts a finger at Gara. “He’s hiding something!”

“I told you not to go in there,” Gara snaps.

Ilia cuffs him around the head before I can open my mouth to agree with Gara. “Don’t speak like that to them!”

Gara reels back holding his head, the poor guy.

I round on Ilia. “We don’t hit each other. Where you come from, violence might be second nature, but not here, and certainly not on my land!”

Ilia’s scales go pale from being shouted at. He dips his head, and I know he’ll be devastated. Perhaps I was a bit harsh. “My deepest apologies, Gara. I… reacted to correct behavior which would lead to Gara’s punishment if he’d spoken like that on Oloria.”

Cradling his head, Gara touches his cheek to his shoulder, their ‘it’s all okay’ action.

But it’s not okay, it’s all blowing up again. I need to take charge. I ask Arabella, “What do you mean, he’s hiding something?”

She scowls, pointing at the ship. “He’s shifty, coming in here all the time.”

“This ship has the technology I need on it.” Gara’s scales glow dark green like a poisonous frog. “The plascrete manufacturer, charging for the diagnostic tools, and all my medical supplies. Unless I’m going to do something primitive, like set a broken bone by hand.”

Arabella glares at him, water dripping down her nose, and Gara meets her gaze coolly. Something’s going on here, but I have no time for it.