Page 4 of Myra’s Monster (Romance Among the Stars #3)

4

MONSTER

M y cocoon parted as soon as the pressure outside was enough to breathe. Built to defend Home, my body functioned for extended periods without air, but there was no point in using up my reserves. Not when an unknown intruder walked the halls.

My neck frills fanned out, listening for the comforting brush of the colony’s mindsong, and found only silence. I’d entered my cocoon listening to the painful melodies of the dying, but I emerged alone. The absence of my siblings burned like a star in my primary heart, a terrible pain no warrior should ever know. All my life, I’d been part of the colony-chorus, and now I sang alone.

Almost alone. Home herself still sang, though her song was weak, fragmented, distracted. What little remained of her focused on using the gift of light the intruders brought to repair herself and storing the excess.

She sang to the flowers and branches of the garden, shaping the flow of air and precious water to take advantage of the energy the creatures brought. She sang to the walls, weaving fresh material to plug the gaps in the hull and heal the damage the intruders caused as they explored.

I followed that branch of Home’s song to find the attackers, hoping to prevent further damage. A painful, discordant note entered Home’s voice as one plucked a flower, disrupting the delicate ecosystem of the garden. Eons of inactivity left it balanced on a fine edge, and the slightest push might kill it.

I surged forward, unwilling to wait for my body to fully awaken. Using my four lower limbs to run, I held the remaining two high, ready to rend and tear. I would kill these intruders and feed their bodies to Home. Their nutrients would help repair the damage they had done.

Had the colony been healthier, I’d have rushed them as soon as I arrived. But now I had to be careful—if I died, I would leave Home defenseless, and that was unthinkable. Knowing nothing of my targets, I needed information before charging in.

So, instead of heading straight for the lights, I climbed into the branches above the garden and looked down to examine the intruders.

Three of them walked among the plants, and they weren’t any species I recognized. Four-limbed bipeds, each wrapped in tight insulating suits, they looked clumsy and uncoordinated as they moved. Clear helmets let me see their faces, pale and soft under the glass. One bared his teeth in an expression I couldn’t read, radiating cruel joy and jealousy as he plucked another flower to add to his already bulging bag. I tagged him the greatest threat to Home.

Another, by far the largest of the trio, kept a careful watch on the trees. I tagged him as the greatest threat to me.

But it was the third intruder who gave me pause. Her face, framed by curly red hair, was stunning for all its alien strangeness. There was something about her green eyes, the curves that her primitive spacesuit hugged so tightly, that made my hearts blaze with an emotion other than rage.

Unlike the others, she walked with care for the garden she moved through. When she stopped to pick a plant, she examined it carefully first, minimizing the harm she did to surrounding life. She acted with respect for the place she found herself.

I didn’t know what to make of that, but there was no excuse for harming Home. Instinct told me to slay all three of them, yet I hesitated. Curious, I spread my frills to listen to the intruders’ mindsongs.