Page 7 of Wayfinder (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #5)
“Awake human chef Pearl and Vaktaire Warrior!”
The AI voice slammed into my brain like a fist.
I didn’t sleep well last night. Granted, I had slept on worse surfaces than the floor, but not for a while. The bed I used at my sister’s apartment was like sleeping on a cloud. I felt stiff, and my muscles grumbled painfully as I pulled into a sitting position.
“Awake human chef Pearl and....”
“Shut the fuck up!” Pearl wailed, throwing a pillow at the speaker near her head. The AI must be programmed to respond to her voice. It didn’t issue another peep.
I let my gaze travel over Pearl’s waking form.
Her reddish-brown hair lay in a tangled halo around her shoulders, and she wore a rather adorable frown.
Awake, she was strong and fierce, but I’d watched her last night—another reason I got little sleep—and in the embrace of slumber, there was a fragility about her that kicked my protective instincts into overdrive.
“What time is it?” Pearl mumbled, rubbing her eyes.
“Early.” I bit back a grin, watching her shift into an upright position, hands trying to smooth her errant tresses. “We have arrived on the moon.”
“How can you tell?” Bright blue eyes regarded me quizzically.
“We are no longer moving,” I told her. Humans were not used to space travel and did not notice the subtle shifts of movement inherent in a spaceship.
Pearl grunted, climbed to her feet, and stretched, which revealed her luscious body as the nightgown pulled taut.
She was taller than her friend Emmy, with more pronounced curves, a body where one could lose himself in softness.
My cock agreed with a twitch. I chided myself for the reaction and settled into protector mode, which meant keeping my emotions at bay.
Something which proved harder by the minute.
“Please get dressed and congregate in the common room in fifteen minutes.”
Pearl frowned at the speaker but didn’t attempt to smack it again.
“I have something for you,” I told her as she turned toward the bathroom.
The shuttle we occupied belonged to the space station, and as such, Jala selected our rooms and filled them with necessities. One particular necessity being an outfit for Pearl. I’d noticed she favored simple slacks and tunics, but that would not suffice for what came next.
Moving toward the hidden closet, I touched the panel, and the doors sprang open, revealing a stack of clothing in soft brown leather along with a pair of boots.
“What is it?” Pearl asked as I gathered the garments in my hands.
“A trekking outfit.” I placed the clothing in her hands and watched her blue eyes widen in delight. “The fabric is waterproof and temperature-regulated, and the boots are made for hiking."
“I take it we’re going to be doing a lot of walking?” Her lips twisted wryly, but she couldn’t hide the pleasure dancing in her eyes.
“You don’t hunt much, do you?” I couldn’t help the smile that tinged my lips.
Although she didn’t say a word, Pearl’s blue eyes raised to mine, and her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink.
She disappeared into the bathroom to change, giving me a moment to don my own leather pants and vest. The battle garb of a Vaktaire.
“Do you think you’ll need all that?” Pearl asked, returning as I adjusted my bandolier.
“Better safe than sorry,” I retorted with a sly smile as I patted over my blades.
A few minutes later, we stood in the common room with the others.
A long table near the door held breakfast offerings—protein bars, water, and kaak, a favored morning drink.
I made sure Pearl was served, offering her a cup of kaak, which she refused, citing it as similar to something she called Red Bull on steroids.
“Oh God, this is awful.” Pearl’s face scrunched in displeasure as she took a bite of the protein bar. “It tastes like packing peanuts covered in molasses.”
“It is not the most appetizing.” I agreed. “But it will give you energy for the hunt, and that is what’s important.”
“You’re not a foodie, are you?” She snorted.
“Foodie?” I frowned. The word was not familiar. My confusion made Pearl laugh, a rich sound that bubbled up from deep in her soul.
“A foodie is someone who likes food,” she explained, taking another bite of the bar and grimacing. “Good food.”
The Chancellor rushed us along, cutting short any further conversation.
I stayed close to Pearl, lingering just long enough to gather several more protein bars and stuff them in my pack.
A Vaktaire warrior could go many days without sustenance.
I knew humans must eat several times a day to retain their strength.
Once inside the docking bay, like every other team, the Chancellor directed us to a two-seater short-range skiff.
The contraption was not much bigger than an escape pod, and its only amenities were two separate seats and an onboard water filtration system although it had been fitted with cold storage at the back for the competition.
“Let the competition begin!” The Chancellor clapped his hands gleefully, turning to give each contestant a wide, slimy grin.
“Your first challenge is a behia. You must hunt, kill, butcher, and prepare the behia meat all before sunset. The winner will be judged on both timeliness and taste. Good luck to all the contestants!”
“What the hell is a behia?” Pearl muttered as I helped her into the skiff.
I opened my mouth to answer, but the AI beat me to it.
“A behia is a large bovid ungulate most commonly used for meat and leather. The female behia is referred to as a behiline, while the male is commonly called a behital.”
The screen at the skiff’s dash shimmered, revealing an image of a six-legged, green-skinned creature with a large body, a long neck, and four green tentacles on either side of its head.
“Looks like a cow,” Pearl murmured, seemingly more interested in how I manipulated the controls than the creature.
“What is a cow?”
“Domesticated livestock on Earth.” Her voice was light, but I noticed the way her knuckles whitened when she gripped the harness as the engine roared to life. “They’re slow, and easy to kill.”
This time, I beat the AI to a response. “The behia are incredibly fast, and they have the ability to stiffen the tentacles on their heads and use them like swords.”
“Shit.” Pearl breathed. A sound that got exponentially louder when our skiff shot out of the docking bay. Her scent changed suddenly, the warm floral taking on the acrid hint of fear. “You know how to drive this thing... right?”
“Of course. Most learn how to drive a skiff while still a youngling.” I glanced over at Pearl, taking in her pale face and tightly shut eyes. Without hesitation, I laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. Her bones felt delicate, far too fragile for my liking. Still, I wanted to comfort her.
“It will be okay.”
“Tell that to me when we’re back on the ground,” she muttered, squinching her eyes together tightly.
“We are on the ground.”
Slowly, one bright blue eye popped open and then the other, widening in surprise.
“The skiff is designed for short-range travel,” I informed her, piloting as closely to the ground as possible. “It uses an air propulsion system, so we can gain some altitude, but it’s hard to maintain."
The scent of fear evaporated, replaced by something decidedly more floral, as she relaxed and watched the scenery whip by us.
“It’s beautiful. It reminds me of the French countryside.” The smile she turned at me was broad and happy.
“ Le paysage est charmant ,” I said, agreeing that the landscape was beautiful. In my studies of Earth’s language and culture, I found French the most beautiful speech.
Pearl let out a tiny, strangled gasp, causing me to turn my gaze in her direction. Shock plainly reigned in her expression. Her full lips opened and closed several times before she responded.
“ Tu parles francais ?”
“I speak almost all your Earth languages,” I told her with a shrug.
“Even English?” she asked, rather redundantly.
“Even English,” I teased, grinning broadly.
Her pale blue eyes grew even wider, and she appeared slightly flustered. Not a common occurrence for Pearl, at least to my knowledge of her.
“Holy shit, you are speaking English. I didn’t even notice. How do you speak English?”
“My Chieftain believes that in order to properly protect Earth, we need to learn its customs and language.” I turned the skiff toward a copse of trees in the distance.
.. something in my gut selecting the route.
The AI threw up a map in disagreement with the direction. I ignored it, as I did most maps.
“When you say your ship protects Earth, what exactly do you mean?” Her shocked tone gave way to curiosity.
“We guard Earth against beings who would see the planet and its inhabitants exploited.”
Pearl issued a playful snort. “Don’t want to comment on your job performance, but you know my friends and I were abducted.”
“And rescued.” I reminded her, despite the fact her rescue remained a work in progress.
“I’ll concede to rescued when I’m back with my friends,” Pearl said sternly, but her eyes danced with mirth. She stared at me for a moment before glancing away as though it took too much effort to hold my gaze. “What’s that?”
I shifted in my seat to take in the view from her side of the ship. The tiny creatures were still a distance away, but their bright orange fur made identification easy.
“They’re called itocal. A scavenger species, harmless. It means that a behia herd will be nearby.”
My gaze caught on a grove of tall, purple-leaved heelia trees to the right. We needed to land the skiff undercover. Not only would the machine’s movement spook the herd, but I didn’t want to give away our location to the other contestants or anyone else who might be looking.
The skiff handled easily, sliding in amongst the trees with ease.
“What now?” Pearl asked, as I grabbed a container of water and hooked it on my belt.
“Now we’re on foot.”