Read Discovery Online

Authors: T M Roy

Discovery (16 page)

“Povre, if you say I should have left you behind, or anything dumb like that, I’ll…I’ll…”

Instead of describing his intention, he started the vehicle, whose engine sounds were just marginally less annoying than those of the helicopter.

“I’m glad to hear you had some success after that fiasco this morning,” she heard him say next. It took her a moment to fully translate the words and form another response.

“Information takes long time to assimilate.” Her head started to pound again. “My fault, this is not right for you. Running, hiding. Not right.”

“It’s not damned right for anyone to come and take you away, either, damn it, unless it’s your own people.”

“But—” Povre encouraged her exhausted brain to function.

“We’re going to get something to eat,” Kent said as if that would solve all their troubles. “You’re a vegetarian, so burgers are out…how would you like to try a veggie burrito?”

“Know many words now, Kent, but not all definitions. Understand veg-et-arian.” Her tongue stumbled. “Not burr-ito.”

A wash of vertigo nearly swallowed her as the vehicle went backwards.

“You’ll like it.”

“Trust you,” Povre heard herself say as if from a great distance. She wished again that she hadn’t been so impulsive, disobeying H’renzek’s order. She’d never been treated with the supplements her body needed during her visit. Exhaustion and hunger had a great deal to do with her current condition, but no amount of food or rest would help her for much more than a few days.

I wish we could go back to heaven, she thought wistfully.

* * * * *

 

SHE CAME TO IN HIS
arms, wrapped in warmth. With bleary eyes she looked at more unfamiliar surroundings. A dwelling place, inside four walls. They both lay on a wide, flat, cushiony sleeping platform. It had to be one, even though it was so big and soft. Crisp material felt good and clean under her skin. The press of his body and hug of his arms was comforting.

“Kent?”

Behind her back, his chest rose and fell in a deep breath. It wasn’t hard to guess he’d dozed off.

“You fainted,” he said, his breath warm on the side of her face. “You have to eat something. We’ve both been drinking water all day, and I ate my food on the way here. You need to get up and eat now, too, then take a shower or something, and we’ll sleep.”

“Shower? Bathe? In water?” The very thought horrified her. It didn’t help to add the thought-feelings she absorbed from being in contact with him, that if she felt too tired or weak, he would carry her into the bathing room and do the job himself. Sirgels preferred somewhat of a humidified atmosphere, rich in oxygen—like she experienced in the lush forest just before—but never got soaked to the skin. Never. She never questioned why, which of course was rare for her. It just happened to be a fact of life, and her race never afforded the luxury of having water to waste in such pursuits. In space, fresh water was a carefully regulated, rationed treasure and any fresh and unrecycled was used for drinking purposes only.

A good brushing out with some
lerz
powder was all she needed. She didn’t have any of that aromatic cleansing substance, or a brush, but maybe she could find a substitute. Povre had no idea what getting soaking wet was like, or what might happen, and she wasn’t anxious to find out. The very thought filled her with dread.

“How else?” He chuckled, a warm sound that gave Povre energy.

“I can’t,” she said.

“You’ll feel better. But eat first. I’ll warm up your food.”

“Where we are, Kent? This is your home?”

“No, this is a motel, Povre. I got us a unit with a microwave.” He paused when she closed her eyes, wrinkled her nose, and tried to identify the new words. “I’ll define it later, I’m sure you’ll know what it is. Anyway, I didn’t think it was safe for us at my house. No more talking right now. Eat first.”

But now all the words are wanting to come out! she wanted to protest. But, he was right. Her body was protesting the lack of food over all. Over the exhaustion, the fear, and her longing for this human male to take her in his arms and…

Povre shivered as he helped her up and seated her at a little round table. She realized she wore nothing but one of his shirts.

“You took good notes before, Kent?” she asked, pulling the material between herself and the seat.

“What?” Kent raised an eyebrow.

“You took of my clothes.”

“Off,” he corrected.

“Removed my clothes,” she countered. She folded her legs before her on the chair, tucking her bare feet beneath her thighs.

“I guess did.” He placed a steaming something in front of her.

It smelled divine. He started talking to her. She had no interest in how he figured out the material of her jumpsuit and how it opened or closed itself. For the first time Povre paid no attention to him. Her entire focus centered on the alien food in front of her. Her hunger became so acute her stomach ached, but despite that she forced herself to study what she was about to devour.

The burrito, whatever it was, certainly appeared colorful: white, yellow, blue, purple. She wondered what sort of vegetable it was, if they all grew to such size—nearly two of her narrow handwidths long. How did the plant that bore it look? What did it require to grow properly? Could he get her some seeds to take back…if she went back? She picked it up. It felt strange, hot and dry. She closed her eyes as the warmth sank into her cold hands and the appealing odor assaulted her nose. It brought another painful response of hunger.

“No, stop!” Kent intevened right before Povre closed her teeth on the tantalizing morsel. “You have to take the paper off first,” he explained, slipping off the covering. “We don’t eat this part. It’s just a wrapper. Well, maybe
you
can eat paper, but trust me, the inside is much better without it.”

“Oh.” She had to hold back her hunger long enough to examine the burrito all over again. It had looked prettier before, but it still smelled as good. Better. She poked at the pale tough substance with dark spots that appeared to be between her and what was stuffed inside. “And this is also not to eat?”

“You can eat that. It’s like a sandwich, Povre. The tortilla is made from flour—ground up wheat berries—and water. Inside are all sorts of other vegetables: tomatoes, beans, onions, rice…all good stuff. I hope. I wasn’t sure if you could handle dairy products so I told them to leave out the sour cream and cheese, although I think those are the best parts.”

“Dairy…?” The word conjured others she had absorbed though her link with him.
Milk, butter, yogurt.
She had no images to match with them. She thought harder, pulling more terms into the front of her mind, searching for one to which she could connect.

Milk…lactose…mammals…
babies…

“Oh!” She looked at him, hunger forgotten as the connections were made. “Human females provide…”

His mouth opened, then closed, his face darkened with a blush, and he shook his head, his lips quivering as if she upset him greatly.

“Cows,” he gasped, tears forming in his eyes. “The milk comes from cows, domesticated animals, mammalian, ruminants, grazers. There are big farms where we raise cows and they produce more milk than their babies need. It’s an important food source for many humans.”

~~

Kent kicked back in his chair and let his howls loose. He couldn’t help it. Her words, her look, brought an instant mental image of rows of placid women hooked up to milking machines, reading magazines, chatting easily, or smiling with benign expressions. Then a woman pouring her husband a cup of coffee. “Cream, dear?” she’d ask him, and when he nodded, gave him some fresh on tap.

He doubled over, clutching his belly. Exhaustion made him silly. Experienced as Kent was after years and years of all-nighters, whether cramming for exams or lost in research, or just laughing with friends, the more tired he became, the raunchier and more punchy he got. He had to stop. It wasn’t right and had he voiced his thoughts in other company he was sure he’d be getting looks of outraged resentment from any females and ones of revolted amusement from males.

“Sirgels, long ago, did almost same.”

“Sirgel females?” Ken wiped at his eyes and hooted again.

Povre’s deep, husky chuckle warmed the room. “No, Kent. Obtained milk from animals. When mother’s milk failed.”

“Oh.” He cleared his vision in time to see her take a healthy bite. As she chewed, a look of bliss came over her delicate face and a purely sensual sound formed in her throat. Not as strongly as her experience in the Willamette forests, but pretty close, enough for Kent to feel a surge of response. He mentally cataloged watching an alien eat a burrito alongside watching an alien hugging a tree.

“You like it then? Good. I got three of them, so there’s more if you’re still hungry.”

Her reply was lost in her next bite.

He groaned. He kept telling himself to resist his increasing urges, but her unconscious sensuality, her raw, almost erotic pleasure in such simple things, was going to be the death of him if he watched any longer. “I’m going to take a shower while you eat or I’m going to lose any control I have. Then it’s your turn.”

Either she ignored him or was so engrossed in her food she didn’t hear. Kent smiled, picked up some clean clothes, and went into the bathroom, while thinking of buying stock in the taco place if the word got out their seven-layer burrito, minus a few layers, was the rage among visitors from outer space.

“Well, if she ends up staying, she’d be guaranteed a career in advertising,” he muttered. “All they need is a fifteen second shot of Povre, and they’d be fixed well into the next millennium.”

Inserting himself in the blissfully hot spray, he sighed in pleasure. “Thank you, Lord.” As much as he loved the outdoor life, he loved coming home to hot showers just as much. The needling heat of the spray tempted him to linger, but the thought of leaving Povre out of his sight or reach for too long brought premonitions of disaster. So he grabbed the tiny bar of motel soap and started scrubbing.

* * * * *

 

THE BURRITO DIDN'T LAST
long. Nor did the others he’d left in her reach. Feeling stronger, Povre unfolded her legs and moved silently across the room. She looked at the unusual items and wondered what they were for, but she didn’t touch them. She was more curious to see what Kent was doing. She shuddered.

Bathing in
water
. Maybe it was fine for some species, but the very thought of it filled her with dread. If he insisted…

I can’t,
she thought.
I just can’t. He won’t make me do it. I’m sure he won’t. I’ll explain it simply isn’t done.

The nagging of her curiosity edged Povre toward the bathing room despite her personal fear of undergoing such an ordeal. How did a human “take a shower”? She hesitated only a second before touching the door. She admitted to herself she was a lot more curious to see Kent without his clothes than she was to observe the bathing procedures of the local dominant life forms.

He’d left the bathing room door ajar and she slipped inside. Steam assaulted her. She didn’t like that so much, but the heat felt good. She could take it for a little while.

There was a place to sit, a curiously shaped white chair without arm rests. Pulling his shirt over her bottom and backs of her thighs, she settled on the cold white material and turned her attention to the outline of Kent through the clouded clear material separating them.

A mistake. Scientific observation dissolved into the steam. The material wasn’t occluded enough for her not to see him, for the first time, totally nude. Her insides grew as hot as the air. He had a beautiful body. His chest was more heavily furred than the rest of him, except his head, and she wondered why. She caught a glimpse of heavier fur near his sex, too, and stared at that spot, willing the material to clear for a better look. What she could see made her glad she sat down, for her legs felt wobbly. All sorts of strange and wonderful and frightening new feelings pulsed through her body. Feelings she couldn’t name, having never experienced them before.

The hissing sound of the water stopped. The partition started to open.

“Oh, Goddess,” she said reverently. She glanced to the door and willed her legs to move, to flee. She sat.

The partition slid back, giving her an unobstructed view.

“Povre! What are you doing in here?”

She swallowed and offered a weak smile. “I’m taking notes?”

He snatched a thick white cloth from a rack and covered himself, but not before she saw evidence her presence affected him. From what she saw, her race and his could…

Instead of its light tan color, his skin from head to toes had turned a reddish shade, much like his face. Tucking the cloth around his hips, he crossed his arms and fixed her with a stare that made her entire body lock up with delicious tension. Water dripped from his skin, his hair, down his legs. She watched a small puddle growing larger on the floor and thought that if she moved, she’d probably be in the same condition.

“Saw what you wanted to?”

“Enough,” she managed on a squeak, dragging her gaze to his mouth.

“Okay, Povre, so you’re ready to solo?”

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