Shadowed Read online

  “Except for the fact that my head feels like I drank an entire bottle of fireflower juice before passing out.” He put a hand to his temple gingerly and winced at the throbbing pain. “Gods, what happened?”

  “I pushed the kill switch.” Nina looked ashamed but defiant. “I know you said not to, but you were in such bad shape. Lona’s emotions were overwhelming you and—”

  “Wait a minute.” He held up a hand. “Who’s Lona?”

  “Oh—that’s the little girl who found us. She and her pet, Spaker, were playing ball and she threw it too far—that’s what hit our ship—her boji ball. And so—”

  “You mean to tell me that thing that attacked us was a child?” he interrupted her again.

  “Couldn’t you tell?” Nina asked. “It was really obvious to me. She was just curious about us—she thought we were some new kind of dolls. Two of her mothers had promised her some new toys, and she thought we were it.”

  “Two of her mothers?” Reddix shook his head. “What kind of society is this?”

  “A really nice one, actually,” Nina said reassuringly. “They took us in after I, uh, knocked you out, and their healer has been looking after you ever since.”

  “They took us in?” Reddix stared around the dim room he found himself in, realizing for the first time that he was no longer on the ship. “What the hell?” he growled at Nina. “Why did you let them take us from the only safe place on this entire ball of dirt?”

  A frown creased her forehead. “Because I was worried I’d killed you, all right? Do you know how long you’ve been out? Three days. You told me the kill switch would only put you under for an hour, and so I waited an hour, but you wouldn’t wake up. Reddix, I’ve been sitting here with you day and night worried to death that you were never going to open your eyes again. I…I…”

  Her own eyes were suddenly bright with tears, and she turned away.

  “Hey…” Her emotions still bewildered him, mostly because he couldn’t feel them. That’s right, he realized. I can’t feel them—the numbness is back. But was it really numbness? Reddix frowned, remembering the brief respite he’d had from the alien’s emotions when Nina had grabbed his arm. Could it be…but no, that was impossible—wasn’t it?

  “I thought I killed you,” she said again, her voice muffled.

  “I’m okay, sweetheart. Really I am,” he said, trying to be reassuring. Actually, aside from his pounding head, he didn’t feel too bad. He sat up in bed—or the low sleeping platform that passed for a bed, anyway—and looked around.

  The room he found himself in seemed to belong to a primitive, pre-technical society. Most of the implements he saw were made of natural materials. A mat woven of the tall purple grass covered the packed dirt floor, and the furniture was made of some kind of silvery-gray wood. The blanket that covered him seemed to be made of coarse dark purple animal fur. The craftsmanship was excellent, but there was no sign of anything plastic or electronic. In fact, there was hardly even any metal in the room. The small space was lit by a fire, which flickered with gold and blue flames in a stone fireplace across from the bed.

  Blue and gold, just like her eyes. He looked at Nina again to see if she was still upset. He caught her in the act of hastily wiping her cheeks, and when she looked at him, her chin was lifted defiantly.

  “Don’t die on me, okay?” she said, pointing a finger at him. “You’re not allowed to do that. You dragged me here, and you’re going to get me home…eventually.”

  “Eventually,” Reddix agreed gravely. “So…” He tried to lighten the mood. “Tell me more about this place. What are the natives like besides ‘really nice’?”

  “It’s actually fascinating and quite complex.” Nina turned to face him more fully, her lovely face animated, the firelight reflected in her eyes. “The adults are smaller than the children—they’re about our size. Well, my size, anyway.”

  “That’s good to hear.” He looked around the room which did seem to be made to accommodate someone from Nina’s home planet. “If they got much bigger they’d be fucking monsters.”

  “As far as I can tell they hatch from some kind of egg. They start out really big and shrink as they get older,” Nina said. “I think that’s one reason each child has multiple parents—it’s the only way they can handle them.”

  “Makes sense.” Reddix nodded.

  “They also communicate via emotions. It’s kind of like their feelings make a picture in your head that turns into words. Weird but effective.” Nina bit her lip. “I’m afraid that might be a problem for you although the adults—especially the elders—seem to have much quieter feelings than the kids.”

  Reddix frowned. “That is a problem. Normal emotions are hard enough but when they’re fucking broadcasting them…” He shook his head. “I thought my head was going to explode.”

  “I thought so too,” Nina said in a low voice. “That was the reason I pressed the kill switch. I’ve explained as much as I can to them that it’s a problem for you, and I’ve been keeping everyone but the healer away from your room.”

  Reddix was touched. “Been standing watch over me while I was out, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

  Nina’s cheeks got pink. “Somebody had to. I wasn’t sure if your RTS was a problem while you were unconscious or not, but I didn’t want to take a chance.”

  “Thank you.” He held her eyes with his own for a moment, wishing he dared to touch her. “You didn’t have to do that but thanks anyway.”

  “Yes, I did,” she countered. “You’re my way out of here, remember? Even if you don’t want to take me home right away.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that right now,” he reminded her gently. “You’ve got the controls to the collar, remember?”

  “About that…” Nina looked uncomfortable. “About the collar…it was lighting up like crazy the entire time we were meeting Lona—blinking like a Christmas tree. Almost like it was…feeding on you.”

  “That’s exactly what it was doing,” Reddix said grimly. “Didn’t I tell you it lives on extreme emotions? It probably thought I was a fucking banquet.”

  “Well, I didn’t like it.” Nina frowned. “And afterward when you were out, I thought maybe it had something to do with why you weren’t waking up. So I tried to take it off.”

  Reddix frowned and reached up his fingers to feel the cool metal collar still encircling his throat. “What do you mean you tried?”

  “Exactly what I said—I tried.” Nina looked truly troubled now. “But, Reddix, it wouldn’t come off. No matter what I did, it wouldn’t come off.”

  * * * * *

  He frowned at her, and Nina wondered if he really understood. She tried to explain that she’d tried everything—even cutting the collar off—but nothing had worked. It had resisted all attempts to be removed, and when she’d taken a pair of pliers to the damn thing, it had actually shocked her—delivering such a stinging, painful jolt she was forced to abandon the attempt.

  “It’s really creepy,” she told Reddix. “I wish we’d never put it on you.”

  “Well, it’s on now,” he said grimly. “And we can’t—”

  Just then the light grass fiber door swung open, and the alien Nina had begun to know as “Healing One” came in. He was small—no bigger than a child, which conveyed his great age since these people shrank as they grew older—and covered in short grayish fur. His three eyes were a faded purple and seemed to have a kindly, patient expression in them whenever he looked at her.

  “Greetings,” he sent to Nina, using feelings of warm welcome and calmness to form the words in her brain.

  Beside her on the low bed, Reddix winced, a look of pain crossing his chiseled features. “Shit,” she heard him mutter as he put a hand to his temple.

  “Hello, Healing One,” she answered aloud, trying as much as she could to put herself between Reddix and the alien. She didn’t know if she could block the flow of emotions from the healer to the big Kindred, but she was d