Alien Tyrant

But it all came crashing back when I heard someone, or something, speak beside me. My head jerked to the side, and I gasped at the sight of another alien. But this one wasn’t my alien. Hold on. My alien? This one seemed older, at least by human standards, with a long white braid, and eyes with silver sparks. They wore a simple woven covering, like a tunic, belted with the same kind of leathery fabric that Buroudei had had crossed across his body.

“Where’s Buroudei?” I asked, latching onto the one alien who was somewhat familiar to me on this world. An alien I inexplicably thought of as “my alien.”

At his name the other alien seemed to react, their eyes glittering. They said something else. Their voice seemed higher and softer than Buroudei’s, but still a little growly. And there was a softness to the features. That, coupled with the different garb, convinced me this must be one of the female aliens. Maybe he took me home and dumped me off with his mom.

She said something else, then pointed a knobby, clawed finger at my legs. Gingerly, I sat up and pulled back the animal hide blanket that had been tucked around me. Heat flooded my cheeks and neck as I realized I was naked, and I yanked the blanket back, clutching it around my chest. The alien cocked her head, said something else, and gestured to my legs again. Blushing fiercely, I pulled the blanket up a bit and looked down again.

My i

But I didn’t feel hungry or weak enough to have been out that long. It made no damn sense.

The alien woman seemed to understand my confusion. She said more, and then picked up a small clay jar, taking off the lid and holding it out to me. I was suspicious for a moment, but then again, she had apparently healed me with some kind of alien sorcery, so it didn’t seem like she would hurt me now. I glanced inside the jar.

The jar looked like it was filled with radioactive milk. Thick and white, the liquid glowed as it swirled in the jar. The alien pulled the jar back, mimicking dipping her fingers in it, then rubbing the insides of her thighs. Ah. So this stuff is some kind of Polysporin on steroids. Got it. Whatever it was, I was grateful – the pain in my legs from before was basically gone, and the number one thing bothering me know was a pounding head and dry throat.

“Do you have any water?”

She looked at me blankly.

I mimed drinking from a cup, then pointed to my throat.

“Thirsty. Need water.”

A look of understanding crossed her features, and she stood, crossing to the other side of the tent and fetching one of those spiky cacti that Buroudei had shown me earlier. Valok. She grabbed a small, sharp instrument from a nearby shelf, and sliced the valok the way Buroudei had, pulling it open and offering it to me.

I bit my lip. Was this safe? It didn’t seem like such a bright idea. But then again, if they had no water, I was done for either way. I might as well give this a shot. Who knew how far I was from the ship and our supplies. Taking a steadying breath, I grabbed the valok plant and slurped some of the i

I coughed a bit as I swallowed. The stuff was more bitter than I’d anticipated. Like green tea that had been left to steep too long. But as far as I could tell, that was the worst of it. After a moment, when nothing in my body seemed to rebel against it, I took my chances and half-drank, half-ate some more of the slippery gel. By the time I’d mostly emptied the round valok plant, I felt surprisingly better. It had slaked my thirst, and my headache was already abating. Damn, between the magic aloe plants and the radioactive milk, these guys have got medicine surprisingly well figured out.

The tall alien woman looked satisfied, and took the valok husk from my hands, disposing of it in a corner and grabbing something else. When she brought it closer, I realized it was some kind of plate, carved from bone, filled with what appeared to be meat.

My stomach simultaneously flip-flopped and grumbled. I was hungry, no doubt about that, but I wasn’t sure I was quite hungry enough to eat whatever that was. But she nudged it toward me with greater urgency, speaking quickly. I could practically hear my Grammy speaking through her, telling me to eat my meat and vegetables so that I’d have lots of energy and strength. I guess grandmas getting young people to eat is universal. Literally.

The thought made me soften, and I took the plate, casting my eyes over it to find something that looked somewhat edible. I steered clear of what appeared to be raw organ meat, and settled on something that resembled sliced beef, lightly charred.

I took a bite. The flavour was strong and gamy, and it was extremely tough to chew. But all in all, it was palatable. I spent a few moments chowing down, sure that I looked absolutely crazy – naked in an alien tent, eating a bunch of meat with my bare hands. But with every bite I swallowed I felt stronger. When I’d had enough, I handed the plate back to the woman. She took it, standing, then disappeared outside of the tent.

I sighed contentedly, or as contentedly as I could, considering the situation. Sure, I’d been dropped by my own people on an alien planet, had barely survived some kind of spider apocalypse, but I was also feeling about a hundred times better than I had been earlier, and I seemed to have made some new friends. Or, at least, allies of some kind. I hoped.

A second later, I heard the tent fabric rustle, and I turned towards the sound, expecting to see the alien woman return. But it wasn’t her. I bit back a gasp, yanking the blankets I’d let slip back up to my shoulders.

No, this definitely wasn’t the woman from before. This alien was tall, insanely muscled, and was staring at me like I was a piece of raw meat on a plate.

It was Buroudei.

With the half-crazed look of hunger on his face, I almost expected he’d bound over and take a massive bite out of my arm. But he didn’t. He crossed the space between us with a few long strides. His tail whipped around his front, covering his eyes, then he knelt, his tail returning behind him. He grabbed for my hands, holding them tightly, almost reverently. Laughing awkwardly, I yanked one hand back to keep my blanket in place in front of my torso.

“Nice to see you again, too. Thanks for getting me here and all patched up. Was that your mom?”

I gestured out the way the woman had left. He cocked his head for a moment, then said a bunch of words. I only caught the last syllables, which he repeated.

“Rika.” He pointed the way the woman had left, saying, “Rika,” then pointing to himself and saying, “Buroudei.”

“Right, got it. Don’t worry, I didn’t forget your name, Buroudei.”

When I said his name, the shimmering speckles in his eyes exploded outwards, and he gave a guttural sounding groan, his mouth descending to my hand that he still held. And there was that batshit crazy tongue again, long and forked into three parts, working its way over my palm. When he reached the sensitive skin of my wrist I choked back a cry. This felt way too good. Was this some kind of alien greeting I didn’t understand? He’d done it before, to my neck. In all the footage we’d studied, I hadn’t seen an alien lick another one upon meeting them. And, for some reason, the idea of Buroudei’s tongue going to town on somebody else just felt... wrong.

Holy shit, girl. Are you jealous?

Between intense licks, Buroudei was muttering away, his dark eyes never leaving mine. I couldn’t understand a single word coming out of his terrifying mouth, but something in his tone felt like he was telling me something important. Making some kind of promise. I only wished I knew what it was.