Kicking Ashe (6 page)

She did some mental physics and realized Lurch was right. They weren’t looking at her so much as looking at Shan’s grip on her. Might be more of that asserting protection thing. As if he heard her thought, Shan lifted her arm, and held it for sixty, long seconds. Heat formed around his grip and his gaze—giving off some mixed signals, she noted—even as it slammed into her like a battering ram. Not that he needed a ram to take her down. She planned to make a comeback as soon as she got some food and rest. If she survived that long.

The boys fanned out on either side of them, apparently offering mute support, though no one she could see looked visibly upset at Shan’s assertion of protection. Lots of curiosity, but not surprise. Or concern. One might suspect she were not the first alien—or alien female—Shan had brought home. A frown pulled his slanting brows together and his nose twitched like he got a whiff of something nasty.

Jealousy must smell as nasty as a Zelk.

I am annoyed, not jealous
. Ashe let her mouth tip up just a bit, not so anyone else could see, mining this tiny reserve of
annoyed
to keep on her feet.

He has introduced a mineral compound into your blood stream.
Lurch sounded almost intrigued, not the reaction she’d have expected. Ever. She had to fight the need to look away from Shan, had to fight to hold her ground with his gaze slamming into her like he was the meteor and she was the hull. She hated being the hull.
Is it dangerous?

Hardly. I believe it is a tracking tag. I can mute the properties, eradicate it, but it seems wise to let him believe he has succeeded for now.
He felt inordinately satisfied with himself. Mr. Alien On Every Planet looked a bit pleased, too. He for sure wasn’t the guy she’d met on Kikk and not just because that one had been pinging on not-so-great grandma. Now she kind of got why that had annoyed not-so-great grandma.

Still locked in visual combat, his fingers opened one at a time, the tip of his index finger sliding down the back of her hand as if to assert control as long as possible. Ashe resisted an urge to cover the spot with her hand. One side of his mouth quirked up for several seconds, almost like he’d picked up on it. Her chin jerked up for more than several seconds. She gave a small sniff and looked away. Lurch needed eyes on the camp and hers were the only eyes he had access to. It wasn’t because she needed a break from Mr. I-am-a-sonic-hammer-and-the-world-is-my-nail.

Of course not.

I could take him.

With food and rest, no question.
Before she could perk up at the compliment he added,
men of his ilk never expect women like you to kick their posteriors.

She had a feeling they’d both been insulted, but was too tired to parse his comments to be sure. In a distant, hazy way, she noted that the cloak wasn’t visible from this side. Not that she gave a crap, but it was a distraction from feeling like it. The air felt and smelled enclosed, not dank exactly, but not fresh either. It seemed that heat and humidity didn’t like being fenced in.

Crap load of tech here, so why can’t we connect to any of it?
Be almost as good as food and rest to know where the freak they were.

The tech is hostile to an unprecedented degree.

If she’d had the energy, she’d have grinned. Not a surprise the sonic hammer’s tech was hostile to an unprecedented degree.

And I sense a very sophisticated dampening field. This is not just a cloak but also a shield.

Lurch felt surprised by that, though he declined to share why. The camp, Ashe decided, was a bit like Shan and his boys, a mix of rustic and sophisticated. Cute little tech towers, sort of like dwarves, marched around what she assumed was the perimeter of the camp. Lots of bang for a minimal footprint. Tents in a variety of sizes were scattered inside that perimeter. The ground cover showed signs of moderately long occupation. A soft plume of smoke issued from a larger, centrally placed tent. Smoke? Could they be using fire? And if so, to do what?

Since fire is not needed for heat or light, that leaves food preparation.

Primitive plus.

It might be a choice.

Why could anyone choose to cook with fire?
She sensed something odd from him and added, what?
What’s wrong?

It is…quite different…

From the alternate reality he declined to fully share with her is what he meant by that comment.
That’s good, isn’t it?
His grudging assent almost made her smile—not that she had energy for that either, which was good because Shan watched her like a quartesh about to swoop on its prey and pluck it to pieces.

What is his problem? I haven’t done anything to him—in this reality.

Except threaten his status quo—whatever that might be.

He can keep his status and his quo. I just want food, repair time and a way out of here.
That wasn’t the whole truth, but Lurch couldn’t smell a lie.

Shan flicked his hand, which seemed to be an order to his boys to lose the automaton parts because Eamon and the others toting the parts trotted toward the other larger tent. They reappeared rather quickly, accompanied by a group that contained two women. Lurch’s interest spiked higher, like a shiver down her back.

Despite the withholding of information, Ashe did know that at their last meeting Shan had been looking to acquire females by fair means or foul. Based on what Shan had told her, that wasn’t a problem in this reality. No, in this one they’d chosen to cage all their women. This didn’t tell them when they were though. They needed drones to tap into the tech and get answers, but until some could be replicated and deployed, all she could do was look, listen and sniff.

Wasn’t a bloodhound or a seeing eye dog, so neither sniffing or seeing helped all that much, though she was pleased there wasn’t anything nasty lingering in the cloak-contained air. Not much to hear with everyone staring at Ashe. Nothing to touch now and not much to touch later, since she didn’t want to be the reason anyone died. She needed tech, needed the data flow that boosted all her senses and widened her view. Missed her time sense like a lost limb. She’d heard when a person lost a sense, the others sharpened. So far wasn’t feeling the sharpening of anything but tired.

Those two women wear side arms.

No blades or long range weapons, though. Their clothes were different from the men’s, too. Not sure what it meant. Could the leather attire be their version of a military uniform? If it was, well, way-to-go people in charge of leather, cause dang, it worked. And how come those two got to be out of the women cage?

They are past childbearing age.

True. And creepy.

No dresses or robes.

This felt like it pleased Lurch, though he still didn’t explain why, nor did he stand down from his hyper alert status. Shan didn’t either. His watchful air seemed to require a response. What did he hope she’d see? Or was that a hope that she didn’t see something? Here, in this place, Shan seemed larger than the setting, too everything for his companions. If they were in competition with these Zelk for meteorites, then the cloak made sense, as did the armament. But why collect automaton parts? Space rocks might have valuable minerals embedded in them, but the automaton parts were fashioned of crude metal. And since they weren’t supposed to exist, they didn’t even have archaeological value. It all felt off somehow. In the face of Shan’s steady stare, Ashe felt a need to say something.

“It’s very…” Hard to know what descriptive would please Shan. “…serviceable.” The silence felt long and weighted with something. “Really serviceable. In a very serviceable way.”

Not your best.

It’s not like it’s pretty.
She wanted to ask what his plans for her were, but the power balance was already too weighted his direction. She wanted to cling to him like a little girl and have him tell her it was going to be all right. She wanted him to notice she was a girl and he was a guy. She wanted him to like her. She wanted the impossible. Always had, which was how she’d ended up on the butt end of the unknown with nothing to point and shoot.

The impossible just takes longer.

And I’m an Aspridion.

“Our monitoring systems have registered you as hostile. If you attempt to leave or access forbidden areas, you will be immobilized.”

How was she supposed to know—

“When you approach a forbidden zone, a yellow field will manifest in front of you. If you persist, it will be followed by red. If you come into contact with red, you will be rendered unconscious. With each infraction, the field will increase in intensity. If you violate the red zones three times, life signs will cease upon contact with the field.”

Incarceration with benefits and boundaries. It could be worse. Death could be the first option.

“All members of this expedition contribute. You will be required to contribute.”

Tell him you will help with cooking.

I can’t cook. Sure can’t cook with fire. If I could cook. Which I can’t.

I will assist.

You can cook?
He didn’t have arms, except for hers and he hadn’t used them to cook. Ever.

I have been hosted by a fine chef
. A pause.
You need sustenance, little one.

Oh, right. “I can assist with the cooking if you’ll direct me to the—”

Kitchen
, Lurch put in when she paused.

“—kitchen,” Ashe finished. She looked at her grubby hands, then held them up so he could see the palms. “I should probably wash up first, though.”

Shan’s eyes narrowed to blade points. Had she surprised him with her request? She could only hope. A long pause later, he nodded.

“I shall require you to share what you know about the artifacts.”

She’d already shared most of what she knew, but it didn’t feel smart to tell him that. She nodded in what she hoped was a noncommittal manner.

“Calendria will assist.”

At his signal, one of the women approached, stopping at about the same distance Shan’s boys had kept during their hike. She could sort of see why they might have a no touching policy for guys, but why girls? This Calendria was older than Ashe or the boys. On Earth she’d be maybe late 40’s. Still attractive, she was blond and had an air of competent confidence that was at odds with the-incarcerate-for-their-protection Shan had talked about. Maybe they didn’t mind “spending” older females? Or did their presence indicate a low-risk operation? And if it was low risk, why cloak and shields and heavily armed guys?

When Shan performed a terse introduction, Calendria nodded with the placidity of a cow, but her assessing gaze reminded Ashe of the scientists back on the Time Base.

The tent Calendria led her to was, thankfully, less rustic inside. It had a floor that looked and sounded wooden. It boasted the basic sanitation facilities, plus several dressing areas separated from the main room by curtains. From a small cabinet, Calendria produced attire similar to hers and a packet containing some small, oddly shaped items of unknown purpose.

“You are somewhat smaller than I or Devorna, but it should fit well enough.”

“Thank you.”

Ashe thought she did a good job of sounding neutral, but Calendria flushed a bit. “The Commander thought you might appreciate a change of attire.”

He wants to examine your suit.

Kind of insulting he thought she hadn’t figured that out. Hoped he handled disappointment well cause he was gonna be. Not that she didn’t want or need a change of attire. A tech-blown suit was not comfortable. And how had the Commander told Calendria she needed new clothes? Did they have some kind of covert communication system? Be very cool if they did. Ashe liked covert almost as much as stuff that shot bad guys and their minions.

“How thoughtful.” Ashe produced the fake smile, saw this scientist note it. She took the packet, turning it to study its contents, too weary to wholly conceal that it puzzled her.

“Fresh soap, shampoo, a hair comb, and of course, a toothbrush and toothpaste.”

“Right.” Lurch had to explain everything but the comb. Ashe blinked, then smiled politely. “How quaint. And kind,” she hastened to add, before Lurch could chide her. “Very kind. Really…kind.”

“Quaint?” Calendria’s scientist look went turbo. “How do you brush your teeth?”

Ashe blinked. The swing between high and no-tech was a bit much. “They are self cleaning.”

“And is your hair self combing?”

“No, but I usually use my fingers,” she admitted, fluttering the free hand’s worth of them as a sort of demo. An Earth hair stylist who specialized in vintage hair design had showed her the technique, since carrying a purse was not an option for a time tracker. And even when she could, weapons were always a higher priority than hair combs.

Calendria’s attention, not unnaturally, shifted to Ashe’s hair. Since she had headgear hair, Ashe was unsurprised when Calendria reflected Ashe’s mock-neutral tone back at her with an, “Interesting.”

If Calendria had more questions, she kept them to herself. “Shower, washing basin, and commode are through there. You’ll find towels on a shelf. There are robes in the changing areas. Dirty towels and robes are stowed in the laundry basket there when you finish.”

Ashe studied this laundry basket with some interest. It seemed very small to be a laundry unit for so extensive an encampment. “Interesting. May I examine?”

Calendria blinked. Twice. “Of course.”

Ashe approached it and waited.

“You lift the lid,” Calendria said, her tone hitting somewhere between amazed and dry.

“Oh.” Ashe lifted the lid and found it about half filled with discarded attire. “How do you trigger the mechanism?” When Calendria did not respond right away, Ashe looked at her. Found her blinking again.

“One of my staff removes the clothes to the laundry when it gets full.”

Ashe decided to return the blinking favor. And it gave her time to think of a not rude response. She hoped. “Oh.”

You should have thought a bit longer.