Eden by Louise Wise Page A

rescue slipped away. She shook herself, feeling ashamed, as least she stood a chance unlike Bodie and Matt - but oh, didn’t she wish she were with them right now.
    “What are you doing?” Bodie asked.
    “ I’m hungry, and I need food. I found a few pouches of coffee and tea in one of the survival kits, and I thought I’d offer them as a sort of peace-offering to the alien. Maybe he ’ll help me find food.”
    She heard Bodie ’s intake of breath.
    “Is that wise?”
    “Probably not, but I’m hungry, and I can’t see what other options I have.”
    “Stay away from him. Stay right away! “
    Jenny looked across at the spaceship. The door had been left open, and the black hole it exposed only intensified the alarm in Bodie ’s voice.
    His shoulders ached, and the pain in his ankle wasn’t going to subside with rest so easily this time. He sat on the bed and crossed his injured leg over his lap. It was slightly bent as usual, but it wasn’t swollen. He would have to live with the pain. To break it for the second time would weaken it even more, and who was to say it wouldn’t set wrong again?
    He lay back, reaching for the bottle absently. His fingers brushed air, and remembering, he grunted.
    The knock was so timid it barely registered. When it came again he sat up, then crossed the room and opened the door. It was the female. Who else? She smelled of smoke and river, her hair was a tangle of red fire, and her face was soiled and flushed with exertion, or was it fear?
    “H-hello,” she said. She attempted a smile.
    He didn’t move. For several long seconds, he simply stared at her, trying to make sense of her daring in coming. But he was glad she had come, and he felt momentarily overwhelmed with pleasure that he hadn’t frightened her away completely.
    She held out her hand. “I d-don’t suppose you ’ll enjoy these as much as the alcohol, b-but they ’re all I’ve got to replace it.”
    He raised his hand, and caught her flinching as if she were expecting a blow. He shook the small computer in his hand to show her the reason for raising it. And although she glanced nervously from the box back to him she seemed to understand his silent request and repeated herself. When she’d finished, her voice was played back in his language.
    He failed to respond immediately. There was something in the posture of the woman, so beaten and vulnerable, which helped him arrive at his decision. From where he came from, the weak were always afraid and nervous; the strong, aggressive and powerful. This woman had courage, which she didn’t know she possessed. She was clearly frightened and nervous, yet not weak. And it was plain to see in her expression that she knew she needed him for her survival - and was terrified of the prospect.
    “I’ve m-more, a-and I ’ll trade you for food.”
    Her voice was played back.
    She looked uncomfortable beneath his stare, but he refused to relieve her of it - wasn’t able to relieve her of it.
    It was as if he were afraid she would disappear if he blinked. She shifted and took a step back into the corridor. That simple movement pushed him to act, and he reached out to pluck the pouches from her hand. He didn’t want them or need them. The spacecraft still carried an excess of beverages and tasteless dried food. If he wanted he could provide her with everything she needed to stay alive.
    He tossed the pouches on the shelf. He knew where she had discovered them, and had himself inspected the human ’s vehicle, but had found nothing he didn’t already have.
    He reached over and, by the front of her spacesuit, pulled her into the cabin, an action soon regretted, for she recoiled violently from the contact. Letting her go quickly, he bent beneath the shelf that jutted out from the wall, and searched in the small cupboard, bringing out a plastic carton.
    “I have food,” he said straightening, and testing his knowledge of the female ’s language without the aid of the