rectify her earlier error.Then with a loud sniff she turned and walked out the front door closing it with a slam.
Tristan blinked gazing after her. “Damn! I only said thank you, touchy bitch.”
Chapter Five: The Enemy
The next day Tristan woke early. The sun streaming in through the partly closed curtains left bright patches on the opposite wall. He lay still, the faint whispering in his mind when Aesia was near had stopped. So she must be working on her ship. He checked the wound in his side and it had almost completely healed.
He swung his legs round and stood up; the expected nausea did not happen. He rubbed the side of his forehead, noting that he hadn’t suffered any pain or headaches since she had arrived either. He took a few tentative steps before he had to grip a chair for support. He sighed; he needed some breakfast and a cup of tea. He released his grip on the chair and walked through. The kitchen was neat and tidy. He checked the cupboards and found everything in its place. “Well she has been busy!” He made himself a small bowl of cereals and sat down. After breakfast, he showered and changed.
He felt good; Aesia and her Med Kit had done an excellent job.
He sat for a while to rest before walking out of the house and up the hill. As he got closer the faint touch of Aesia’s thoughts grew stronger. The presence of the ship’s computer caused a different type of sensation, a feeling of latent power. He had learnt to block her small personal computer quite quickly. It had made conversation difficult as he could “hear” it translating for her. He knew what she would say before she said it, so her speech was like an echo of the machine.
He tried to sort and order the sensations pressing in on his consciousness. He found he could separate the cold emotionless machine from the faint flow and ebb of emotions coming from the busy alien easily. The few days spent recovering had not been wasted.
Aesia had a panel off the side of the ship just forward of the cockpit. There were some parts on the ground beside her. She seemed to be replacing faulty circuits.
Tristan sensed a change when she became aware of his approach. A momentary feeling of pleasure or satisfaction was quickly replaced by irritation. He wondered if his presence or the ship had caused it. He smiled.
“Hello. Are you busy?” He cursed himself for such a lame question.
Instead of the expected cutting reply to his stupid question she nodded. “Yes, I’m trying to fix the communicator. This thing will never fly again so my only hope is a rescue.”
He knew she was hiding something, an underlying current to her thoughts gave her away. He chose to ignore it for the moment, and maybe with a little more time and practice he could make more sense of what she was thinking.
“I’m going for a short walk to build up my strength, is there anything you need before I go?”
“No! No thank you.” She corrected herself. She turned back to the open panel, dismissing him with a wave of her hand.
Over the next week, they fell into a routine. Aesia worked on her craft, Tristan concentrated on regaining his strength, prepared the food, and replenishing the groceries by visiting the small local village shop. He thought it best to avoid a trip to the town for the present. He could also keep an eye on anyone walking up the track. The last thing he wanted was someone stumbling upon an alien working on her space ship.
One morning Tristan had left for his usual walk. The day was fine the sun warm on his back, and dappled sunlight seemed to dance through the gently rustling leaves. Everything was well with the world. He had noticed that her attitude towards him was improving. She had started to treat him more as an equal instead of something beneath contempt. Sometimes she could even be quite pleasant. He did however sense her becoming increasingly concerned that the repairs were not going well.
She had once broached the
Tristan blinked gazing after her. “Damn! I only said thank you, touchy bitch.”
Chapter Five: The Enemy
The next day Tristan woke early. The sun streaming in through the partly closed curtains left bright patches on the opposite wall. He lay still, the faint whispering in his mind when Aesia was near had stopped. So she must be working on her ship. He checked the wound in his side and it had almost completely healed.
He swung his legs round and stood up; the expected nausea did not happen. He rubbed the side of his forehead, noting that he hadn’t suffered any pain or headaches since she had arrived either. He took a few tentative steps before he had to grip a chair for support. He sighed; he needed some breakfast and a cup of tea. He released his grip on the chair and walked through. The kitchen was neat and tidy. He checked the cupboards and found everything in its place. “Well she has been busy!” He made himself a small bowl of cereals and sat down. After breakfast, he showered and changed.
He felt good; Aesia and her Med Kit had done an excellent job.
He sat for a while to rest before walking out of the house and up the hill. As he got closer the faint touch of Aesia’s thoughts grew stronger. The presence of the ship’s computer caused a different type of sensation, a feeling of latent power. He had learnt to block her small personal computer quite quickly. It had made conversation difficult as he could “hear” it translating for her. He knew what she would say before she said it, so her speech was like an echo of the machine.
He tried to sort and order the sensations pressing in on his consciousness. He found he could separate the cold emotionless machine from the faint flow and ebb of emotions coming from the busy alien easily. The few days spent recovering had not been wasted.
Aesia had a panel off the side of the ship just forward of the cockpit. There were some parts on the ground beside her. She seemed to be replacing faulty circuits.
Tristan sensed a change when she became aware of his approach. A momentary feeling of pleasure or satisfaction was quickly replaced by irritation. He wondered if his presence or the ship had caused it. He smiled.
“Hello. Are you busy?” He cursed himself for such a lame question.
Instead of the expected cutting reply to his stupid question she nodded. “Yes, I’m trying to fix the communicator. This thing will never fly again so my only hope is a rescue.”
He knew she was hiding something, an underlying current to her thoughts gave her away. He chose to ignore it for the moment, and maybe with a little more time and practice he could make more sense of what she was thinking.
“I’m going for a short walk to build up my strength, is there anything you need before I go?”
“No! No thank you.” She corrected herself. She turned back to the open panel, dismissing him with a wave of her hand.
Over the next week, they fell into a routine. Aesia worked on her craft, Tristan concentrated on regaining his strength, prepared the food, and replenishing the groceries by visiting the small local village shop. He thought it best to avoid a trip to the town for the present. He could also keep an eye on anyone walking up the track. The last thing he wanted was someone stumbling upon an alien working on her space ship.
One morning Tristan had left for his usual walk. The day was fine the sun warm on his back, and dappled sunlight seemed to dance through the gently rustling leaves. Everything was well with the world. He had noticed that her attitude towards him was improving. She had started to treat him more as an equal instead of something beneath contempt. Sometimes she could even be quite pleasant. He did however sense her becoming increasingly concerned that the repairs were not going well.
She had once broached the
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