Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 42969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
The creature that came out of it was monstrous—though also vaguely humanoid. At least, it had a head, two arms, and two legs and it walked upright, albeit with a shambling limp. Its body was covered in a soft, blue-green moss-like substance that might have been hair or might have been fungus—it was hard to tell. Its face was craggy—as though it had been carved from living rock. Tiny black eyes, two nostril slits where a nose should be, and a thin, lipless mouth made up the face, which Sylvie stared at uncertainly.
The creature—which happened to be huge, almost as big as Kross in fact—stared back at her blankly. Then it seemed to see the golden blossom she was holding in her hand.
It threw out an arm, one thin, stick-like finger pointing directly at her and its lipless mouth began to work.
“Thief!” it cried hoarsely in a voice that carried all the way across the clearing. “She steals the sacred blossoms—thief!”
Of course, Sylvie couldn’t have understood it without the shot of Translation Bacteria she’d gotten from the Kindred, but at the moment the wonder of comprehending an alien language was lost on her.
“Wait, no please—wait!” she begged, making shushing motions with both hands. “I didn’t mean to steal anything. I didn’t know you lived here!”
“Thief!” the creature exclaimed again, taking a step towards her.
It became clear to Sylvie that he wasn’t wearing any clothing under the blue-green moss-like hair that covered him. The point was driven home when she saw a perfectly enormous phallus swinging between his thick thighs. Good God—that thing was huge! And he was getting close enough that she could smell him—a rank odor that was also somehow floral. It reminded her of the smell of flower stems when they’re left in a vase full of water too long and rot.
“Stay back!” she exclaimed, beginning to back away from him. She didn’t want to be anywhere near this weird creature! She fumbled in her pack for the blaster that Kross had insisted she learn how to use, but it was down at the bottom under all her supplies and her seeking fingers couldn’t find it.
Speaking of Kross, where was her Kindred Protector? She would have expected him to be able to get through the undergrowth to reach her by now! Sylvie desperately wished she hadn’t left him behind, but now it was too late to regret her foolish impulse.
The mossy alien was still coming and Sophie decided to give up on trying to reason with him. Shoving the collecting bag with the stolen blossom back in her pack, she turned and ran for the other side of the clearing, where she’d come in. She was sure if she could just make it to the small opening in the underbrush she could lose the creature behind her. It was almost as big as Kross—there was no way it was getting through the low opening.
Every minute she expected to feel a heavy hand fall on her shoulder and stop her, but the creature behind her seemed to be slow and clumsy. It was coming after her at a shambling run she was easily able to outpace.
Sylvie was becoming certain that she was going to get away. She whipped her head around to look over her shoulder and saw that the moss-man—if that was what he was—had fallen far behind. Also, she could see the opening in the underbrush up ahead. She was almost there…
And then her foot snagged on something—maybe a root or a creeper—and she went down hard.
She let out a strangled shriek and put out her hands to catch herself as she went face-first into the purple-gold vegetation covering the clearing. There was a stinging pain in her palms and the wind was knocked out of her, but at least she kept from banging her head.
The fall had knocked the wind out of her and for a moment she lay there gasping. But she couldn’t stay for long. Turning her head, she saw that the moss-man had almost caught up with her.
She was in the act of scrambling to her feet when a hand suddenly came into her line of vision. A long, white, elegant hand but clearly a male hand, she thought distractedly. The nails were neatly clipped and the fingers were square at the ends.
“My dear, how very good of you to come and visit us,” an unfamiliar voice said. “Do let me help you up.”
7
SYLVIE
Sylvie looked up at the face that went with the hand…and felt all the blood drain from her cheeks. She knew this man—she’d seen him before. In fact, Commander Sylvan had given her and several other scientists a briefing specifically to warn against him.
He was tall and gaunt—“as thin as a scarecrow,” her grandmother would have said. The thin, sandy-blonde hair on his head and the long white lab coat which fit badly on his scrawny frame added to the strange illusion. As for his eyes…well, Sylvie couldn’t see them. He was wearing a pair of thick black goggles that hid them from view.