Rescued By Tordin: Olodian Alien Warrior Romance (9 page)

Kyra attached the disk and felt a sensation of slight warmth. She said his name, “Tordin”, and he touched the disk still attached to his own neck. When he spoke to answer, she didn’t hear his voice in the room—it filled her head in a delicious, soft rumble. “Ooh! This is cool,” she said in response.

He smiled and said, “Another thing. You don’t have to use much volume to be heard on my end, and vice versa. The vo-link—that’s what this is called—will transmit your words at the right volume for me to understand. Watch as I speak with you now. In the room you barely hear my voice, but in your head you hear me perfectly, correct?”

She nodded, understanding what all that subvocalizing was about now. They’d been having phone conversations. And the great thing was, it could be private, even with someone standing close by. Excitement grew within her at the prospect of what she could learn and do around all this alien tech. This disk might be one step from telepathy.

Boldness rose within as she spoke with the commander. She’d try her own theory out. If he didn’t hear her, then no harm, no foul. Without using any volume, she thought her words, only moving her lips to say what she was thinking. “Tordin, thank you for being so gracious to give me a way to communicate directly with you. I’ll make sure to use it only when necessary.” She felt like such a flirt, and she liked this side of herself.

As soon as she’d finished he said, “You’re very welcome,” and smiled.

Hot dog! This thing could make the wearer almost telepathic. She wanted to know so much more. “What is its maximum effective distance?”

“It depends, the more you use it, especially between the same person or people, the stronger the link. I am able to communicate with Malm, my second in command, through different galaxies. My father rarely uses his to contact me anymore, since he’s communicated with me since I was a small offspring.”

“Oh, I see. So is it biologically based? Does it begin to fuse with my body? Or will it have to be replaced from time to time like any other piece of machinery?”

He cocked his head, looking for a way to answer that question. “Kyra, your questions are intriguing. Your approach to viewing the vo-link is quite refreshing and different. I would say it is more biological in application and mechanical in construction. It is made of a metal found on our various worlds. The metal is magnetically drawn to our skin. It isn’t harmful and won’t pull or attach too tightly to the skin. It behaves almost like something sentient in that it will only attach as strongly as needed. So when we perspire it clings more firmly to maintain contact in spite of the moisture.”

“Oh. That’s very interesting,” she said, her mind whirling with questions. “So you are able to sweat? You know, to compensate for overheating?”

“Haha, yes, dear Kyra, we are. Our ’sweat’ as you call it, is not made up of the liquid you call water from your Earth. It is made up of our fluid called
gaiata
. It is what you used to cleanse yourself. You will also drink it to hydrate and refresh yourself. It is our life-giving force, as your water is for you.”

“Will it trigger any reactions in my system?”

“Most likely. On your world, your historians refer to it as the fountain of youth, and the waters of the ancient garden started as an experiment on your planet by our ancestors. Let me think… if some of your ancient texts are right, you gave it names based on the flow pattern it took from the original source. I believe the names were Pison, Gihon, Hiddekel and Euphrates. But we didn’t allow the experiment to go too far, because your people started to change and become more like us instead of evolving on their own path. We only wanted to help the planet grow and remain lush, not to change its species. Our
gaiata
gave you longer life spans closer to ours, and your flora and fauna become—how do you say it?—super-size. In some cases, they became more vicious, turning into the creatures you called the dinosaurs, and the effects went on and on.
Gaiata
is way more potent than your water. All sentient beings are able to live in it, and it restores, repairs and rejuvenates us. We ingest it, cleanse with it, cook, heal, grow our food and so many other things with it. Without it, we would cease—or die, as those in your world would say.”

Kyra was stunned. “Wait, you mean to tell me that the blue-green liquid I bathed in earlier was part of the Garden of Eden?”

“Yes, dear Kyra it was, and it is this same
gaiata
that I will ask you to drink very soon. Your vitals show you are dehydrated. That would also account for your passing out.”

“Sure, yeah, I’d love to drink some of this fountain of youth liquid.” Then it dawned on her—were they immortal? “Tordin, is your race immortal? You know, able to live forever?”

He looked amused at her question but answered, barely moving his mouth, “No we are not, but by your standards we may as well be. Our people are able to live…” he quietly counted and then continued, “thousands of your Earth years, as long as we take care of our beings. I will have you speak with the healers to let you know what you can expect, since you’ve been ingesting
gaiata
since coming on board. One thing I can tell you is that your day will start to elongate to match ours. Our days are twice as long as yours. We usually require a rest period of about ten to twelve of your Earth equivalent hours, but where you would sleep twice, we sleep once.”

“So you’re saying I will stay up for twice as long as I used to?”

“Ah yes, you have a better way of explaining. That is correct. One of our days equals two of yours. But I will make certain the healers give you a complete evaluation to let you know what else to expect.”

Hearing the mention of the healers again, she felt guilt creep up. In all her enjoyment of spending time with Tordin, not once had she asked or even thought about Phoebe. She was so selfish. Phoebe could be fighting for her life, and here she was trying to figure out how to climb this mountain of a man.

Kyra shook her head in disgust, then she remembered she wore the disk. She hoped she wasn’t doing her usual thing and talking to herself. A quick look back at him, and he seemed none the wiser. Then she asked, “Tordin, would it be possible for me to visit Phoebe? I want to make sure she knows I’m nearby and here for her.” That sounded good, but she knew she’d said it more to make her feel like less of a jerk. Kyra had to go to Phoebe and make it up to her. Her plans to stay on the ship would have to wait until she was sure Phee was all right.

“Of course. I can escort you there personally when we’re finished or take you to your new quarters. It is up to you. The only thing I require is that you drink some
gaiata
now. Your system is getting weaker by the moment.”

“How can you tell how my system is doing? You don’t have a scanner do you?”

“Yes and no. I am able to sense your heartbeat, energy levels, blood flow, breathing and other things. My senses include the five you know of and some more that are sharper than those of the Terrains, I mean Earthians.”

“So you have powers like a super hero? Like you have x-ray vision, can hear an ant crawling and stuff like that?”

Tordin laughed so loud, his voice threatened to shatter her consciousness. When her hands came up to her ears, she saw him rush toward her and then halt just before touching her. He looked pained and said, “Kyra, dear Kyra, I forgot myself. I apologize for my explosion of emotion while you still wore the vo-link. It won’t happen again. Are you all right?”

“I don’t know; can’t you tell me?” she said, not understanding how his voice managed to sound like God blasting in her ears.

Then she did get it. He said they’d come to her planet thousands of years ago and interacted with them. Both his and Malm’s voices could easily be mistaken for a god’s if someone listening to them were none the wiser. They must have given those people ways to communicate with them like this vo-link thing. And in turn, the people thought they were speaking with God. Tordin admitted his heightened abilities and senses. Couple his presence with
gaiata
, and the ancients could have easily mistaken him for a god. Someone with less knowledge of space and the worlds beyond Earth might well draw that conclusion. He was the superhero of her world. She was standing in front of the real superman! This was breakthrough stuff.

She couldn’t help herself and asked, “So you are the people my people must have thought were gods and superheroes?”

“Yes,” he said, a clouded expression washing over his face. He turned to busy himself with the glass tablet before speaking again, not looking at her. “The Pyramids and whole Mount Olympus thing were some of our greatest embarrassments and low points. My ancestors liked to play around with the Earthians. They dishonored your race, and the practice of vacationing on Earth was stopped for that reason. The name Olympus is even a mangled name for Olodia. To be fair, that was a mixture of Olodians and our cousins from a near by galaxy, the Herodians. Malm is half Herodian and can better explain how they excel at flight and other gifts. Where we Olodians have hyper-acute senses, they have flight and can manipulate a planet’s elements. We all have these capabilities to some degree, it’s just that over time each galaxy has become stronger in one set or another. But we are all able to do these things if the need arises.”

Kyra’s mouth was dry. She realized it had been hanging open as she listened to Tordin. They could fly and manipulate elements? These aliens had built the Pyramids and been the freaking Olympians! Zeus, Hera and the gang were aliens having a good time playing with the stupid Earthians. No wonder these men all looked like Egyptian and Greek gods walking around in the flesh—because they were!

“
P
hee you’re not going
to believe what I’ve managed to get us into this time,” she said in a whisper, trying hard to cope with seeing her friend suspended in the blue-green liquid Tordin called
gaiata
. “We’re on an alien ship headed to a galaxy forty light years away from Earth. And heads up, they look like Egyptian and Greek gods, because they basically are.”

Phoebe was totally submerged in the stuff. There were no tubes or intrusive needles or machines beeping or monitoring anything. She was dressed in a beautiful gown that floated about her, revealing none of her private parts while she was in suspension. It was as if she were floating underwater in a blue-green pool while she slept.

She looked so peaceful. Kyra could tell she was breathing only by the slight rise and fall of her chest cavity. It was weird knowing that her friend wasn’t drowning. And she had to admit, if nothing else, Phoebe looked amazing, if improving on her looks were even possible.

The healers were gracious and quite knowledgeable, as well. Although they resembled the other the huge men, they themselves looked identical, like they were triplets. Their presence was ancient and beyond any wisdom she’d known. Before she could verbalize her next question, one of the three answered and added more information to help her understand.

She asked about the state of Phoebe’s condition and they informed her, “Phoebe is in the deep sleep and will emerge when she is ready and healed.”

Kyra had a hard time accepting that there was nothing they could do to bring Phoebe out of the coma; she continued to ask questions to probe possibilities they might not have considered.

“Could you use the
gaiata
to go into her head and help repair her brain? Isn’t
gaiata
like the all powerful fountain of life?”

One of them spoke with patience and kindness. His deep voice was soft and comforting, giving off a parental or more like a grandfatherly vibe when he said, “Bright one, your tenacity in wanting quick healing for your nigh relative is admirable. Yes, we could do more invasive things to manipulate her healing, but we will not. It is not the way of Creation, and the Goddess has her time for all things. We do not invade; we support and assist in healing. Your nigh relative is on the proper path and time. We can tell you she will awaken, but in her own timing. To force or attempt to control that would be akin to striking down her soul. So we employ patience, which can be a healing in itself, bright one.”

Talk about feeling like a kid being chastised. It reminded her of when she’d been rebuked as a child for wanting to do something harmful, like pour salt on a snail or some other cruel, heedless thing. Kyra felt like slime. They were right.

She left the area and found her new quarters. She’d learned that the original room was actually part of the Healing Section. This set of rooms was spacious. When she entered the area where food and nourishment were stored, like a kitchen, Kyra remembered to drink a large container of
gaiata
. It had no taste, just like water, but it was refreshing and almost addictive. She felt great after she drank what could have been a few liters of the stuff. Her body craved it and was rewarded with a burst of energy.

When Malm showed up to show her around the ship, she was amazed at how long it the tour took, and he said they’d only covered the main areas. She wanted to get her bearings. Not having a watch or completely understanding the time on board threatened to make her go a little nuts. She felt like she’d been up for a day, but her body wasn’t tired. It didn’t feel like it was time to go to bed, so she decided to take another cleansing bath.

A long time later, she came into the sleeping area to find another closed-off space that contained new clothes and shoes—all in her size. This was like having a fairy godmother. She busied herself playing dress-up for what felt like a few more hours and then finally felt the urge to sleep.

K
yra fell into an easy routine
. She went to the operations section, about a twenty-minute walk from her quarters. She began to learn the systems and the symbol language, which reminded her of ancient script. Everyone was patient and kind, showing her how they operated. Their applications and methods were so far ahead of what she and others on Earth were doing, she felt like a toddler in an operating room. There was so much to learn and grow into. It was as if her prayers to learn and become her best had been answered.

Another thing fascinated her about them, as well. She noticed the operations crew all had the ability to sense the machinery. When she asked about it, the lead warrior instructed her to drink as much
gaiata
as her body craved, continue to learn the system and their language and give it time. He said her senses would grow the more
gaiata
she drank and as she interacted with the ship. She learned that whatever the duty, the Olodians’ senses would intensify to interact with it—especially if they did it often. They became one with the task or job.

That was cool.

Also cool was how much Phoebe improved each day Kyra came to visit. By the third visit, she saw a pattern emerging. A few times, she’d seen Jalek coming to sit with Phoebe when she was leaving. Kyra could tell he was in awe of the comatose woman, staring at her with wonderment. She didn’t know how long Jalek stayed, but she could tell he had feelings for her friend and was diligent about coming to sit with her.

She felt sad for him, though, after making her discovery. Phoebe just lay there, having no response either to her or to Jalek. She thought her friend was in a coma like those she’d seen in films back on Earth—she’d become a vegetable, unable to move or do anything. The real breakthrough Kyra needed to feel good about Phoebe’s progress came when Malm joined her a few times to visit and check in on Phoebe.

The healers would ask Malm to hold her hand, and when he did, Phoebe moved her arms and legs a little. She seemed to respond to his touch. Malm remained still, sitting next to the container and holding her hand as the dutiful servant and warrior he was. He would do this for as long as the healers wanted him to. Kyra admired him and was grateful for his act of kindness toward her friend.

It was also weirdly calming to watch him with Phoebe. Kyra realized that while Jalek was only allowed to sit with Phoebe, the healers asked Malm to touch her, almost like a form of rehabilitation therapy. Each time he did, Phoebe’s range of motion appeared to increase. The healers made notes on a glass tablet like Tordin’s and made small adjustments to the angle and position of the container. The lighting in Phoebe’s room appeared to simulate the light of a full day. When Kyra came to visit at the beginning of her day, the room looked like it was morning. When she visited at the end of her day, depending on how late she came, it looked like afternoon or evening in the room. Kyra marveled at the healers and their methods.

Their ways were starting to rub off on her, as well. She asked them about touch and what it meant to the patient. She secretly wanted to know why she wanted to touch Tordin so badly. The urge hadn’t left, and the only reason she was able to contain herself was that she rarely saw him now.

One of them replied, “Touch is the conduit to your essence. The right touch has the power to heal and to make you whole, whereas the wrong one can deplete and crush your life spark. You, bright one, have been touched by the Goddess and your unction. You are whole and will perform wondrous feats with your chosen. Be encouraged that you have found your path, and it will reward you for embarking on the journey. Do not allow your temporal sight to dictate what your eternal one knows. Be diligent and steadfast, holding onto what is truth. Remember, bright one, fact is the temporary appearance of what you might expect, but truth is the consistent thread running through your life spark.”

Talk about a deep answer. That was what she got for asking a being most likely older than the Himalayan mountains what touch meant. All she could do was remain quiet and try to plaster a gracious smile on her face. His words had managed to confound and silence her. The words felt alive, like they were traveling deep down into her psyche. She had no clue what he meant, but something, like some power or source, restrained her from asking for clarification.

When she thought about his words later, they came back to her like a recording, word for word. She wasn’t able to turn them around and analyze them in her normal way. No, they remained as they had been delivered, in their totality. She felt like the words had a life unto themselves and could not be changed by interpretation and analysis. They were and would be as they were delivered. She would know what they meant when they were ready, not when she was.

Was this how her life would be among the aliens? Would she always be in reactive mode from here on, always having to respond to what was new and unknown?

She would have to give up the control that comes from knowing or risk losing her mind. It was as if this world required her to walk by some elusive faith in the unseen and unchartered. That was not her way. She was a woman of science and technology. To make sense of her world, things had to add up. One plus one had to equal two, or she was lost and confused, and this upset her.

She wanted Phoebe to awaken and help her. Phoebe was more the spiritual one and would know what to make of all this. The healers’ way was to let things take their course. The more she interacted with them, the more she was certain they were older than the dirt on Earth. Their perception of time was vastly different from hers. And why did they call her ‘bright one’? They never called her Kyra, and it was starting to make her question how much they knew about her.

She was about to leave Phoebe and go to her rooms for what seemed like evening on board. She had this urge to go. No, it was more like she was drawn to stand and move. Maybe she would walk and explore the ship some more. Most of the crew would have departed to their rooms or to the central part of the ship, where they gathered and socialized in a lounge area. She knew she didn’t feel like being around too many others, so she might try to find a library or media room.

She stood to leave and noticed Tordin stood in the entry to Phoebe’s room. She hated the fact that she hadn’t sensed his presence. Although when she thought about it, the air had seemed to get warmer, and she’d had the urge to get up, move and leave. Was he the reason for this? Kyra took a step back into the room to allow him entry. She watched as he neared Phoebe’s container to look at her.

“She looks a lot better than when she was first brought in. The healers tell me she will make a full recovery.”

Kyra didn’t know what to say. His being so close was wreaking havoc with her ability to function and form coherent sentences. It was as if she’d short-circuited. She hadn’t been this close to him since the day she’d fainted in his office. That was days ago but felt more like an eternity now. She took a step toward him and watched with dismay as he took a few steps toward the other side of Phoebe’s container, as if to put it between them like some sort of barrier. Did he know how much she wanted to touch and be near him?

Oh no, do I disgust him?

The thought drove a spear of pain through her that took her breath away. If she made him feel anything like Brantley’s unwanted attention made her feel, she’d be sick. Who was she kidding? There was no way Tordin would be interested in her.

For all he knew, she was just the little Earthian refugee running around, trying to fit in. She offered nothing in the way of great accomplishment or personal beauty. She was average-looking, homeless and completely dependent on his graciousness for her survival. She was his guest, or more likely burden, who also had the hots for him. She had to make herself realize how stupidly she was behaving. Once again, she’d been a fool when it came to the affairs of the heart. She didn’t understand men or how to deal with them.

When she was able to regain a normal intake of air, Kyra chose to make light of her hurt feelings by completely suppressing them. She put on her best smile. She could do this, but not if she had to look at him.

She looked at Phoebe’s sleeping form and said, “Yes, the healers are amazing. I’m in awe of what they are able to accomplish. Phoebe is doing better, and I trust the healers that she will wake in her own time.” She paused to take in breath, since she’d not taken one during that entire reply. Then she added, “Thank you again, Tordin, for taking us in and being so kind. I don’t know that any of us would be alive if it hadn’t been for your kindness. You saved our lives, and for that I will always be in your debt.”

She looked up at him to see a quick look of affection. He was looking at Phoebe. Kyra’s heart sank to a new level of despair. Even in a coma, Phoebe rendered every male in her presence a drooling idiot. Phoebe looked almost angelic. She couldn’t blame Tordin when she compared the two, now almost side by side. What was she thinking? There was no way she could ever compete with Phoebe.

Kyra remained silent, not knowing what to do next. She was immediately reduced once again to that awkward woman in her friend’s shadow. What could she say to the most perfect man she’d ever met when there was Phoebe? She watched as he continued to look down at the real life Sleeping Beauty. At that moment, Kyra hated her and then, just as quickly, hated herself for thinking that way about the woman who had done so much for her.