Having a single opposable thumb on each hand didn’t hinder her dexterity. She wielded the fork and other implements with ease.Then again, humans would craft tools to fit their hands.
“Did you see any other humans in town?” Was the one who shot him still around? Of course, he hadn’t been shot in town but in the woods.
She hesitated. Then: “No.”
Was she telling the truth? Or did she wish to hide the fact she’d encountered others? Nothing was simple or straightforward anymore. He sighed.
She stared at him with a question in her eyes.
“You and I do not share much trust,” he said.
She snorted. “On that, we can agree.”
After they finished their meals, she collected his plate and the harmless fork. “You are no longer gray. Your skin is silver again.”
He glanced down. His shirt, which she’d cut open to tend his wound, hung on his frame, leaving his chest bare. She was right. His natural luminescence had returned. “How did you know this is normal for me?”
“In the early days, there were news videos.” Her lips tightened, and she left the room.
Chapter Nine
Laurel dropped the black packet onto Grav’s bed.
“What’s that?”
“Cleansing wipes. For personal hygiene.” The prepper had left a plastic tub of biodegradable wipes, which she had been using when she didn’t feel like hauling water from the creek.
Four days had passed since she’d dragged the albatross to the cave and a couple of days since her first hot shower in a year. She’d been washing up with a cleansing cloth and fantasizing about her next hot shower when it occurred to her that she’d failed to provide for her prisoner’s hygiene. She assumed the Progg cleaned themselves in some way.
“Don’t want him to start to stink. I have to live with him—at least for a little while longer,” she’d muttered.
Now, he opened the package and sniffed. “No scent!” He looked pleased.
“That’s good?”
“We have a sensitive sense of smell. The odors on Earth are overpowering.”
Maybe you shouldn’t have invaded, then.“The wipes are used by campers and hunters who don’t want perfumes. Put the dirty ones in the commode.” She averted her gaze from the gratitude in his arresting blue-blue eyes.
Most creatures have eyes. Predators have eyes. Does the gazelle think, ‘Gee, that lioness intending to have me for dinner sure has pretty eyes’?
But eyes as blue as his appeared innocent, and, when filled with gratitude or humor, made him seem deceptively harmless. She had to keep reminding herself who he was, what he’d done—what his people had done. He’d claimed to not have killed anyone, but did that matter? She had to blame somebody—why not him? He may not have done it himself, but he’d aided and abetted it.
“You can clean up while I get breakfast.” She stomped out of the chamber. A prisoner wasn’t entitled to privacy; however, the prospect of catching a glimpse of alien junk disgusted her.
Mostly.
She’d gone into nursing because she wished to help people in a meaningful, personal way. The schooling was affordable, the career portable, and employment prospects excellent, but if she’d indulged her curiosity and secret whim, she would have become a medical researcher.
So, she couldn’t help wondering how his plumbing differed from human. Thus far, the only differences she’d noted between him and her people were the two thumbs on each hand, hair like a porcupine, and silver skin that grayed when he was ill.
And the odd smile. It had taken her a while to realize what was “off” about it. He had no canines! Given the aliens’ predatory nature, she would have expected sharp, lethal fangs, but he had a mouthful of blunt teeth. Having learned he was a plant eater, the lack of canines suddenly made sense.
His teeth were meant for cutting and grinding plant material, in contrast to omnivore humans who had teeth for cutting, grinding,andslashing meat.
The murderous aliens who had decimated an entire race of beings were vegans who wouldn’t harm a hair on a hare’s head. Go figure.
“Check your assumptions at the door, girl.” She rifled through the tubs of packaged survival rations and the shelf of canned goods, trying to find something edible for him. Yesterday, she’d fed him oatmeal with freeze-dried strawberries. Unless she gave him the same today or more power bars, she had few options. Typical meatless breakfast foods still contained animal proteins from eggs, milk, or cheese.
