The fact that her eyes still glowed and she didn’t protest made clear the suffering she battled.
Jak’ri leaned to one side and grabbed the medic bag. Since it was designed for use in a variety of combat situations, its contents remained dry. After retrieving the supplies he needed, he opted to tend her stomach wound first. Unlike the others, it still bled.
Jak’ri sprayed it liberally with the retsa and watched the cleanser swell into thick white foam that turned pink before melting away like water.
He patted it dry with a sterile medicloth.
Ava sighed. “That helps. The ocean water stung like fire.”
Drek. He hadn’t even thought about that. He’d been too focused on whether they would survive the jump. Before he did anything else, he sprayed the deep laceration with imaashu to deaden the pain.
Her tense features relaxed even more. “Oh yeah,” she breathed as she closed her eyes. “That’s the good stuff.”
Jak’ri retrieved a tube of cobruhk next. Carefully pinching the sides of the gash together, he applied the wound sealant.
The bleeding finally ceased.
Relieved, he topped it with a bandage and adhered it to her skin with the clear kesaadi he’d coated the bottom of her feet with. Then he did the same with the cuts on her arms, her thigh, and one on her shoulder near her neck.
That one sent a chill skittering through him. Had the blade that carved it struck two or three fingers to the left, the grunark who wielded it might’ve severed her artery and caused her to bleed out.
The cut on her forehead ended up being shallow. So he just cleaned it and sprayed it with the imaashu.
Once the newest injuries were all taken care of, Jak’ri checked the gash that split the arch of her foot.
It was now only a slim scar.
Nevertheless, he cleaned both of her feet and again coated them with the kesaadi.
“Thank you,” she murmured sleepily.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then tucked the supplies back into the medic bag.
“What about you?” she asked. “Any wounds I need to tend?”
He shook his head. “I’m distressingly free of injuries.”
She smiled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Try though he might, he couldn’t find an answering smile. “The fact that you’re injured and I’m not makes me feel as though I failed you.”
Yet no condemnation darkened her features. Instead, she sat up and leaned in close to press an affectionate kiss to his lips. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t kill any of the assholes I fought, honey. I just distracted them. You, on the other hand, killed at least half a dozen. You reduced their numbers.”
He brushed her lips with a light kiss. “According to my translator, honey is a sticky, sweet, golden substance produced by insects on Earth.”
Amusement sparkled in her eyes as the amber glow faded to brown. “It’s also the English equivalent of the Purveli endearment sakara.”
He rubbed noses with her. “Shall I call you honey then?”
She grinned. “You can call me anything you want, handsome.”
Jak’ri pressed another loving kiss to her lips, then wrapped his arms around her and just held her close, happy they’d survived another skirmish with the Gathendiens, relieved they would have more time together.
She kissed his neck. “Considering how I’d like to spend that time with you,” she said, having read his thoughts, “I’m thinking you’re right.” She patted the large leaf beneath her. “We might need a few more of these leaves for a cushier bed.”
He laughed. “I’ll go get them now.”
It took him longer than he’d hoped. The island might be small when compared to the continent they’d left behind, but it was more mountainous, the ground sloping steeply enough that it was more of a climb than a hike. And the trees that bore the leaves he sought were, of course, farther away.
He found some of the berries and fruit they’d been enjoying since they’d landed on K-54973 and filled his pack with them. He’d already picked quite a bit on his first foray but would like to limit their time aboveground as much as he could. And the water in the subterranean cavern was cold enough to keep the fruit fresh longer if they stored it in the medic bag and submerged it.
Surprisingly, the island bore some of the same wildlife they’d seen on the continent: leapers, large simians Ava likened to gorillas on Earth, and hoofed, antler-bearing mammals. He didn’t know if that meant those animals were exceptional swimmers or if the winters here were simply harsh enough to freeze the ocean’s surface and allow them passage in the coldest months. Either way, the realization that he and Ava weren’t the only significant heat signatures to be found here relieved his mind.
Ava was asleep when he returned and didn’t rouse at his approach.
It left him uneasy, as did her pallor.
Jak’ri set the leaves and fruit aside and started unpacking the supply bag he’d lugged through the sea. It, too, he was surprised to discover, was waterproof, no doubt to protect both weaponry and rations from decay. So he filled it with the rest of the fruit and berries he’d collected. Keeping it submerged in the water proved to be a bit of a challenge. He had to use his spare pair of shorts to tie it to the thick stalks of the water plants.
Satisfied with the results, he doffed his shirt and pants and spread them out on the sand to dry. The luminescent ore in the walls and moss on some of the surfaces provided enough light for him to see without a hesku. They might need the heat the remaining heskus could provide, though, if the temperature dropped.
Jak’ri arranged their weapons—including the stun grenades—so they would be within easy reach. Then he lay beside Ava on his back, his shoulder touching hers. He wanted to roll them both onto their sides and curl his body protectively around hers. But he often wrapped an arm around her waist when he did—either consciously to snuggle her closer or unconsciously in his sleep—and he didn’t want to risk putting any pressure on her abdomen. The imaashu would prevent her from experiencing pain the contact would ordinarily engender that might alert them if she started bleeding again.
It was a deep wound. He would be consumed with worry if she hadn’t repeatedly assured him she was very hard to kill now.
Even so, he feared for her well-being. So he settled for just the simple contact of his shoulder against hers… after ensuring it wouldn’t aggravate the cut on her arm.
Sighing, he closed his eyes and wished for the thousandth time that Ziv’ri were still with them.
Tears pricked his closed lids.
I miss you, brother, he mentally broadcast to the cosmos as grief rose. We both do. He slid his hand closer to Ava and clasped hers.
Mourning Ziv’ri’s loss had been made all the harder by the fact that Jak’ri hadn’t seen his brother die. Hadn’t been able to claim his body for the traditional Purveli ceremony that marked the passing of his life force from this plane to the next. Hadn’t told him goodbye.
Part of him still didn’t want to believe it and thought acknowledging his brother’s death was a betrayal when he should be out there searching for him instead.
But they had searched for him. They’d risked everything to search each of the labs and holding cells on the Gathendien ship before they’d left it. They’d called out to him over and over again for days. And the Gathendiens hadn’t dosed Ava with nahalae, so she would’ve heard his responses if Ziv’ri had made any.