Enemy Mine

Chapter 1-2

“I flip a few Tarot cards at the shops in Uptown,” I said, my tone careless.

“It’s much more than that. I was watching you, back at the communications center at the base. I saw it in your eyes. Recognition. Resignation.”

The room was not cold — in fact, it was slightly warmer than what I found comfortable, a concession to the Reptilians’ physiology, no doubt — but a shiver went down my spine then. I’d felt Lir Gideon’s gaze on me during that encounter. At the time, I’d been desperately attempting to keep Callista and her parents and Raphael from noticing anything strange about my reaction, but Gideon had obviously seen something.

Because for weeks before that confrontation at the base, I’d been having dreams and flashes, sure signs that something huge and unavoidable was approaching. At first, I hadn’t been able to discern anything except an overwhelming sensation of dread, but as time wore on, I began to catch glimpses of them. The Reptilians, that is. I didn’t say anything to my parents. There was nothing they could have done. I’d known this encounter was approaching with the inexorable power of the tide. It had been inevitable.

What I hadn’t seen was Lir Gideon. Not that he was precisely a surprise, more that the presence of the Reptilians had somehow cloaked him until the time came for me to see him in person. And then when I had stood there in the communications center, silent as I watched Callista try to bargain for her lover Raphael’s life, I’d seen this strange man, not quite human, not quite alien, felt his gaze on me, and I’d known this was what the dreams and visions had been drawing me toward.

Why, I couldn’t say for sure. I supposed time would have to tell me that. For now, I’d just have to remember that everything happened for a reason, even if I couldn’t see what that reason was.

“You’re very observant,” I said, hating that the shaky edge was back in my voice. “No one else seemed to notice.”

“They were focused on other things.”

Had he watched me then the way he watched me now? I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, and I didn’t know what to do about it. Ever since my psychic powers had awakened, I’d done my very best not to go into a person’s mind unless they explicitly invited me — unless they were broadcasting so strongly I had no way of avoiding their thoughts — but right then, I wished I could see even just a little of what Lir Gideon was thinking.

“You knew,” he went on. “I saw that you knew. You had come along with your friend and her parents because you knew in the end it was your presence there that would be the most important.”

“I don’t know about that. Callista had to be there to do what she could to get Raphael back. That was all her decision.”

And then I saw it — a twitch of the muscle in Lir Gideon’s cheek. If I hadn’t been watching him so closely, and if my eyes hadn’t adjusted to the light as much as they had, I know I would never have seen it. But that telltale was enough.

“And you knew, too, didn’t you?” I asked.

“Knew what?”

His pronunciation and inflections were almost perfect. He must have spent a lot of time listening to our various broadcasts and internet videos to get it that close to normal. But something in his voice just then had shifted subtly, and I knew the innocent act was just that — an act. The shift in his voice had coincided with that faint muscle twitch, both of them telling me he must be trying to hide something.

“You knew that I’d seen something, and so you knew I would come along with Callista and her parents. That’s really why you took Raphael. Your boss Lir Shalan only wanted him as bait.”

A faint narrowing of his eyes when I mentioned Lir Shalan. But otherwise, Lir Gideon didn’t react, except to give the faintest of shrugs. “It is true that the person you refer to as Raphael wasn’t that important to us. Or rather, we knew we had to step carefully there, as he is an agent of the Assembly, and there could have been repercussions if he was harmed.”

“But it was okay to take me.”

Face impassive, he asked, “Have you been harmed?”

No, of course I hadn’t. And it wasn’t as if I’d been dragged here against my will. I’d put my hand in Lir Gideon’s, had let him lead me away as that baleful yellow light glared all around us. At the same time, I couldn’t quite puzzle out exactly what was going on. All right, so I had strong psychic powers. I’d understand better if I’d been hauled off to some lab to be dissected. Instead, I was standing here in the Reptilian equivalent of an anonymous hotel room, having a mostly civilized conversation with a man who didn’t seem to be human or Reptilian, or like any of the aliens Callista had described seeing or meeting when she went before the Assembly on the far-off world of Penalta.

“No, I haven’t been harmed,” I said at last. Not yet, anyway, I added mentally.

“Nor will you be. You are our guest, Taryn. I know you have little reason to believe me or trust what I have said to you, but we do not offer hospitality lightly. If you are here with us, you are safe.”

How very noble. Nothing I’d heard so far about the Reptilians seemed to indicate that they followed any sort of code, but I had to admit that all the information I’d been provided so far had come from somewhat biased sources. As for the abductions the aliens had been conducting over the years, well, I decided it was probably better to ask about that later on. Lir Gideon’s tone was even enough, but I thought I could hear an edge of tension to it, as if he was just waiting for me to ask exactly the wrong question and trying to decide what he should do if I did.

“Well, I feel better now,” I said. The words hadn’t come out quite as sarcastically as they might have if someone like Grace was saying them, but neither were they entirely neutral.

Lir Gideon affected not to notice. “I’m pleased to hear that. You should make yourself comfortable here. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you wish to rest?”

Considering I’d gotten out of bed to go meet Callista and her parents not even three hours earlier, it wasn’t quite time for me to go to sleep, as tempting as that might sound. I could crawl into that cubbyhole and try to pretend certain parts of this day had never happened.

“Not hungry, or tired,” I replied. “But some water would be nice.”

As I spoke, I wondered if I could even trust any of the water I’d be given on this ship. After all, I had no idea what the Reptilians considered clean, or healthy. There was always the possibility I’d end up poisoned just because they didn’t know enough about human physiology to provide me with the right things to eat and drink.

If he noted my misgivings, Lir Shalan gave no sign. He went over to the wall on the other side of the table, where there was another of those flat panels, although bigger than the biometric scanner he’d used to gain access to the room.

Which made me realize he could come and go here any time he liked. Including when I was asleep. Could come in here and —

And what? I couldn’t ignore the Reptilians’ history; it was the sort of thing my parents would never discuss openly in front of me, but I knew that the aliens weren’t exactly saints when it came to how they behaved with human women.

Anyway, whatever he was, Lir Gideon definitely wasn’t a Reptilian. Actually, in this light, it was a lot more difficult to see the pale green hue of his skin, or the deep red of his eyes. He almost looked like a normal human man, except for those high-necked robes he was wearing.

“This panel will provide whatever you need,” he said, and I forced myself to concentrate on what he was saying. It would be stupid to miss out on his instructions for using the food replicator or whatever it was just because I was busy manufacturing worst-case scenarios in my head. “It does understand some basic English words, so you can ask for water, or food, and it will supply those things for you.”

“Will it get me a cheeseburger?” I asked, just to see how he would react.

To my surprise, he actually smiled. “It won’t be quite the same, and won’t have the bread component — ”

“The bun.”

He nodded. “Yes, that. But I think you might be surprised. Come and try it for yourself. It will need to learn your voice patterns.”

Wondering how in the world all this could possibly work, I stepped away from the cubbyhole’s entrance, where I’d been standing all this time, and went over to the food synthesizer panel. In doing so, I had to pass quite close to Lir Gideon, who didn’t seem inclined to move out of my way. In fact, the sleeve of my jacket brushed against his robes, and I felt a strange shiver pass over me. Not revulsion. I’d held his hand earlier, and been glad of it. No, this felt more like my body reacting when my brain didn’t know quite what to do.

He didn’t seem to notice, however, so I put on what I hoped was an expression of mild curiosity as I faced the panel embedded in the wall. “What do I have to do?”

“Speak your request. Slowly, so it will not have to work as hard to understand you.”

I had a feeling that if it had been Callista standing here, she would have done something snarky like order a double dirty martini and a plate of nachos. But I couldn’t bring myself to do that. For one thing, I didn’t like martinis very much, and another, I didn’t want to confuse the synthesizer unit.

So I said, “A cheeseburger and some water, please.”

Lir Gideon shifted slightly, possibly from amusement. “You don’t need to say ‘please.’”

No, I supposed a food synthesizer wouldn’t care about the niceties, especially a machine designed by the Reptilians. However, it didn’t appear that I’d confused it too much, because approximately ten seconds later, a blue light flared in the panel, and a plastic door slid out of the way. Sitting inside the recess it revealed was a square metal plate, and on top of that plate was a fairly respectable-looking burger patty with a slice of yellow cheese on top. Off to one side was a square plastic cup, presumably filled with water.

I hesitated, unsure whether it was safe to reach inside and retrieve the plate.

“Go on,” Lir Gideon said, his voice tinged with amusement. “It won’t hurt you.”

So I picked up the plate, which was slightly warm to the touch, along with the cup. Its surface was cool against my fingers. I looked inside and saw clear liquid. It definitely looked like water.

Then again, so did vodka. And formaldehyde.

“Would you like me to drink from it first, to show that it’s safe?”

He wore a half-smile that did interesting things to his full mouth. I tore my gaze away and said, “No, I’m sure it’s fine,” then lifted the cup to my lips.

It did taste like water — nicely chilled high-end mineral water, not something from a tap. My estimation of the Reptilians went up slightly.

The burger, though…without the bun, I wasn’t sure how to eat it without making a mess.

“The utensil is attached to the bottom of the plate,” Lir Gideon said.

I went over to the table and set down the cup of water so I could feel the underside of the plate. Sure enough, there was a square-edged implement that looked like some high-priced European designer had come up with his version of a spork. It seemed to be attached magnetically, because I felt a slight resistance as I pulled it away.

Thus armed with my spork, I didn’t have much reason not to try the burger. I told myself that the water had tasted fine, so the manufactured meat and cheese should be okay, too.

Even so, I hesitated for a long moment, spork poised over the patty as it lay in the middle of the plate. I could feel Lir Gideon watching me, and didn’t dare look up to see whether he was smiling outright this time.

Well, if I’d been brave enough to reach out and put my hand in his, then I should also have the courage to take a bite of the burger. I pulled in a breath, then used the edge of the spork to cut off a small piece of meat and cheese, and placed it in my mouth.

Suddenly, it was summer, and I was at one of the Rineharts’ backyard barbecues, enjoying a burger after spending the afternoon wandering along the banks of Oak Creek. This replicated patty I was eating tasted just as if it had come straight off the grill, with that wonderful mixture of slight charring and a complicated combination of spices rubbed on the surface to wake up the ground beef.

“So?” Lir Gideon asked.

“That’s amazing,” I replied, once I had finished chewing. “It doesn’t taste like it came out of a machine at all. How in the world can one of your food synthesizers duplicate Earth food like that?”

It had seemed like an innocuous enough question, but something in his expression clouded. “It had input from one of your people.”

Oh. It wasn’t too difficult for me to figure out why the Reptilians would have had a human captive around to help them program their food synthesizers. An awkward silence fell, and suddenly, I didn’t have much of an appetite for the rest of the burger, even though it had tasted marvelous only a moment earlier.

But I forced myself to nod, then take a few more bites before I set the plate with its half-eaten patty down on the table. Lir Gideon seemed content to watch me as I did so, not offering anything else by way of conversation, or providing any further explanations. While I wasn’t the sort of person who felt the need to fill up awkward silences by forcing myself to talk, I thought I should try to say something.

“So,” I began, desperately trying to think of a topic that seemed somewhat neutral, “is ‘Lir’ some form of address in your language, like ‘Mr.’ or ‘Ms.’ are in English? I noticed that both you and Lir Shalan were referred to that way.”

“No,” Gideon replied. “‘Lir’ is a surname.” He paused for a second, then went on, “We share it because he is my father.”