(no subject)
The Wau boy came running into the village, yipping something about a ghost girl. A human ghost girl. No one believed him, of course, until she staggered into the outer ring of streets and was spotted by the boy’s mother.
“See, I told you!”
The pink-haired human child looked as outlandish and out of place as possible in the rural Wau village. Few villagers currently living there had even visited the capital city, where the great ships launched and the various races of the galaxy were commonly seen. The Wau who were in the area, mostly mothers and elderly, stared openly until the girl collapsed in the street.
That finally broke the tableau. One of the mothers rushed over to examine the fallen human. “She’s just a child!” she exclaimed.
“Starved almost to death, poor thing.” Another mother had approached, made brave by not being the first.
It was true. The human girl was clearly dehydrated and malnourished. How long ago her last meal had been was anybody’s guess.
“All right, that’s enough gawking. Fowry, get the medic.” Once Fowry’s mother had taken charge the tension seemed to snap, and an excited buzz began among the crowd. Fowry, the boy who’d first spotted her, galloped off to get the village doctor.
Knowing it would take the foolish young medic too blasted long to respond, Fowry’s mother Rowd gathered up the unconscious girl and carried her into her nearby home.
“You’re crazy, Rowd,” one of the older men exclaimed. “What if she’s dangerous? You’ve got pups to think of.”
“Don’t be absurd, Horu. She’s half-dead, and she’s probably Juraian. They’re no more dangerous than you are.” Rowd continued inside, setting the body on a couch.
“Juraian? What makes you say that?” Horu had followed, heedless of the impropriety of entering another’s home uninvited.
“The hair, for one thing. By her clothes she’s no hunter, and too under-muscled for ever having farmed.” Rowd set a pot of broth on the heater, casting a sidelong glance at Horu and the press of curious faces at the door.
“Welcome to my home, Horu.” Her tone said it all.
He had the good grace to look ashamed, but there was smugness to it too. Being nosy and pushy paid off now and then. No one else had been welcomed, so the faces at the window dispersed, still chattering excitedly.
Horu sat at Rowd’s kitchen table, still staring avidly at the little girl. “Looks like a mutant, doesn’t she?”
Rowd made an indelicate sound. “Humans look like that all the time. She’s probably quite normal, no matter how odd she looks to us.” The distinct lack of fur and no muzzle made for a discordant look, but there weren’t any apparent malformations.
The stranger didn’t stir at all for the first hour, so Horu kept pestering Rowd with questions and pronouncements of doom. Having been welcomed, he was not going to give up the chance to see the human wake up unless he was asked to leave.
Rowd had been right not to wait for the medic. He didn’t arrive until nearly two hours had passed since Fowry had gone to fetch him. At that, Fowry was near to dragging the skeptical medic, professing all the while that he wasn’t making it up, honest!
“I never knew your boy to tell tales before, Rowd.” Charik the medic said, nose in the air.
“Then why think he’s telling one now, Charik?” Rowd said just as haughtily. The medic’s attitude irritated her.
“Really. A human child? Here?” His obvious contempt for his rural surroundings was apparent in his every word, and it set Rowd’s teeth on edge.
So it gave her great pleasure to point at the tattered child, still sleeping or unconscious on the couch. “I presume you are able to tend to humans? They taught you all kinds of things at that school, right?”
Charik gawped. “She’s real!”
“Obviously. You’re not afraid of her, are you?” For the medic hadn’t moved a muscle since spotting her.
“No, no.” He finally began acting like a medic, looking the girl over, finding a pulse, verifying that there were no broken bones. “She isn’t in immediate danger, but if she doesn’t eat or drink soon, she will die.” He looked at her eyes, deeply sunken in dark bruised-looking sockets. “Humans aren’t meant to go so long without sleep, either. Especially at this age.” Charik frowned. “Did you see the way her tunic is ripped?” He pointed.
‘Ripped’ wasn’t really the right word for it. ‘Shredded’, even ‘clawed’ was more accurate.
Horu, who’d been dancing in his seat watching everything, piped up. “Those are gamaline claw marks!”
“Impossible! She’d never survive, much less escape!” Charik scoffed. Gamalines, large felids who were known to take even full grown Wau men in the hunt, were the most dangerous creatures on the planet.
“That’s what they look like to me, too.” Rowd spoke softly. She’d seen those marks before, and they nearly always meant death. If the initial attack wasn’t fatal, infection usually finished the job.
“She’s the luckiest human in the universe then, to have escaped without a scratch.” That was hard to believe, especially as there was evidence of blood on the stranger’s clothes.
“I’ll keep her.” Rowd said decisively.
“You’ll what?! She needs-” Charik started to protest.
“She needs food and water and rest; and attention. I’ve got pups to tend anyway, and Fowry to help me, so it’s no bother.” Her voice carried a hint of iron.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to tend to her?” Charik did seem sincere, but Rowd knew that the young man wouldn’t know the first thing about dealing with a child like a person.
Firmly Rowd declined the offer. “We’ll be fine, won’t we?” She patted young Fowry on the shoulder. The boy was nearly thirteen Galactic standard years old and was over the moons with excitement.
“We’ll take care of her!” he said, trying to sound as grown up as possible.
“And you, Horu, can go home now.” Rowd looked sternly at the neighborhood busybody. “Come back tomorrow if you like, but hovering over the poor child won’t do you or her any good.” Privately, Rowd also thought that Horu would give their guest the wrong impression of their village’s idea of hospitality.