XVIIChill Out

Protea

"The fucking moon?!"

Kruger had not stopped chanting that phrase for the ten minutes since we crash landed on the icy rock. "How the fucking fuck did you manage that, Abbott? Fuck you, you raging kur! How the fuck are we supposed to get off this fucking rock?!"

If one was not accustomed to the word 'fuck', they would certainly be acclimatized to it now. Luckily, all of us aboard were fluent in Kruger's abrasive tongue. He began shouting in what I suspected was Afrikaans, drowning out the interjections of his crew. I saw Drakey flinch and laugh several times as Kruger roared. He must know or speak Kruger's language, for he seemed to understand perfectly clear what the boss man was shouting.

This lasted for several more minutes, and by the time he was finished, Kruger's face and neck were beet red. If he were to kill anyone on this ship, I could only pray it wasn't me, the stow-away. He paced like a caged tiger, anger burning fiercely in his eyes. Behind the anger, I could clearly see fear. The humanity I saw in Kruger now was odd, and I was wary of it, afraid that the emotions he was showing were an act, a façade. However impossible it seemed, it seemed as though Agent Kruger had changed since we parted.

I wonder if that's my doing…

My speculation was short lived. Kruger glared down at me from my seat. "Get up."

With military discipline, I complied, bolting upright and even finding the audacity to salute him. The befuddled reaction I had gotten from him was worth the risk. As I rubbed my cheek, Kruger panted hard through his nose, trying to control his breathing. He looked at me, but he yelled at Crowe. "How long until we're up and running?"

Crowe had had enough of his boss's demanding tongue and thundered over to him. "We've blown a fucking engine, Kruger. A fucking engine!" He leaned in a little closer to his commander. "It's fucking Abbott's fault, boss. I say send him out to patch the fucking thing."

Kruger considered this for a moment. "You know this ship better than him, Crowe. I trust you to git the job done right."

Crowe's eyebrows tipped up as his shoulders sagged in utter disbelief. I heard Drakey burst out laughing as he pointed a finger at the bewildered pilot.

"Ha-ha! Crowe's gonna walk on the moon!" He seemed to realize exactly what he was saying, and dropped his humor. Suddenly, with a burst of enthusiasm he shouted, "Can I go, too?"

Kruger rolled his eyes at the boy's ludicrous request. "Shut up," he snapped crossly. Drakey pouted exaggeratedly and flicked Kruger the middle finger. He crossed his arms and sat crumpled at the end of the bench.

Kruger returned his attention to me, anxious enough to address me without his usual swagger. "You're from the palace, ain't you? Got any contacts up thea that could fetch us down hea?"

My brow furrowed in confusion. I couldn't understand why Kruger was asking for Elysian back-up from a stow-away. I guessed that he was just as desperate to get off this bloody rock as I was.

"Who do you think I am? The FBE? No, I don't have any contacts from Elysium. The only contact I have…"

"What, girl? Spit it out!"

I thought hard. Who did I know anywhere that could get a craft into space? Who had a craft? Who would be able to get me all the way up here, who owed me a favor for said craft?

"Spider…"

"Eh? The fuck you talking about?"

"Yes! Yes! I can call him! He'll come get me! Why didn't I think of that before?" I gasped for breath, and looked at the bewildered Kruger. "I need to use the radio!" Without an answer, I sprinted across the hanger to between the pilots' seats, trying to locate the radio. When I didn't find it, I shouted back at Kruger, "Where is it? The radio?"

Kruger stormed over, and Drakey hopped along behind. "What are you talking about, lass?" He grasped my collar, making me look into his eyes. I admit, I was still afraid of him, but for some reason it seemed like I had gotten used to his danger. Bad ice to tread on, Protea…

I swallowed my fear and steadied my gaze. "I have someone who might be able to get me – us – out of here."

Kruger looked at me, and I swore I saw a glimmer of emotion behind his hooded eyes; hope, perhaps, or gratitude. "Where is he, then? This Spida?"

I answered quickly, not thinking straight. "Earth." I slammed my mouth shut immediately. Why was my mouth suddenly so loose? Maybe I'm getting moon fever, maybe that's a thing.

"W-what?"

Kruger stammered. He looked at me for a long time. Drakey piped up with something, but Kruger paid no attention to him. He was too caught up in his own thoughts, caught in the moment of looking at me. Looking into me. I found this moment more unsettling than any glare-down or violent outburst, not in the same way, but on a deeper emotional level. He released my collar, but kept his hands on my shoulders. His hands clenched tightly around my arms and he pulled me close to him, studying me at a closer proximity. I yelped in surprise and pain, confused as to what was happening or about to happen. I saw his lower lip tremble slightly and his eyes narrow with what seemed to be pain, until they crinkled upwards. It occurred to me that he looked older than before, but maybe that was just the unkempt status of everything about him. His beard was longer, too, like the "depression beard" my hacker friend once wore when his wife left him. Kruger had the same look of depression as Hullo had had. For a moment, I felt pity, real pity, for the once heartless cobra.

"What's wrong, Kruger?" I muttered blankly, genuinely concerned for my own safety at the moment. I knew a question like that could get me beaten, especially with Kruger being so nervous about being trapped on the moon.

He just stared, brow furrowed in concentration. Even when Crowe shouted in the background about what Kruger was doing, the commander didn't flinch. "It can't be…" He finally mumbled.

I froze.

"What did you say your name was, again?" he asked breathlessly.

What was he getting at?

"I didn't…"

"It can't be you…" Kruger muttered under his breath, mostly to himself. He lowered his head in the agony of remembrance. When he looked back at me, I knew he knew. His green eyes, his humanity, shone through the dull light of the hanger. I melted slightly. "P-Protea?"

If I had not been listening so intently, I would not have heard the tiny whisper. I felt a lump catch in my throat, either from fear or sentiment. For some reason, I felt relieved that I had been found out, but at the same time, I feared what would become of me now. And for some reason, I pictured Kruger rejecting my new form, and pulverizing it until I was unrecognizable. My fleeting thoughts were put at ease when he suddenly pulled me into an embrace.

I could feel the entire room still. Nothing and no one was moving. I evaluated my situation. It was beautiful and dangerous at the same time. Agent Kruger was hugging me. I stared blankly over his shoulder, not moving at all. Kruger's arms quivered, and I could feel his muscles tighten around me in a sturdier embrace. I feared briefly that he would simply crush me. I was honestly surprised I hadn't been crushed already. But no, he simply held me. Cautiously, and unwillingly, my hands raised themselves to hover above Kruger's waist in my limited maneuverability. Then, without me telling them to, they wrapped themselves around him.

A sudden and violent wave of adrenaline washed over me. I didn't care where I was. I could be on Elysium, on Earth, or even on the moon. I didn't care. All I cared about was that I was in this man's arms. It was in that moment, I knew I was safe in such proximity to such a deadly serpent.

I felt my eyes burn slightly, and the lump in my throat got bigger and harder to swallow. In a gesture of true emotion, my arms tightened around Kruger's waist, and I leaned into his shoulder. I felt him stiffen nervously. His hands shifted, one remaining wrapped around my back while the other moved upwards. I felt a mild pinch in my neck, and fell limp against Kruger before plummeting into a deep sleep.