Chapter 5

Tarkania

Krystal awoke in her bed looking up at the towering ceiling of her room, the details distorted by her narrow-slit gaze. She blinked once, then twice and everything came into focus with stark clarity. The walls and ceiling were being gently illuminated by small beams of light; it was early morning by her estimate. She yawned and stretched, feeling tense tendons and joints pop. She winced, feeling the sore muscles in her abdomen. She ran a hand along the cream colored fur there. The skin underneath had gone a dark purple in the shape of a malformed fruit barely, resembling the print of the boot that had struck her.

"Yep, it still feels like someone dropped an anvil on my stomach", she thought, laying on her unblemished side to look out her balcony window. Her room was spacious and opulent. The walls were a calming blue navy color with white trim, to her it mimicked the aesthetic of sea waves edged with foam. Framing the entrance to her bedroom balcony were a pair of white curtains that silently shifted and billowed at all hours of the day.

Every morning she would awake to look at those transparent sheets. They seemed to beckon to her, to rise and start the day by walking on the cool smooth concrete of the terrace barefoot to then look down at the sprawling metropolis below. Then she would retreat back inside and set about her daily routine. Today was going to be anything but routine, and it had been so for the past few days.

But there was a part of her that was filled with a sort of eerie giddy excitement. She was going to meet and converse with the strange being that had crash-landed on her planet. "A new completely unique species, and in a few hours I'll be … what …. making small talk with him", she thought, shaking her head slowly in wonder.

After safely transporting the being to the nearest medical facility, her and Meesha worked nonstop to stabilize his condition. The biggest hurdle was addressing the blood loss which had left the man a pale ghost by the time they had him hooked to an I.V. They opted to keep a steady flow of nutrients to help promote blood production, it was all they could hope for while the surrounding healers frantically tried to synthesize a supply of blood. Eventually they had made a hefty gallon blood container that was a seventy five percent match to his blood type. It didn't negate the possibility of blood poisoning but they had no choice.

In the end they rolled the dice, and pumped the blood into his I.V. The entire time Krystal had held his sweat drenched hand, doing her best to keep him awake. The worst part happened after he came to. They had done everything right and by record time; rapidly studying Alex's unique biological makeup and administering chemical treatment at breakneck speed. But it wasn't fast enough to negate all the side effects of blood loss. Krystal had begun to talk to the man who, albeit sluggishly, introduced himself as Alex. She had explained his condition as best as she could, trying to maintain a calm demeanor, reassuring him that he was in capable care. His expression had actually warmed, seeming to become more lucid and conscious.

That was when the seizures started. She knew that it was a possibility, but it saddened her to see him go through it nonetheless. All she could do was let it run its course. After the sixth episode of violent bodily spasms, he was dazed and exhausted. It was another ten hours before his condition was declared stable. When his blood pressure was at a safe level, she then administered a light sedative and left Alex to rest and recover. Whatever species he belonged to, it possessed unnatural endurance and vitality that surpassed anything she had witnessed. He had lost upwards of two-thousand milliliters of blood combined with the seizures, it should have stopped his heart. But he had hung on clinging to life.

That was three days ago, a mere seventy-two hours after Alex's arrival to her planet and the ensuing struggle to save his life. Meesha had insisted Krystal take a few days for leisure time. She agreed, but under the condition that she be able to speak with the patient when he recovered his strength and mental faculties. She reasoned that she would be capable of earning its trust in order to implement a subtle interrogation, nothing confrontational of course. After Krystal had cured the cryo terror, the man hadn't once tried to escape or attack her or the medical staff. In fact he seemed relieved to be in their care and had even thanked her before being sedated. Meesha had kept her in the loop via messages sent to her data link. So far Alex had been cooperative, polite, and calm; a model patient.

Still they took the precaution of keeping him confined to his room along with a dozen guards tucked away in an adjacent room that monitored him discreetly via cameras that were hidden in the corners of his quarters. When it came time for medication and changing the patient's I.V.

Meesha or another nurse on duty would carry out the task under the watch of three guards who were under strict orders to stun him if he resisted. Alex gave no fuss, and cooperated. The only thing he requested was a book to read, seemingly bored with his confinement. Krystal had advised Meesha to agree to the request, but to delay it until his questioning. They needed answers and with the difficulty of reading Alex's mind she would need some enticement to get honest answers. She had no intention of withholding books or giving petty threats of revoking privileges with him.

There were a few suggestions that a more direct and aggressive interrogation be implemented, but Krystal contemptuously dismissed this. He wasn't some malevolent intruder, or some kind of spy, or agent seeking to cause subterfuge. The friendly approach would be the most appropriate.

A sudden harsh breeze swept through her window and caused the drapes to wave more frantically as if to say "Get your lazy butt out of bed Krystal".

She yawned again, wiggled her toes and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She retrieved her white silk morning gown and belted it. She padded barefoot into her bathroom, ran the water into the marble tub. Leaning against the gleaming bowl was a tall black paper bag with a note attached to it. She bent down and plucked it up. She smiled recognizing her mother's neat flowing handwriting.

"Some fresh flow salt for your sore muscles and bruises, be sure to pick up your breakfast in the kitchen before you leave".

"Love you".

She chuckled and picked up the bag now seeing the familiar logo of her mother's disembodied hand, fingers splayed. Levitating above it were white grains glittering like newborn stars; the magic healing flow salt. Near the bottom of the bag in blue font, "Tarkanian Flow Salt, tea tree scented, soak away your tension". She opened the bag and inhaled its cool mint scent. The grains of salt were a magnesium sulfate coated with a delayed hydration agent that could be mixed into bath water. It was bought and sought after as a joint and muscle inflammation remedy. Her mother created the formula when she retired from military service bringing the Tarkanian family great prosperity and wealth elevating them to official clan status.

The packaged grains were even utilized in the professional medical field to cure muscle injuries or stave off arthritis. All one need do is simply soak in the mixture for a little under an hour and relax as the solution is absorbed into your skin. Once the hydro agent comes into contact with the cartilage of the user's joints it releases tiny air bubbles that gently expand the space between it and the bone to allow increased hydration of the joints. Its only side effect is a slight popping sensation followed by a lessening of muscle and joint tension, like a phantom chiropractor targeting your knots, aches, and inflamed muscles all at once. All this magic in one scoop for a reasonable price.

Krystal cupped her palm and tossed two handfuls into the awaiting warm bath water. She turned the dial that ceased the flow, and once disrobing she regarded herself in the full body mirror adjacent to the bathroom sink. She had a body that was well muscled and hourglass shaped, the shoulders slightly broader than her hips. Her abdomen was flat and toned. A very attractive, very feminine figure with strong undertones that denoted her strength and combat prowess. Each of her arms was adorned with a tattoo, a white chain that encircled each forearm, symbolizing her commitment to the practice of medicine. When she had become a full fledged combat medic her mother had painted the chain links herself, eyes shining with tears and pride. Her hips were marked with the Cerinian crest a white painted spiral with four triangles bordering its edges.

Her blue tail was long, nearly ankle length, it's tip white like a paint brush. It swayed left to right…left to right, moved by neither will nor breeze, like breathing without conscious thought. Self-appraisal done, she lowered herself in the warm water until only her head remained surfaced. After about twenty minutes she heard and felt the first pop. It sounded like a cue stick striking a pool ball. It was her right shoulder. Raising her right arm, she drew it across her chest and felt the elbow follow suit, then her wrist, then the joints in her fingers. The appendage felt light as a cloud completely free of tension.

One by one the rest of stored up tension was discharged.

"Pop pop poppity pop".

Keeping her favorite part as the grand finale, she held onto both ends of the tub while twisting her upper body, until she experienced the cracking sensation of her spinal cartilage, spanning from her neck and shoulders all the way down to her tailbone.. "Damn if that didn't feel good", she thought as she leaned back and sighed contentedly. After soaking and bathing for a little under half an hour, she stood up and dried herself. She then leisurely walked to her closet and retrieved her medical attire, which consisted of a simple gray scrub outfit. Attached to the breast pouch was a purple key card that would grant her access to the medical facility that Alex was tucked away in.

She finished the outfit with a pair of white slip-on shoes that were plain, but durable and comfortable enough for standing for prolonged periods of time. She scrutinized herself in the mirror once more giving her reflection a practice smile and a wave.

"Just a friendly, mundane nurse", she thought.

She nearly made it out the door when her eyes fell on the woven laundry basket next to her door, and the ruined remains of her blue dress; the one she had worn when Alex had attacked her. The once pristine silk was ripped and stained with dirt and blood….. his blood. It compelled her to retrieve the blaster pistol along with her holster stowed away inside the drawer of her night stand. "Just in case", she whispered, making sure to set the weapon to its stun setting. She left her staff on the rack above her bed confident the visit wouldn't warrant its use. She left her room in search of her mother.

While the various rooms that housed the homeowners and guests of the Tarkanian manor were a somber navy palette, the hallways were wood, lovingly lacquered giving them a pleasing shine. Every thirty or so paces down the hall was marked with a glass dome light affixed to the ceiling; the soft illumination gave the wood walls a curious gray faded glow like aged polaroid film. The floor was adorn with thick navy blue carpet, gold trim zigzagging either end of the track.

She continued, her ears perking at what she thought to be the "clink" and "clak" of kitchen instruments, along with the "whoosh" and "thunk" of cabinets opening and closing. She quickened her pace and sure enough there was her mother Yahnnie fussing about in the spacious kitchen. She was in her mid-forties, a strongly built woman, but more slight than Krystal like a track runner. Her hair was the same cropped style as well, its only alteration was a slight curl to the royal blue strands of hair. Today she wore an orange dress with curious yellowed colored curved glyphs stitched into the skirt end of the fabric.

The morning sun that shined through the windows outlined her figure with a yellow bloom, making her look like an emissary of the sun. When she entered a crowded room heads turned both male and female. Her captivating beauty was elevated by her charming easy going demeanor, which could put any introvert at ease with her laugh and thousand-watt smile. She was also an extremely capable warrior, being a former member of the Dark Scepters; elite combatants who guarded the various noble clans of the Cerinian hierarchy. Even retired from service she retained both her obsidian staff and skills, which she kept sharp through an intense training regiment. In front of her were two large bowls, one filled with a scrambled egg veggie mix, the other filled to the brim with steaming mash potatoes; her classic carb and protein combo breakfast.

Krystal felt the warm telepathic brush from her mother as she turned to face her. "So you're off to see the man who fell from the stars", she said, her voice melodramatic. "Nothing too fantastical Mother, just a being who got lost on his way, I'm going to pay a visit to pick his brain and check his vitals", Krystal said as she submitted to a hug and hair ruffle from her mother. She gave Krystal a knowing look. "You're not fooling anyone", she said, tapping her daughter's nose. "You have your Father's eyes and nose for the strange and unusual, so don't play the nonchalant act with me", she lightly chastised. Krystal folded and broke from her mother's embrace. She ceased the facade, now fidgeting in place, her tail lashing the air in excitement.

"Truth be told, I've been stir-crazy waiting to get the chance to learn more about this strange visitor but - we know nothing Mother…..absolutely nothing. It- uh … he is unlike anything I've ever seen", she said fiddling with one of her pointed ears nervously. "Are you worried he's dangerous?, you told me how he attacked you and the others on the beach maybe leave the burden to someone else, you were on leave after all", she said shrugging her shoulders uncertainly.

Krystal pondered this for a moment. The thought had crossed her mind numerous times during the previous three days spent at home. Why not just walk away from this?, she had fulfilled her obligation to her patient. If anything this visit would serve as a final check up before he was sent on his way. The Cerinian government would grant Alex asylum until his home could be found, after which he would be given safe passage off planet, and that would be the end of it. All she had to do was simply pass along the request to Meesha and she would take care of the rest. At the end of this trail of thought, the image of Alex would come to her. She would remember the feel of his body cradled in her arms bloody and weak. His eyes were dark blue with flecks of gold and they gazed at her with curiosity and wonder. She had felt something pass between the eye contact, some brief but tangible connection between them. Even when she had gotten as close as picking up her datalink to message Meesha, that memory persisted; giving her pause.

"No I can't leave this alone I just can't", she heard herself say. "He's a puzzle for sure, but I don't think he wants to hurt anyone….I guess I'm just nervous is all, I want to make a good impression". Yahnnie tapped her on the nose again bringing attention back to her. "You saved his life, he'd be dead on that beach if you hadn't been there", her mother said pointedly. She suddenly snapped her fingers as an idea occurred to her. "He isn't too different from us from what you told me". She set about retrieving two silver lunch boxes hurriedly filling them with the mix of eggs and mash potatoes. "He's got two arms, two legs, a brain, a heart, and more importantly a man's stomach".

She sidestepped, her dress billowing as she patted the two silver boxes that gleamed like sacred offerings. "I bet a nice home cooked meal will put him at ease….build some rapport between you two". "Plus plenty of carbs to get the noggin jogging, it's better brain food than that lame I.V. drip that's mixed with saline". Her nose wrinkled, a "yack" sound escaping her clenched fangs. "His spit must taste like soap", she said. Krystal nodded in agreement, feeling a little dim that she hadn't thought of it herself. "That's smart thinking Mother", she said. Yahnnie's lip curved upward, her signature sideways smirk. "No, not smart…..practical, all mothers are". "Your Father is the one with the brains". She flexed her forearm, strong muscles cultivated from years of time in the dueling ring stood up proudly. "You get your beauty and brawn from me", she laughed. For such a sweet and well-mannered lady, she had a wicked evil laugh.

She then made to stow the food in her pack, when she heard frantic booming footsteps that reverberated through the space like a pair of bowling balls being repeatedly dribbled. "Oh dear", she heard her Mother say.

"KRYSTAL….JUST WAIT RIGHT THERE", a booming male voice thundered. Krystal turned to her Mother, an accusing look flashed across her face. "Did you tell him about it!?", she hissed. "Word got around and well you know how your father gets around things A-L-I-E-N", Yahnnie said apologetically. Krystal then turned in time to see her Father Joecel hurriedly descending the dual staircase that curved inward towards the entrance hall and kitchen of their home. He was moving so fast that it was a wonder he didn't trip and fall. Her father abruptly stopped in front of the couple, pausing to catch his breath and fix the disheveled state of his clothes.

Joecel was a big man, he had the broad shoulders and towering height of an olympian. He was handsome in a rough, hard muscled way, with a dignified and composed demeanor that completely contrasted with his imposing form. His fur was a dark blue gray, like storm clouds. He was a biologist and an avid extraterrestrial enthusiast. The normally mild-mannered and composed academic was in a manic frenzy, his dark trousers rumpled, the buttons on his dress shirt and coat were offset, giving a lopsided quality to his normally neat fashion. For a long moment he tidied his appearance then after taking a few deep breaths he walked. He had a peculiar graceful gait for a man of his size. When he walked it was always with his arms behind his back, head slightly bowed. His shoulders and torso never so much as shifted when he moved and paced about, giving the illusion of him gliding across the floor.

"Extra-ordinary…simply extra-ordinary", he said the adjective like it was two separate words; a habit Krystal and her Mother would often tease him about. "Oh honey, would you like some coffee to start your extra-ordinary day?!", Yahnnie would jest much to his chagrin. "Oh swell now he's gonna want to tag along", Krystal thought with a mix of irritation and amusement. "Is it true….is it really an alien from another world that you saw?", he said excitement replacing his normally flat and formal tone. "Yup he said the A word now I'm really in for it", she thought before saying reluctantly, "Yes Father, it's a unique species that crash landed on our world, I'm going to the medical center to conduct a routine check up".

His reaction was comical, grinning as he began to excitedly stamp his feet, a sound like a hissing tea kettle escaping his clenched teeth. His gaze suddenly fell on the twin silver food containers. "And I see you've made our breakfast to go, thoughtful as always Yahnnie, come along Krystal I'll carry this and we'll meet our new friend", he said, brushing past his wife and Krystal. "Uh-uh no Joecel that second meal is for Krystal's patient", Yahnnie said. She was a trifle smaller than her husband, but the stern look she gave stopped him in his tracks. Still he persisted. "Why don't I make myself a box as well? I can carry it for you Krystal, you can conduct your check up while I take my notes in the farthest corner of the room", he said, a pleading tone creeping into his voice. "Joey you are the furthest thing from conspicuous, what will he think when he sees you all big and fidgety, he'll probably think you're there to dissect him", his wife said. She reached up and grabbed him by his shirt collar pulling him to the dinner table.

"But…..but…..but", he sounded like a clucking chicken. "Allow me to observe from a distance…..I can make myself small, he'll barely know I'm there, please I beg you two, this is my calling", he pleaded. His protest ceased at the sound of Yahnnie banging her fist on their mahogany dining table, the act caused her orange dress to whip upward like a gust of flame. "Your calling is to leave your daughter to her work and to eat dinner with your wife, now park your fanny in the chair", she growled. He relented sitting in the chair dejected like a disappointed child. Her mother slid a plate in front of him hurriedly planting a kiss on his cheek as she made to sit next to him.

That was her Mother, when she got angry it was quick and sudden but after the initial quake she had already forgotten about it. Her parents were quite the match she thought, as the pair ate. A giant of a man with a heart of an explorer, a brain who's thirst for knowledge and wonder could not be sedated. On his shoulder was a woman whose gentle and thoughtful touch was eclipsed by her warrior's fiery spirit. She was tough as shoe leather, and when it came to the well-being of friends and family she was always there to lend a helping hand, or in more strenuous circumstances a closed fist. When they had fresh guests to the Tarkanian home, Krystal would introduce her parents the same way. "These are my parents, one of them is a retired royal guard, and the other is a biologist, guess which one". Not once did they give the correct answer.

Her parents ate, her Mother with gusto, her Father chewing dispassionately still looking glum. "It's fine then…..quite alright", he said to his food then looking at Krystal more earnestly, "I'm sorry dear, I overstepped - you should go on with your duties", he made a polite dismissive wave with his hand, trying but failing to hide his disappointment for her sake. She made to leave but reversed at the last second. She didn't want to leave him out of the loop, frankly his expertise might prove useful.

"Dad", she began. "No….no…it's quite alright, your Mother is correct, cool and levelheads are needed and I'd just get in the way of-". She put a hand on one of his massive shoulders, her voice confiding. "Dad you know, we've been having a difficult time studying his genetic makeup and we could really use someone with a keen eye on a microscope". He simply looked at her mouth slightly agape. "If you make room in your study I can bring back blood and tissues samples for you to examine". His face brightened at the prospect. It was her Mother that gave the final push. "Joey honey, why don't you write this stranger a nice letter asking him to come visit". "When he learns you're the Father of the woman who saved him I'm sure he'll be delighted to accept", her Mother said encouragingly. Joecel looked at them both, then nodded his head slowly; he was pleased but making an effort to conceal his excitement.

"Why….that sounds very….agreeable, I was such a hasty clown before", he said, shaking his head in self-deprecation. He looked at her with child-like glee. "Krystal, would you humor me by giving me a minute to write him a letter?", he retrieved his notebook from the inside of his coat, with his other hand he set his utensil aside pulling an ornate pen from his breast pouch. "Of course I will", she replied. His pen had begun to traverse paper then stop. "What was his name again?", her Father asked, one eyebrow raised inquisitively. "His name is Alex", she replied. The big man turned back to his paper saying under his breath, "Alex…..hmmmmm extra-ordinary ... .alright then", his writing hand began to move rapidly. To his credit, his hand remained steady as he wrote, the pen and paper making a frantic scratching sound, like a scurrying rodent.

After the thirty or so seconds it took her Father to finish writing, he hurriedly shooed her out the door. Before making her way down the stone steps of her home she inhaled the scent of morning dew and gazed at the rising sun. Then she trotted down the steps.

No turning back now.