Pip's Ophidian Book 1: Beatlebug & The Provider

Chapter 4: Me Too

The Ophidian let out another hiss. Pip looked up at it through blood, tears, and vomit. It was making a strange gesture at what appeared to be a mirror on its wrist, and abruptly, doors he hadn't realized were present swished open behind him and two more joined the first.

One–larger than the others with a red crest which rose into a violent halo as it saw him–hissed loudly and immediately raised a gun, which had already been drawn before even entering the room. Pip shut his eyes. Opened them. Shut them again.

More hissing, and when he looked again a smaller Ophidian with a yellow crest was holding hands with the first Ophidian, Pip's travel partner with the orange crest. They seemed to kiss, briefly, or maybe, he thought insanely, do nosies. They didn't have noses like he understood them, but they definitely breathed the same air for a moment, foreheads tipped together. Then the yellow one was out the door faster than he could see it go, and he was alone with two Ophidians, and The Provider had left him.

He was, as he had never been before, most truly alone.

Ma was one of the few living humans to ever set foot on Heven, and there had been no habitable planet before that, not since Earth, generations ago. He had spent his entire life aboard The Provider. Had not even reached the point in his military career where he was sent out on Daggers to patrol on his own. The gravity here was too light. The air here tasted strange, felt strange, felt like the heavy moss of the greenhouse, of Lil's Sustainability Garden, and he'd never be there again, never see her again, because surely his story must end here.

The door swished open. He didn't bother looking up. Not until he heard it.

"What the fuck?"

His head shot upwards, and there she was. A human. She'd been led in by the Yellow one, who quickly went to the Red and flicked out a tablet, seeming to scan it. The Red waved the Yellow off, though, sharp eyes staring daggers at Pip.

The human gaped at him.

She was unlike any human he had ever seen, but was human none-the-less. She loomed over him, tall and gangly like the Spacers The Provider traded with now and then, who lumbered around like feral animals and weren't allowed beyond the cargo bay. She was paler than Father, Aviva, and their kids. Paler even than the Spacers. And she was covered in strange reddish brown spots, totally washed over with them like someone had dumped cinnamon on her, hair the same color as the spots in a messy knot atop her head. But she was human.

"What–" he started, and then didn't know how to continue.

She stared at him as if she couldn't quite believe he was there, too, and then, to his utter shock, dove forward, grabbed the orange-crested Ophidian, and did the nosies thing. It totally let her do it. She shut her eyes while she did it, brow furrowed, and the other two Ophidians exchanged glances but didn't move like this was weird, and it was bizarre that Pip felt social pressure in this situation but he did, so he remained silent.

The human let out a huff. "Fine!" she shouted. Orange Ophidian's crest rose and then fell.

She turned to Pip, then, eyes hard and narrowed. "Stop it," she snapped.

He blinked. "Stop what?" he asked. Bleeding?

Orange Ophidian let out a strange noise, and he turned to look, but it wasn't looking at him anymore. It had opened the bio-chamber and revealed... an egg.

A smooth, oblong, greenish-teal thing with brown spots almost like the girl's. It held the egg to its forehead like it was doing the thing again, and then passed it to the Yellow crested one, who immediately placed it in a cloth pouch around its shoulders and blipped out of there, fast as it had come.

"That," the girl said. "Feeling so much."

Pip stared at her. He heard a strange sound, and then, he was laughing. He was laughing. The sound was him. He'd lost it.

At the thought, his laugh turned to a sob. He covered his face, peering through his fingers at all of them. It hurt, for some reason, and the girl was abruptly there, peeling his hand back, which he saw was red with blood. Oh right. His nose.

"Let me just," she said, and then reached up and with a shock of very terrible pain he merely whimpered at, wrenched his nose back into place. She grimaced, wiping her hand on brown coveralls. "Just... just don't touch it." she said. She was wearing a tiny gold cross necklace on her wrist, wound around like a bracelet. He shut his eyes.

"This is a dream," he said. It came out like, "Dis is a dweam."

He started laughing again, laughing and crying, and he pinched his arm, hard. Nothing. That was stupid, though. He was already in pain, and very much not waking up.

"It's not a dream," she snapped. Her eyes softened slightly though, and she let out a huff. "How old are you? Like, twelve?"

Pip stared at her, somehow still able to be a little floored through all this insanity. He was very used to the age-guessing-game going the other direction. "I'm seventeen," he said slowly. (I'mb sebenteam) Then, because he had seen it in a suspense drama televid, added, "My name is Pip. I have a mother, siblings, I–"

She rolled her eyes, "Ok! Ok, got it, jeez. The gravity on y'alls ship is so heavy, you're all so very short, pardon, ok. Seventeen. Ok. He's my age, Mel! A kid. Ok, wait, wrong language." She reached out a hand to Orange crest and swatted, then gestured, silently, and then Orange-crest turned back to him. It looked down at him, and the crest twitched, and Pip was too tired and petrified to even hyperventilate.

Until it reached out a claw.

He reared backwards, banging his head on the desk. Orange-crest flinched, as if it had been hurt.

"You gotta stop with the big feelings," the human girl snapped.

"Ok," he said, as if that'd help, "Ok, ok, ok." He was flapping his hands. He didn't care.

"Let him touch you," She said. Him. Ok. Orange-crest was apparently a boy's name. Whatever. "It's in the mind, how they communicate. It's like... like their language. And don't get all big feelings at him, ok! Mel's a sweetie."

A sweetie. A sweetie Ophidian named Mel, who was a boy. Sure. Ok.

Pip shut his eyes. He didn't move forward, but he didn't move away either. He felt more than heard 'Mel' creep towards him, opening his eyes only when a single claw touched his bare wrist.

Warmth.

A sudden, painfully familiar tangle of it, seeming to plant itself into his arm through the claws. He gasped, and the Ophidian's eyes widened, the crest quivering. In his bones he felt surprise echoed back, too.

It dropped to its knees before him, legs bending inhumanly, and he found he was no longer afraid.

As if the words had been in Pip's head the whole time and the Ophidian was just dusting off the sand, he heard, I hear you're a child. Me, too. I'm a child too. I know you're scared. Me, too. I'm scared too.

I regret having given us this feeling, love.

Sleep now. Before you hurt yourself further.

There was no other way. It was time to go to sleep, now, before he hurt himself further. The human girl laughed, shrill and shocked, but he didn't care. He fell forward into the warm claws, which opened for him and a hand came to his head and tangled in his hair, and he realized it was shaking. He realized he felt something like joy, grief, love, fear and grief, tenfold, and none of it was his. But he also realized he was safe. He knew it without knowing why, he knew it without having to know it for sure. The feeling of this mind was like the best feather bed he'd ever laid upon, and he wanted to cry, suddenly. Wanted to weep with relief. But he didn't.

He did as he was told, instead. He fell asleep, before he could hurt himself further.

Distantly, as he sank into slumber, he felt it: the arms leaving him, shaking. The words pressed into his brain from far off now, not directed towards him, but still, he 'heard' them:

Take him... take him to the nest. Make sure he's warm. I... make sure he's safe.