Expendable - James Alan Gardner [49]
She ignored my offer. “Why is the other Explorer so stupid?”
“What?”
“He just lies there. He doesn’t talk. Does he think he is smarter than me? Does he think I’m dirty?”
I had forgotten about Chee. His body lay a short distance up the beach, his tightsuit glistening in the moonlight.
“The other Explorer is dead,” I answered softly. “He was very old, and he just—”
“He is not dead!” The woman was suddenly on her feet, glass fists clenched in fury. “Do you think you are sacred? Do you think you are holy? Fucking Explorers are not such things as can die!”
And she stormed over to Chee’s corpse and kicked it hard in the side.
Sad
My kung fu master would say the kick showed incorrect foot formation—if I kicked a tightsuit like that, I’d have broken my toe. The glass woman showed no sign of injury; and when she pulled her foot away. I saw a shadowy dent in the suit’s fabric, as if someone had smashed it with a sledgehammer. The force of the kick had been enough to scuff the body back several centimeters over the sand.
“Are you asleep?” the woman shouted at Chee. “Wake up! Wake up!”
She kicked him again.
I stepped forward to stop her, then held myself back. She couldn’t hurt Chee now; and if there was an afterlife, the admiral would be amused to watch a beautiful nude alien try to wake up his corpse.
After three more kicks that didn’t quite breach the suit, the woman dropped to her knees right on the admiral’s chest and screamed in his face, “Wake up! Wake up!” She shook his shoulders, then clapped her hands on both sides of the helmet with a thud.
Panting and puzzled, she turned back to me. “He cannot hear me inside of his shell.”
“He can’t hear you,” I agreed, “but it’s not because of the suit.”
“Do not say he is dead!” She buffeted the helmet with more smacks of her hand.
“Wait,” I said at last. “Wait.”
Kneeling by Chee’s head, I fumbled with the clasps on his helmet. My fingers were clumsy after the dunk in cold water; wearing clammy wet underwear didn’t help my condition either. I’d have to build a fire soon, before hypothermia set in.
The glass woman’s face was close to mine as I removed Chee’s helmet—I could feel her body heat on my skin. As soon as the helmet was off, she reached down and pinched his cheek. When she got no response, she shook him by the chin, then pulled on his ear. I placed my hand over hers and pulled her gently away from the corpse.
“He is dead,” I told her. “Really.”
I laid the back of my hand against the admiral’s forehead. He was beginning to cool.
Hesitantly, the glass woman peeled open Chee’s eyelid. The pupil did not react. She suddenly snatched back her hand and pressed it to her chest, as if she could hardly breathe.
“He is truly dead?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Explorers can die?”
“They’re famous for it,” I said.
She stared at me; her expression was so intense, I came close to flinching. “You can die?” she asked at last.
“As far as I know. It’s not something I want to test anytime soon.”
The woman peered at my face a moment longer, as if searching for some sign I was lying; then she turned away, her troubled gaze moving toward the lake’s dark water. After a moment, she said, “Now I feel very sad.”
“I feel sad too.” My hand still lay on Chee’s forehead.
Oar
I told her, “Before my friend died, he asked me to put his body into the lake.”
“Yes,” the woman agreed. “We will hide him in the lake. We will use rocks to make him heavy so he will go to the very bottom; and he will be safe forever and ever.”
I wondered what was going through her mind: why she used the phrase “hide him in the lake,” what she meant by “safe,” why the ability to the meant so much to her. Possibilities leapt to mind, but I shoved them away; Explorers shouldn’t jump to conclusions.
We both began collecting rocks—mostly just pebbles, since neither the beach nor bluffs offered stones of any great size. I stuffed what I gathered into Chee’s belt pouches, but the woman deposited hers directly inside his suit. She placed them there one at a time, working with care and delicacy. Once, I