Then fear and caution overcame her amazement. She didn’t want to be there when the aliens came out of their trance. She picked up her bags and stick and fled into the forest.
The aliens dropped down out of the trees in front of her a couple of hours later. Juna backed away and stood ready to defend herself with her staff. She wasn’t going to let them keep her from going back to base camp. The aliens moved back also, flushing green and blue. One of them pulled some fruit from its bag, and offered it to her. Juna looked at it for a long moment, her stomach tight with hunger. She took it. She had nothing else to eat, and she was too familiar with starvation to refuse.
When Juna finished the fruit, the aliens picked up their bags and motioned to her to follow them. Juna shook her head, refusing to get up. The lizard attack had shaken her confidence, but she wasn’t going to follow these aliens until she knew what they wanted with her.
The aliens conferred with each other, washes of pattern and color appearing and disappearing on their bodies. They seemed uncertain about what to do next.
Juna picked up a twig, and beckoned to the aliens. Brushing aside the leaf litter, she began to draw in the red dirt. The aliens watched curiously, ears wide, as she drew a stick figure representing herself, and another figure representing an alien.
Several hours later, after a number of drawings and much gesturing back and forth, they reached a tentative agreement. Juna wasn’t sure how much of what she was trying to explain they understood. As best as she could tell, they knew she was trying to get to her people. The aliens recognized the peninsula where the base was located. They would guide her back to base camp, but they had something they needed to do back in their village first.
Juna thought it over. By now, she was fairly sure that these were the same aliens who had found her the first time. If so, they had saved her life again. These two days alone in the forest had made her realize how slim her chances were, traveling alone. A guide back to the base would greatly increase the likelihood of getting there alive. Besides, it would be best if she arrived at camp with some aliens. Despite her exhaustion and hunger, Juna smiled. The A-C specialists would be halfway to hyperspace when they found out they had a real sentient species to study.
Juna got up and, through pantomime, indicated she would follow them back to their village. When they tried to get her to travel through the canopy, Juna refused. It was a tense moment, but the aliens agreed to walk. The knot in her shoulders eased. Winning this tiny concession gave her a sense of control. Perhaps everything would work out after all.
Toward evening, the aliens stopped and built a temporary nest of branches and leaves in the crotch of a tree. Juna helped one of them gather fruit. The other one vanished into the jungle and returned with several small birds dangling around its neck on a cord.
With a glance at the alien for permission, Juna picked up one of the birds. It was small and brown, perhaps twenty centimeters long from beak to tail. There was a showy patch of green iridescence at its throat.
Juna lifted a wing with a forefinger, exposing a brilliant red underwing with a dark eyespot. It must be spectacular when courting, she thought. It wasn’t a species she recognized, but then they had only catalogued a tiny fraction of the species on this planet.
The alien touched her on the shoulder, and she handed it the bird. She felt a pang of regret at not being able to catalogue the bird before it became dinner.
It was growing dark. Her guide fished out a tightly woven basket. Inside was a chunk of wood covered with glow fungus. The alien hung the glowing wood on an overhanging branch. It cast a surprisingly bright light over the nest. The aliens skinned the birds, handing three to Juna. She ate one of the scrawny, raw birds, and then filled up on fruit.
After dinner, one of the aliens grasped Juna’s arm and tried to link with her.
“No!” Juna shouted, backing away and scooping up her bag. She would jump out of the tree and kill herself before she would let them violate her again. The aliens stopped. Glowing blue and green patterns washed across their skin as they beckoned her back into the nest. Juna shook her head. She held her arms out, spurs up, then shook her head, tucking her arms against her sides and flushing bright orange. She repeated the gesture several times. At last the aliens understood. They tucked their arms against their sides also, and huddled on the far side of the nest, ears fanned expectantly.
Cautiously, Juna climbed into the nest. Blue and green paisley patterns moved slowly across the aliens’ bodies as she did so. One of them reached out toward her. She flinched from its touch, but the alien only brushed her shoulder with its knuckles. Juna relaxed a little after that, but kept her arms tucked tightly against her sides, and slept curled in a tight, protective ball, terrified that they would try something while she slept.
A driving tropical rainstorm woke Juna shortly before dawn. It was a long, sodden miserable hike back to the village. It rained hard most of the day. The footing was treacherous. She slipped and fell several times. In the middle of the afternoon, the rain stopped suddenly, as though it had been cut off by a switch.
They reached the village about an hour later, and went directly to the sick alien’s room. The sick one seemed pleased to see them. It reached out to link with her. Juna pulled away, shaking her head. One of the aliens who had brought her back intervened. A long discussion followed. Juna watched, too tired to try to comprehend what was being said. She wanted a hot meal, a bath, and a soft, comfortable bed, in no particular order.
At last the discussion was over. Another cold meal of fruit, honey, greens, and raw meat was served. Juna looked at the cold, raw food, longing for a hot plate of couscous, or a big bowl of her father’s pea soup. Still it was better than tiny bird corpses, and it beat starving. She ate, poured a couple of gourds of tepid water over herself, and burrowed into the warm, rotting mass of leaves that was her bed. She fell asleep immediately.
The next few days were agonizing. Juna endured an endless round of poking and prodding by curious aliens. They fingered her ears and manipulated her hands, holding them palm to palm against their slender four-fingered hands. Patterns flickered rapidly across their skins as they discussed her.
All of them attempted to link with her. Juna’s guide stopped them, but several times Juna had to fend off the insistent aliens herself. The first day of this was interesting, the second day tedious. By the third day, Juna’s patience had reached the breaking point. When an alien tried to examine her, she brushed its hands away, gently but firmly. The aliens persisted. At last, unable to take any more, Juna huddled against the wall, her hands over her ears and her head between her knees. Her skin burned bright orange, and she felt the strange lines of goose bumps rising along her back.
“Leave me alone, leave me alone!” she moaned, tears welling behind her eyelids. It reminded her of her first visit back to her mother’s people, how the village children had poked and prodded at her in her foreign clothes, only this time she didn’t have any relatives to shoo away the curious. She was more alone than she had ever been before.
A gentle hand brushed her shoulder. She brushed it away. When it rested on her shoulder again, Juna looked up angrily, ready to fend off another curious alien. It was her guide. She looked around. The other aliens, except for the sick one, had all left. Her guide led her to a small storeroom near the bottom of the tree. In the room was a pile of empty gourds lying with their lids askew, stacks of dried seaweed, a bundle of hollow reeds, coils of rope, neatly folded nets, empty baskets, and a big mound of dry grass. A beetle scuttled out over her feet as she stepped inside. The alien hung a mat over the door and left her alone.