Through the Rift 3 (Patreon)

Happy Xmas, everyone! I felt like writing another scene, so here ya go.

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After my piss break, I couldn’t get Simba to discuss pulling the shrapnel from my arm. I tried several times, but he busied himself making food, eventually filling two plates. He pulled his chair over to sit beside the bed, handed me one, and balanced his own plate on his lap.

The meal was simple: a very rare chunk of meat large enough to feed a linebacker and a roll the size of my fist. Neither plate included any cutlery. I tried to eat, but couldn’t manage much of this huge meal, just a few bites of each. The meat was fatty, gamey, and tough. It wasn’t like anything I’d had before, but I imagined that wild boar might taste similar.

I was expecting the bread to be crusty and dense, but it turned out to be quite the opposite. The flavor was a bit salty, but the bread itself was very light and squishy. It had the texture of cake, without any of the sweetness.

At this point, I was starting to feel feverish from the inevitable infection, so I just closed my eyes and waited for Simba to finish his lunch. He eventually took my plate away once his was clean.

I must have slept a little, because I woke to Simba running back into the house growling something urgent-sounding. I tried getting up, but I was feeling even weaker than I had this morning, so I just lifted my head. I watched as Simba ran out and back in several times. I heard a lot of commotion outside, shouting, commotion, vehicle noises. Simba returned and tried relating what had happened, but he didn’t bother signing anything, so all I got was growls. Had his neighbors come by to see the space man? I had no idea.

Eventually, Simba had a shouting match while standing at his doorway, but when I spotted a second lion in a plastic containment suit, that’s when I pieced it all together. Simba’s government had seen our spaceship go down, and it had only taken them one extra day to figure out where we’d crashed. The containment suit was a logical step. They’d probably quarantine Simba in here with me to make sure I wasn’t carrying anything dangerous and contagious, but what I couldn’t fathom was why the government had modern technology and Simba didn’t.

Were we out in the boonies where there was no electricity? Was Simba a survivalist who was intentionally living off the grid? Or a hermit, perhaps?

Regardless, I knew that Simba wasn’t destined to win whatever argument he was having. Governments will do what governments will do, and when you drag an alien home like a puppy, they aren’t liable to let you keep him.

While Simba argued with the lion in the plastic suit, I noticed that he gestured to his right elbow a couple times. Good! He had to be describing my injury, and getting help from guys in plastic suits was my best chance of surviving with both hands.

Eventually bubble-boy left, and Simba explained what was going on. I couldn’t understand a word, but I could imagine. Unless aliens crash land on this planet with some frequency, they’d probably constructed a perimeter of razor wire around the house to prevent my escape while nervous teens pointed dozens of rifles our way. They needn’t have bothered. I wasn’t going anywhere.

About an hour later, they did eventually send a doctor in—of sorts. I had been expecting a lion in another plastic suit, but instead, they sent me a robot. As robots went, this one was pretty disappointing. Instead of getting C-3PO or maybe the android from Aliens, I got something more akin to a telepresence robot.

The robot was a big and boxy thing—as tall as a St. Bernard and maybe a little wider. It had rubber treads on the bottom and many drawers on the sides that I hoped were stocked with medicines and supplies. For a head, it had a video screen on an articulated neck. A cartoony lion face shone from the screen, and I could easily imagine that helping to keep a patient calm when a big scary robot came to treat the injured instead of a flesh and blood person.

There was one thing about it that made me nervous though. For hands, the robot only had two crude claws, one folded and dormant on each side. I had yet to see them in action, but they looked clumsy at best. I didn’t want to see either of them try to hold a scalpel!

The robot growled a greeting to Simba who gestured my way with one hand, then the robot turned and approached my bedside. The cartoon face disappeared and a video feed from someone’s office replaced it. Though empty initially, eventually a lion came in and had a seat, so his head filled the majority of the display. He growled at me, but I couldn’t decipher what he was saying any more than I could understand the sounds that Simba made.

I opened my mouth to explain that I couldn’t understand, but before I could say a word, I heard something that gave my heart a lift … words! I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but all the sounds were familiar, the cadence seemed similar to English, whatever I was hearing sounded like something that I could probably learn.

I looked around to find who had spoken. I didn’t see anyone at first, but eventually, I looked down to find two other creatures that had entered with the robot. They were … rats? Or mice, perhaps? Like Simba, they stood like men, but looked like animals—both of them standing about one foot tall.

“Hello! Hello?” I called at them, ignoring the lion-doctor and rolling to the edge of my cot so they could see me. “I’m Martin.” I tapped my chest twice and repeated my name until I had their attention.

The two shared a look before turning their gazes back to me. The one on the left said, “Martin,” and I thought I would die right there and then.

“Yes! Yes!” I shouted, vigorously nodding my head. “Martin!”

The one on the left tapped her chest twice, like I had done. “Noa,” she said.

“Noa,” I repeated back, and she nodded.

“Ayla,” said the second, and she nodded immediately when I repeated it back.

Without thinking, I held out my left hand to greet them. They shared one more look and then took turns touching my hand. I didn’t bother trying to shake. My hand was so much larger than either of theirs, I didn’t want to hurt them.

As I flopped back into my cot, the two scampered up the robot and climbed to my bedside. The telepresence doctor spoke with the mice, instructing them what to do, I guessed. The robot used its arms to open drawers and hand them items, and delicate, dexterous little mouse hands began undoing the bandages wrapped around my elbow. For the first time since the wreck, I started to feel like things were going to be okay.

I should note, I suppose, that though I thought of the mice as female, I didn’t exactly pick them up and check their undercarriage to verify their gender. I didn’t see the sort of external genitalia that I associated with guys, so I just assumed they were girls.

Then again, I didn’t exactly see any external waterworks inside Simba’s bushy pubes either, but he had a mane, and that was good enough for me. Everyone knew that lions are the ones with manes, and lionesses had none.

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Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1R_LoCWZQpp7YbrSioXmQNMtkCUtMwl1MqvArddXgrUI/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?