SciFi and Fantasy Stories: What if I'm a monster?

Zev took Iena’s hand to help her over the large boulder. He smiled when she tripped and stumbled against his chest and into his arms.

“Sorry,” she hurried as she flushed in embarrassment.

“Not a problem.” He let his hands linger longer than necessary on her shoulders after he’d steadied her, but she didn’t seem to mind.

By that time, the others were a fair distance ahead—only sections of conversations wafted back to the two stragglers. It was nice in a way.

When he turned from her to stare at the sunset, Iena cleared her throat and approached. If anyone would know, he would. “Zev…” she started.

“Hmmm?” His hands remained in his pocket and his eyes trained on the wide expanse before him, but his focus settled on the woman at his back. For the first time in years he felt whole—he felt human.

“You know a lot about the area… What was it called—before the World Death?”

Zev glanced over his shoulder and smiled. He pointed to a distant mountain and the lake settled at its feet. “That’s Mount Bowen and Lake Bowen.”

“Mount Bone?” she repeated.

“No,” he grinned and repeated the name, not changing the way he said it. “It’s spelled b-o-w-e-n. Subtle, but it’s all about correct context.”

“I see,” she giggled. There was little difference in the pronunciation regardless of whether one knew how to spell it or not. However, Zev saw a difference, and so she would let him.

“This whole region used to be called the Never Summer Mountain Range. I stumbled across old images of what it was like.” The man closed his eyes, seeing the scene before him as it should have appeared. Some differences were subtle, others were major. There were many animals that would never return, and he’d seen pictures of carpets of vibrant flowers that he’d never beheld. He shook his head. “It’s improved so much in the past couple hundred years, but Iena, we’re not even close. We’ll never be close again.”

The note of grief that was becoming so familiar in his voice tugged at Iena’s heart. She could sense the personal loss that filled him because the world would never be the same. “You know…” She stepped forward and rested her hand near his elbow. “Perhaps when we say that, we should be thinking how we will never let it fall to that level of destruction again.”

Zev opened his eyes and turned to look at her. A small smile danced on his lips and he chuckled. “I never thought about it like that.” His chuckle progressed to a warm laughter. “I’ve never met someone like you before.”

Iena flushed and shrugged her shoulders as she turned back to the red sunset. “You’ve just never encountered Martians before.”

The earthling released a wry snicker. “Oh, I’ve met enough—and I was sure I never wanted to again, till I met you.”

“Well thank you, earth-man,” she laughed. “Flattered.”

“As you should be.”

Iena smiled and turned back to the brilliant orange and red sky. “I don’t understand how anyone could poach here—it feels holy.”

Zev grinned, amazed she felt the same about his home. “Most do it only because their families need to eat, and if you can make 10,000 hits on a single fur, I can see why they do. The ones I can’t stand are the ones who do it for the sport.” He sneered at the thought. “They have no idea what they’re doing.”

“But that’s why you’re here,” Iena smiled. “You’re here to keep them from getting away with it.”

The man grinned and nodded. He turned back the way they’d come to walk her home. The others would be doubling back soon as well. “True… I have something I want to show you tomorrow. Feel up to it?”

“Am I human?”

“I’ll stop by around ten then.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“Well, don’t you look four shades of captivating,” Zev laughed as she rushed out onto the porch.

Iena grinned in return as she looked down on the ancient styles and material. “I figured if everyone around here dressed like this, I could too. Makes enough sense,” she continued. “I’ve already ruined three outfits from home.” The word ‘home’ felt funny on her tongue as she said it. Somehow, the dusty red planet didn’t feel like home anymore.

“These should last longer,” Zev commented with a smile. “Besides, they suit you.”

Iena flushed at the compliment and shook her head as she adjusted the bottom article—jean shorts the woman at the store had called them. “I’m ready. Where’re we off to?”

Zev nodded his head away from the cabin and shoved his hands into his pocket. “This way.”

“You’re not going to tell me?” she inquired as she darted to catch up with him.

“Not till we get there.”

“That doesn’t seem nice,” she teased.

“Who said I was nice?” he challenged.

Iena grinned and rolled her eyes at him. “Actions speak louder than words—you told me you were nice.”

“Huh,” he laughed. “Well, there I go, tell’n lies again.”

“You know that’s…”

Zev cut her off with a quick hiss and a slicing hand movement. He narrowed his eyes as he listened for the sound again. Iena furrowed her brow, surprised by his sudden action and the tension he exuded. She held her breath, hoping there was nothing wrong.

“Go over there,” he instructed, pointing to the dense bushes that lined the pathway. “Hide.”

Iena swallowed her fear and obeyed.

Zev stared ahead, tense as the noise drew closer. He ground his teeth and frowned. Why now?

His suspicions proved accurate when just a minute later, an oblivious poacher ambled around the bend in the path. The man stopped and stared at Zev in mute surprise.

“What business brings you here, friend?” Zev grated, glaring at the man who would ruin his home if left to his own affairs.

“Sight seeing,” the stranger answered, resting his long blaster over his shoulder.

“And that requires a weapon?”

The man offered a belligerent smile and a small nod. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, friend,” he started, “there are dangerous animals that roam these forests. One must be able to defend himself.”

“And I suppose the skinner at your hip is a fashion statement.”

The man glanced down and then back up at Zev. “I suppose that gave me away,” he chuckled—low and malicious.

“No,” Zev snarled. “Your stench gave you away. You reek of death and ignorance.”

The man laughed. “That’s what I hate about earth these days,” he sighed, “not a civilized human to be found.”

“I am taking your weapon,” Zev informed him, fed up with the pointless banter. He knew a poacher when he saw one; he didn’t need a confession. “And then I’m taking you and your companions to the authorities.”

“I’d like to see you try,” the man spat, lifting his weapon to ready it. It buzzed as the blast charged up.

Zev rushed forward—faster than the man had anticipated. The poacher had to release the blast before the charge was complete. Zev ducked right, taking the semi-benign blast in the left shoulder. His hand clamped down on the exhaust port, crushing the metal, which rendered the weapon useless.

“Too slow,” he growled as he jerked the ruined device from the moron’s hands

“How…?” The man’s eyes bugged as he beheld the mangled object—guaranteed to withstand any force.

Zev scowled as he swung the death-stick up to slam it against the interloper’s jaw. “Still too slow,” he snapped, standing over the fallen man. Pain began to radiate out from the wound in his shoulder. He ground his teeth, fighting the weakness that followed.

The stranger stared up at him, the proper amount of fear filling his eyes. He seemed to realize that this individual could take him to the authorities—and ruin his life. The man scrambled to his feet and turned in a dead-out run, back the way he’d come.

Zev watched him go, struggling for breath. He knew he should follow and contain the man before he reached his companions. It was much more difficult to take a group than one individual at a time. However, the blast, though relatively harmless under normal circumstances, had sucked the energy he needed to keep focused on his sun protection.

He knew he had another option—one that would protect him from both the sun and the wound. Zev shook his head and ground his teeth, as he dropped to his knees. He pushed towards the shade with the little energy that remained. He couldn’t let her see that; he’d die first. He groaned as the heat from the sun seemed to intensify on his bare arms and face. His skin tightened, and he felt it begin to rip.

Iena watched, horror filling her gut. What happened? She knew that blast hadn’t been enough to take anyone down, much less a man with the strength to crush the same metal used for starship hulls. He’d told her to hide, and she knew that poachers never traveled alone…

“Zev!” Iena cried as she dropped beside him after darting from her hiding place. The small lesions on his face and arms terrified her as did his pathetic attempt to crawl.

“Iena…” The man collapsed, losing the strength required even to writhe.

“What’s wrong?” She pushed him to his back and rested her hand on the side of his head.

He clamped his eyes against the bright light that blinded and tortured him. “The sun…” he gasped, hope and determination draining from his heart. It was already too late. “The sun…”

Iena had no idea what he could mean by his mindless repetition of the words, but she could see his suffering as well as she knew of her own. It didn’t matter what he meant—she was going to find a way to help him.

“It’s okay,” she promised, reaching out to grip his bloody hand and arm. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of here.”

Iena fought to control her gag reflex when a patch of the blistered skin on his fore-arm ripped away under the pressure of her hand. At least he didn’t scream; if he’d even felt it.

“Come on,” she encouraged as she stationed herself under his arm and wrapped her own around his waist. She gripped his slick wrist, ignoring the disgusting sensation beneath her fingers. “We’re going to walk.”

Zev’s pain management system kicked in, discontinuing the communication between his brain and most of his nerves. It was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other as the smaller woman struggled to drag him along with her. He wanted to answer her—to tell her to run to safety—but the most that came from his mouth was a guttural groan that sounded more like a growl than anything.

Why didn’t she save herself? Why did she endanger her own life to help him—who was a walking dead man already? In this situation, there was little she could do; anyone with any sense could see that. He was beyond any help.

“There’ll be more…” he forced when he’d gathered his wits enough to command his mouth. “Run…”

“Shut-up!” she snarled, gripping his waist tighter. “Just walk, and we’ll talk later.”

The words on his ears surprised him so much that his lips turned up in an involuntary smile. She was extraordinary.

At almost the same moment that the two reached the mouth of a small cave, Iena tripped, and they both tumbled into the darkness beyond. Iena grunted as she attempted to wriggle out from beneath the man who neither moved nor made a sound.

“Zev!” She rolled him to his back and shook his limp shoulders. “Zev…” She fought the panic gripping her throat by noting he was still breathing. She shoved her fingers against his neck to search for a pulse.

It was too much. When the rigid skin tore, reminiscent of ancient fabric taken by dry rot, Iena lost her battle. At least she was able to dart from the cave before she expelled the bile that refused to remain in her stomach.

The woman crawled back into the cave on shaking arms and legs. How was she supposed to do anything for him if she couldn’t even touch him without causing more damage? Iena stared, feeling daft and helpless—angered and frightened by the last. What in the eight planets was going on?

“What am I supposed to do?” she sobbed as she touched his feather-soft hair. “How do I help you?”

A low snort behind drew her attention. Iena’s mouth dropped open as her eyes flew open in terror. Of all the things she’d hoped to see on her trip to the ancient home of all humanity, a living wolf hadn’t even made the list.

“No!” she howled, clutching at the first thing her hand fell on. “Go away!”

The wolf watched the rock fly wide and far distant of where it stood. Amber eyes turned back to the woman but the creature didn’t move. A low woof shook the animal’s body once.

Iena ground her teeth together as she grabbed at a large stick. Wielding it like a club, she jumped to her feet. “You won’t touch him!” she screamed swinging the object back and forth, praying she might frighten the beast. “Get away!”

“Easy!” A voice in the distanced called out. “The wolf’s with me.”

Iena gasped as she recognized Boltav’s voice. “Bolt!” she cried out to Zev’s best friend. While normal circumstances would not have allowed her to forego her fear so readily, Zev needed help she couldn’t give. If Boltav told her it was okay, she would believe him. “Zev needs help!”

“Good girl.” Boltav patted the beast’s head as he rushed past. Without a pause to even look at Iena, he dropped to his friend’s side and began his inspections.

Boltav sucked in his breath, hedging his fear and panic at seeing his best friend in such a devastated state. Right now Zev didn’t need Boltav, he needed Dr. Werka. Boltav’s panic could wait until Zev was in a more stable condition.

“What happened?” he asked after his initial inspection indicated that Zev was at least alive and might continue to be so for a moment or two more.

“I’m not sure,” Iena hurried. “He beat off a poacher and then collapsed. It didn’t look like he’d been hurt that much… When I touched him, his skin broke and started coming off…” She shivered in the telling.

Boltav cursed under his breath. Why did Zev insist on doing things that they all knew was beyond his abilities?

“Is he going to be okay?” Iena whispered.

“I don’t know,” Boltav admitted. “I’m going to try and make sure he is.” He turned to face the woman that he needed to get out of there. As long as she was present, there wasn’t much he could do for Zev. His friend obviously didn’t want her to know, or the man wouldn’t be in his current state.

“Do me a favor?” he asked.

“Anything.” Her brow furrowed as her heart pounded in her throat.

“Follow the wolf. She’ll take you to Lyne. Tell him to meet me at the Wire Over-Bridge. Can you do that?”

Iena swallowed as her eyes dropped closed. She could follow a creature that had the power to kill her in seconds. Boltav wouldn’t send her on an errand she couldn’t do—he wouldn’t endanger her. “I’ll go.”

“Thank you.” He looked past her to the wolf. “Nollet,” he called to her, which made the wolf’s ears perk forward. “Go find Lyne.”

Boltav watched as the woman’s back disappeared into the thick forest. He spun back to his patient and dug for the small vial he always kept in his inner pocket. “Alright brainless, if you’re going to act like an idiot, I’m not going to play nice,” he growled as he shook the injection in preparation. When Zev woke up, he would not be happy and would have one monster-headache—but hopefully, this would allow him to do so.

“Lyne!” Iena shrieked as she approached the great elevated house. “Lyne!” When she and the wolf entered the clearing, she lost her footing and only just caught herself before her face slammed into the compact earth.

“Stars and hills alive!” Lyne exclaimed as he left his son and Teldre to rush to her side. “What’s wrong?” He reached out to steady the Martian and help her back to her feet.

“Zev’s hurt—bad,” she rushed. “Boltav wants you to meet him at the Wire Over-Bridge.”

Her stomach bottomed out as fear rushed into Lyne’s eyes. He swallowed once and turned back to Lynic and Teldre. “Don’t follow,” he instructed his son. “Teldre…”

“I know what to do.” The woman was running towards the entrance to their complicated home even before she finished speaking.

In the seconds that followed, Iena and Lynic found themselves staring at each other in the silence. Iena for her part couldn’t still the trembling in her stomach. Whatever her message had meant had not been lost on Lynic. He tried to smile, but Iena could see the cold fear in the boy’s eyes just as she felt it in her heart.

“You wanna throw a ball around?” the boy offered, forcing himself to smile.

Iena swallowed and furrowed her brow. She felt her head go light so she allowed herself to collapse to a seated position. “I’m not sure I feel up to it…”

Lynic sighed and approached to sit next to her. “Me neither,” he murmured.

“Is the Wire Over-Bridge a bad thing?” Iena ventured a question after too many seconds of heavy silence.

“Yeah…” Lynic mind whirled as he admitted the truth. He didn’t know what he would do if Uncle Zev didn’t come home. What if…?

“Hey Lynic,” Iena interrupted the boy’s panic. Sure she was frightened, creeped-out, and unnerved, but the boy looked two steps from stricken. If anyone needed her right then, it was Lynic. She would be an adult, and she would help. “You know, I think throwing a ball around sounds like a great idea.” Iena smiled as she pulled him to his feet. “Never too old to learn a new trick, eh?”

Lynic smiled up at her and ran a quick hand over his eyes. “Too much dirt blowing around,” he explained.

“I see.”

“Sure,” he said, running his eyes over the clearing in search for his ball. He darted for it and looked back at her. “It’s easy,” he said. “I throw it and you catch it.”

“We’ll see,” she laughed.

Iena wasn’t any better with her first attempts at ‘throwing a ball around’ than she’d been in her first attempts at cooking. She couldn’t manage to catch the ball and poor Lynic did more running after a wide toss than anything else.

After a while, Iena felt like she’d had enough of looking like a moron for one day. She’d managed to catch one of a hundred of Lynic’s throws and the boy was running far less than he’d been forced to at first.

“How about we take a break?” Iena asked. “I think I’ve tortured you enough for one day.”

Lynic laughed a little and shook his head. “No… you’re better than when Aunt Teldre first started playing with me,” he assured her. “Sometimes it would go backwards!” He grabbed his stomach and laughed as he remembered her horrible attempts.

“Well, as much as I like Teldre, that makes me feel a little better.” Iena sighed as she looked at the tow-headed boy. While she wasn’t prepared to throw the ball any more, she didn’t want to abandon them both to their worry and their misery again. “I have a new recipe I want to try,” she started. “Feel like walking me home and then giving me a hand? I could always use someone with a little experience to watch.”

Lynic grinned—very much like the grin his father often wore. “Sounds fun,” he agreed. “I’ll just need to leave a note…”

It took little time for Lynic to leave a note explaining his whereabouts and for the two to travel to Iena’s cabin.

“Wow, you got one of the good ones!” Lynic commented as he ran his hand over the stones in the great center-chimney.

Iena smiled. “I kinda got that impression,” she agreed. “I like it here. Kitchen’s this way, Lynic.”

The boy turned and rushed to follow her through the small door into the kitchen beyond. The two delved into Iena’s recipe. Iena wasn’t surprised with the number of times that Lynic stopped her before putting in too much or too little of something. When he pointed out that she was attempting to add an entirely incorrect ingredient she laughed and pushed the entire mess away.

“I think that I’m jinxed!” she laughed. “I just can’t seem to do this.”

“It’s hard!” Lynic contended. “I’m not good—I just have made that mistake before. We should keep going,” he insisted. “I know that if we can get it, these will be good.”

Iena grinned. The boy made it easy for her to forget her fears and her worry—she could only hope that she was doing as well for him. “Well, I suppose if you’re so insistent, I can’t just abandon it.”

After far too much time, the two managed to turn out a few decent batches of cookies. They didn’t even smell toxic.

“What do you think, Lynic?” she questioned as she investigated the plate. “Are they safe?”

Lynic giggled. “Aunt Teldre always said that if it’s not moving it’s edible. They’re not moving… I think it’d be more fun on the porch though.”

“I agree.” Iena grinned and the two moved to the comfortable rockers on the front porch.

“Welcome back, Vel,” Iena called as her friend approached.

“Hi, girl… oh hi, Lynic!” She smiled and reached out to tousle his hair. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Join us?” he asked, holding up the plate of cookies. “They’re pretty good.”

“Love to.”

The three sat in silence for a few moments while Velita got comfortable. Lynic broke the stillness, however.

“Will—will you guys go back to Mars when your time-off is done?”

“That was the plan,” Iena started. She was surprised by the twisting in her gut when she answered. A very real part of herself cried out when she answered in the affirmative. What about…?

“But you know,” Vel started with a smile, “plans change all the time.”

“Really?” Lynic perked up and smiled with hope filling his eyes.

Vel offered the boy a wink. “You bet.”

The three sat on the porch, munching cookies and playing word games as the sun lowered in the sky. The shadows had grown long by the time that Lyne appeared to claim his son. Before either Vel or Iena realized he was there, the man stood at the stairs to the porch.

“Lynic…”

“Papa,” the child eased to his feet, the question written in his eyes. He walked towards the man, lifting a cookie as he passed the plate.

Iena pressed her hand against her chest, trying to calm her heart which thundered—first at his sudden appearance and then at what he might know. Vel, for her part, just had to deal with the surprise.

Lyne offered her a tired, grateful smile. “Thanks for taking care of my yard-ape,” he laughed as he pulled Lynic close. He hated that he could only seemed to remember just how deep the love for his son ran when tragedy struck.

“It wasn’t any trouble…” Iena swallowed hard and stood. She wanted to ask, but she didn’t want to know—not if the news was bad. Surely he would tell her…? Maybe not in front of his son.

“We made cookies, Papa.” Lynic held the object up for his father to inspect.

Lyne smiled. “They look good.”

Iena bit the side of her mouth. The sad tone in which the normally up-beat man spoke, tore at her heart and her mind. She had to know. “Lyne…” she started.

“We have to be getting back,” he cut her off with a shake of his head. The earthling stared into her eyes, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t ask questions. He wasn’t prepared to explain to her—especially not in front of Lynic.

“Of course… Let me just grab something to send these cookies home with you,” she said.

“That’s not nec…” Lyne shrugged when Iena disappeared back into the cabin.

Vel furrowed her brow and frowned. Something was wrong and she could read it in the air—something that Lyne didn’t want to discuss. She stood and walked over to the pair.

The woman offered them both a soft smile. “You know, my grandmother once told me that I frowned too much,” she said.

“Really?” Lynic asked, looking up at her. “You don’t frown now…”

Velita smiled. “That’s right—she said that if I did it too often my face would get stuck like that.”

Lynic’s frown flipped over when she touched the boys chin.

Vel looked up to Lyne and shrugged. “Same goes for you, pops.”

Lyne shook his head, but even his fear couldn’t keep the grin from his lips. “Thank you, Vel.”

“Here you are!” Iena announced as she shoved the small container full of cookies into Lynic’s hands. “You be sure to share, young man.”

“I will!”

Relief filled the woman as Zev entered the circle of light where she waited for him. Boltav had kept her updated on his progress, but seeing him well and standing was better than any report.

She jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. “I was so worried.”

He closed his eyes as he held her. “I’m fine… thanks to you.”

The Mars native drew back and searched his face. “Zev, what happened?” Iena murmured, tears coming to her eyes.

He reached out and touched her cheek. He didn’t want to tell her—he didn’t want her to fear him. However, she’d asked, and she at least deserved to know. The man couldn’t look at her while he explained though.

“Many years ago, I’d volunteered for a restoration project. It turned out to be a little more than I bargained for. Bottom line, it made my skin highly sensitive to the sun. I have ways to deal with it, but the side effects are less than desirable—so I ignored it for a few of days. It just caught up with me.”

Iena furrowed her brow. “What could be so horrible that you’d choose to have your skin fall off?” she begged, as the memories rose to turn her stomach.

Zev swallowed and turned back to behold her. Even in the harsh illumination from the floodlight, she was gorgeous. Her dark hair shone, and her green eyes glittered with tears—tears for him—that somehow added to the beauty. He closed his eyes, trying to sear that image in his mind to keep with him once she was gone—one she loathed and feared him. “The side-effects are hideous,” he admitted in a hushed tone, “but what made me choose to avoid them is you. You can’t image how horrible it is—you couldn’t abide me if you knew.”

He closed his eyes again and turned from her in shame. Even his cryptic words couldn’t impart how devastating the ‘cure’ was. She wouldn’t understand until he showed her, and when he did, it was over. Every moment they’d shared would be splintered to fit in his box of tattered memories.

“I can’t believe that.” She crossed her arms and planted her feet in a wide, determined stance. “Nothing can be much worse than what I saw… You’re skin came off in my hand!” Tears returned to her eyes. “Do you know what it’s like to watch someone you’ve grown to love as he disintegrates before your eyes?”

“No,” he admitted, shaking his head. He wished he could take her words of love and wrap them around him; but he didn’t have a right to that. She didn’t know what she was saying—she didn’t know what manner of creature she professed to love. “But I do know what it’s like to have it happen to you. I know what it’s like when those you love see the alternative.” He swallowed, fighting the lump in his throat. “I know what it’s like to watch the horror fill their eyes as their love for your shatters and the only thing left to replace it is terror.”

Iena had no answer for his agonizing words. She couldn’t imagine anything that could be that horrible. If it was just to protect him from the sun…

The Martian took a step towards him and rested her hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know of what you speak, but an ancient poet once wrote of love as a ship that did not waver in its course so long as it had the North Star to guide it. I don’t know how many things have changed since he wrote that, but look…” She raised her other hand to point out the bright light in the heavens, visible even through the intense illumination in which they stood.

“Love is not love…” he murmured.

“Exactly,” she replied, stepping before him. Both hands rested on his face and she offered a pleading smile. “You cannot know my devotion until it is tested. You cannot know my love until it is proved. Give me that chance.”

Zev fought the tears. Her speech was beautiful, and he would have given into it, if his sin was as simple as most humans’—but it wasn’t. He couldn’t trust even her with it. The earthling shook his head and stepped around her to walk away.

“I killed my best friend,” she blurted. It was the only way she could hope to gain his trust.

Zev froze, just at the edge of the ring of light. He turned back to look at her, his head tilted to one side. Why did she say such a thing?

The woman nodded, fighting her tears. “It was the night we graduated Level 2. We were both partiers and liked to cruise the fast track. We’d gone to a party on the city-station that orbits Mars. I can’t even tell you everything we did, because I can’t remember—that’s how many modifiers we blew.

“I couldn’t have walked a straight line, much less landed my miserable shuttle. It was horrible…” She closed her eyes against the memory and licked her lips. “She died in the crash.” Iena approached Zev and took his hands and pressed close to him.

Zev closed his eyes, his heart burning to share his burdens with her as she had reached out to share hers with him. His head lowered so that his forehead rested against hers. “What if I told you I was a monster?” he whispered.

She sniffed and rocked her head back and forth. “I’d say we all are in our own ways.”

The tears raced down his face as he withdrew his hands to grip her upper arms. Zev opened his blue eyes and locked them on hers. He shook his head. “But what if mine wasn’t a metaphor?”

Before she could answer, Zev turned and fled into the night. Iena stared after him, knowing that even if she called out, he wouldn’t answer or return. As she stood crying in silence, a mournful wolf’s baying filled the night air. Chills danced up and down the Martian’s spine while the hair on the back of her neck stood up as a familiar note of grief rang true within the cry that sounded something between a creature’s howl and a man’s sob.