Nanny For The Alien General by Athena Storm
Serafina
With a quick snap and a flick of the wrist, the bandage is pressed swiftly into place. I place my hand over it to ensure the salve beneath it soaks completely into the wound.
“Now, leave that on until morning. Change the dressings and keep it clean. If anything looks wrong - and you’ll know if it does - come find me. Otherwise, keep out of the water if you can.”
I stand up, looking the fisherman in the eye. I can practically mouth the next words out of his mouth.
“There’s no way I can keep off the water. We have to keep fishing.”
The fisherman, a young man just starting out, already has the look of desperation and survival that these guys need out here.
Can’t say I blame him but they also need to be smart.
“Look, whatever is out there biting you guys, just…I dunno, be careful. Keep your limbs out of the water. One day, it’ll be a lot more flesh they get a hold of,” I say, as menacingly as possible.
I may as well be talking to the trees.
Within moments, probably if he can still find enough daylight left, he’ll be back out on his boat.
I can’t guarantee he won’t get bitten again. But by what is the biggest question.
This is the third such injury I’ve dressed this week. The same circular bite pattern. The same rapid and ferocious attack. And no one can tell me what this thing looks like or what it could possibly be.
What is certain is that the fisherman are unstoppable. They need to get the fish stores in before the winter freezes up the lake. The whole settlement depends on a strong catch so that we can last the cold months to come.
I understand, but I just wish these guys could keep their hands and feet out of the water. Or at least get a glimpse of whatever it is that’s biting them.
“I’ll do my best, Serafina. Thanks again.”
With that, he leaves, making an exaggerated show of holding his bandaged forearm up as if it was made of some precious material. It’ll be soaked within minutes of him hitting the water. But, I’ve done what I can.
Blowing loose strands of red hair that have fallen around my eyes, I gather up my kit. It’s not fancy, but it does the trick. A small, well-worn basket, I’ve found the perfect way to store bandages, salves, tweezers and other necessaries to help keep these intrepid human settlers in the best shape possible.
It’s not always easy,, I think to myself.
Carefully, I take stock of the anti-infection salve I’ve been using to help heal these strange bite wounds, and close the bottle tightly. It’s probably the most precious thing in my kit. Made from a rare plant tincture and bone marrow of some animal I previously thought was extinct, it makes its way to me through a precarious trade route and by only one peddler, Lorvac.
For some reason, he’s brave (or crazy) enough to consistently trade with our settlement. Every few months he appears in camp, selling all manner of wares that he’s procured from the place we left behind - Evervale.
The largest city in the Ribbon Lakes Territory, it has proven hostile to humans. Turns out, however, while we may not be welcome there, their goods are very much needed here.
This salve has proved to be just the thing to help speed up the healing process. I just worry how long it will last, given the increase in attacks lately.
Picking up my basket, I head back to my cabin, which takes me through the heart of the village. Though simple and, truth be told, pretty crude, there is no place I’d rather be.
Evervale was, by all accounts, a wonder of a city - bustling and full of promise. But only to those born of Kiphian blood. Humans were looked upon as nothing more than vermin. Or, if not vermin, then machines to serve Kiphian interests. Ever since the humans sided with the Alliance in the Centuries War, the Kiphians view of the humans who had emigrated to this world dimmed even further.
Once the kingdoms outlawed human-only settlements (claiming environmental destruction), things went from bad to worse. Shunted into barely inhabitable slums, humans had little means of escape, let alone happiness.
The Ribbon Lakes Territory was no exception. Scanning over the simple but clean huts of the village, leading to my own solitary dwelling seems a palace compared to what I left behind. What we all, as humans, left behind.
Evervale represented nothing more than abject slavery for humans. For those that stayed, the laws became more and more stringent, a slowly tightening noose around freedoms and opportunities.
With a shudder, I switch the basket to my other hand. When I think about what I left behind…
Humans, forced to labor for the Kiphians up to fifteen hours a day, with no hope of advancement or deliverance. The initial colonists that had come from the Interstellar Human Confederation hadn’t realized that they’d stratify themselves. Before long those humans that were successful were able to either make their place in one of Kiphia’s many kingdoms, or leave if they didn’t like it. The ones who weren’t that successful were trapped at the mercy of wherever they or their forefathers had landed. It was no life at all.
So, when an opportunity presented itself for a small group of brave humans to break away and relocate, I felt fortunate to be among them. I suppose my healing, midwifery and wind-reading skills made me valuable in the eyes of a burgeoning settlement but I’m not entirely sure.
Whatever it was, it hardly matters. I’m here and I’m profoundly grateful. As my cabin comes into view, a squat, small but surrounded by the garden I have painstakingly cultivated, I feel a sense of purpose and of peace.
Our little island settlement isn’t much, but it’s home. More importantly, it’s ours. At least, for now. We are well hidden in the middle of an obscure lake which sees little traffic. We live by our own laws, our own codes, and for ourselves. While the work is hard and the days can be long, it’s all worth it, knowing that it serves to benefit us and us alone.
No Kiphian can lay claim to it.
At least not yet. Were our idyllic little island village to be spotted, who knows what would happen? To think that our pristine lakefront could be compromised, the creatures we have come to know and love be scattered from us? That all we love and work so hard to build could be destroyed in a flash…I can’t bear the thought.
The thought appalls me so much, I force myself to shrug it off, instead kneeling to check on my garden. The garbi roots are starting to take shape and the unhula flowers will be ready soon - just in time for drying. Like the fishermen, I too need to ensure my winter stocks are in.
Before opening my cabin door, I look to the water. Fogfrost Lake glitters before me and I can see my recently bandaged fisherman pushing his small boat out, sending protesting ripples outward.
Sighing, I enter my small sanctuary. I can’t stop him but I do hope his arm will remain dry for at least the rest of the day.
I close the door on the village, knowing I have much work to do before I can rest. The settlers of Tilleli are relying on me just as much as I rely on them.
