The Color of Distance Read Online Free PDF Page B

air than light. The same glowing fungus that illuminated the rest of the tree covered the low ceiling, filling the room with shadowless blue light. Coils of rope and nets hung neatly from pegs by the door. Shelves growing out of the walls held a variety of baskets, gourds, and leaf-wrapped bundles. The only things marring the sense of neatness and order in the room were several large insects that scuttled purposefully over the glowing ceiling. The floor stepped up to form a raised platform across the wide end of the room. Three aliens were seated on the edge of the raised platform. Their ears spread wide as Juna came in.
    One of the seated aliens beckoned her closer. It was painfully thin; its color seemed faded and it moved slowly. She wondered if it was sick. It motioned her to sit with a flat, economical downward gesture, its fingers partly curled. She sat, facing the gaunt alien. Her guide squatted beside her, its long, slender toes splayed wide for balance.
    The sick alien examined her hands, turning them over and looking at her palms. Then it pinched her fingertips, one after the other, forcing her claws to extend. It hurt. Juna tried to pull away, but the alien’s grip was like iron, despite its frail appearance. It examined the red spurlike swellings on her wrists, and ran its fingers lightly over her back. It even spread her legs and examined her genitalia. Juna remembered showing sheep at farm fairs as a teenager. She knew now how those sheep felt as they were being judged. She suppressed the urge to struggle. Her life depended on these aliens. A hostile move now could be fatal.
    At last the examination ended. Her guide and one of the other aliens got up and left the room, pushing through a crowd of curious onlookers at the door. Juna suddenly felt very weak and shaky. She rested her forehead on her knees as the shock of all she had been through today caught up with her. She wasn’t giving them a very good impression of the human race, Juna thought, embarrassed by her weakness. With an effort, she mastered herself and sat up.
    The two remaining aliens watched her in silence; faintly luminous patterns flowed over their skins like the reflection of waves in a pool. The frail alien motioned toward a pile of gourds. More patterns flickered over its skin. The other alien got up and brought the sick one a gourd. The sick alien lifted the lid, pulled out a thick honeycomb, and handed it to her.
    Gingerly, Juna bit into it. Thick, sweet honey dripped down her chin and gushed into her mouth. She chewed, sucking the sweet syrup out of the comb. She swallowed the honey and spit the comb into her hand. Her skin turned purple as she looked inquisitively at the alien. It handed her an empty leaf. Juna set the chewed wax on it. Bees began clustering on the wax, probably taking it away to use again.
    The sweet honey hit her system with a rush of energy. Her head cleared, and she felt much less shaky. She brushed the emaciated alien’s hand with her knuckles, hoping that her skin reflected her gratitude. Its ears fanned wide in surprise, and it looked at its companion, flushing purple. A wash of patterns flickered over the companion’s skin, too fast for Juna to follow. The sick alien watched, then flickered patterns back.
    Watching, Juna realized that those patterns had meaning. The aliens communicated visually. Her heart sank. If the aliens’ language was visual, it would take a long time for her to learn to communicate with them, especially without her computer. The Survey was scheduled to leave about two and a half Earth-Standard months after the flyer crash. Juna had no idea of how long she had been unconscious. If she didn’t get back to base soon, she might be marooned here forever. Her throat tightened in fear at the prospect. She had to move swiftly. If she couldn’t get an alien guide in a few days’ time, then she was going to have to set out on her own.
    The other aliens returned bearing large leaves piled high