Risnar: Talking the Talk

Kren and other members of his enforcement team try to communicate with the strange creature they have captured.

She stretched her arms and wriggled her fingers. Then she looked Kren in the eye again and tapped her chest just above her breasts. “Jeannie. Jeannie.”

Kren considered. “Maybe she’s telling us what she is.”

His most junior officer, a young man named Pon, spluttered with disbelief. “Wait—you really think this thing has self-identity?”

“Let’s find out.” Kren sat her on a computer podium. Her feet swung three feet off the ground, and she gazed down at him, her expression expectant. He pointed to himself. “Risnarish. Risnarish.” He pointed to her. “Jeannie.”

She sighed with relief and nodded with enthusiasm. “Jeannie. Risnarish.” She pointed to herself and then him as she spoke the two words. Then she garbled something else and pointed to Arga.

He grinned to be included in the exchange and thumped his chest with a fingerless fist. “I am also Risnarish. Risnarish.”

That earned him a confused look from the Jeannie. She pointed at him and then Kren. “Risnarish? Risnarish?”

Nex had come close with a medical analyzer. He was authorized as a crisis medic, having been in the healing arts before switching to law enforcement. Sometimes Kren thought Nex regretted leaving his old vocation. Nex had a scientific bent and enjoyed dabbling in research projects.

Jeannie noted the olive-and-brown striped officer to her right and pointed to him while giving Kren a questioning look.

“Risnarish,” he confirmed. Maybe the differing coloration confused her. He motioned to all the men. “Risnarish.”

Two lines appeared between her brows as the Jeannie drew them together. Then all at once her expression cleared. She laughed a little, her head shaking.

The sound of her humor was throaty, a wonderful sound. Kren’s mouth dropped open with fresh shock as he exchanged a glance with Arga.

Nex nearly dropped the fragile tube that was the analyzer. He recovered and choked out, “It laughs. It’s made an expression of Spirit.”

Bort took a couple of steps back, his wide face comical with almost fear. “Not possible. It can’t have a soul…can it?”

Another officer named Chal gave him a crooked smile that was half disbelief, half delight. “You heard it, didn’t you?”

Kren said to Arga, “Monsudan creations do not laugh. This is not one of theirs.”

Arga gave him a warning shake of the head. “It’s not up to us to decide that.”

The Jeannie touched Kren’s arm to gain his attention. He looked into her face. “What is it?”

She pointed to him, to Arga, then Nex. She pointed at every man in the room. “Risnarish.” She pointed to herself. “Human. Human.” Again she pointed to him. “Risnarish.” Herself. “Human. Human.” She stared at him, as if willing him to read her mind.

Kren thought hard. First she had called herself a Jeannie. Now there was this new word, Hyoo-man. She had said it as if correlating it to Risnarish.

Arga rubbed the back of his neck. “This is getting us nowhere fast. We need to call the Elders Council.”

“Arga—” Kren started.

“You know we have no choice.”

He gritted his teeth. “Arga—”

“Arga?” The Jeannie gazed at Kren’s partner. “Arga? Risnarish.” She pointed to herself. “Jeannie. Human.”

Nex quivered with excitement. “Wait! Could she be saying she has an actual name?”

Pon looked affronted. “That’s something only sentient beings claim.”

“Why couldn’t she be sentient? Maybe her species is Hoomin like ours is Risnarish.” Nex stepped closer and jabbed his chest with a finger as she had done. “Nex. Nex.”

The Jeannie nodded her head, as excited as him. “Jeannie.” She pointed to him. “Nex.” The finger indicated Arga. “Arga.” Then she said something else that ended with “Jeannie.”

Kren’s partner’s jaw dropped. “She is named. It really could be.”

Bort shook his head, holding it between his hands as if to keep it from exploding. “Attaching a name to oneself can be another expression of Spirit. This is not possible.”

Over the excited chatter of the other officers, Nex grinned at him. “She laughed, though. She shows intelligence. I think we’re looking at a new form of sentience.”

Kren focused on the strange but lovely face in front of him. The implications of her existence were huge, certainly too much for him to grasp at the moment.

* * * * *

He was her savior, but she was his salvation.

Jeannie Gardner escapes from her captors’ clutches only to find herself trapped on a planet far from Earth. When she is discovered by a muscle-bound warrior, she must prove to him, and the Council of Elders, that she is not a creature set free from a lab, but a sentient being from another planet.

If she succeeds, they will send her home. If she fails, she will be executed.

Risnar warrior Kren Bolep is duty bound to protect his village from the Monsuda and their creations. But this small pink-skinned female is different, special. As the bond between them grows, Jeannie’s vulnerability invokes Kren’s protective instincts, and he vows to uncover the truth and secure her future.

But there is a bigger threat looming. The Monsuda are coming to get Jeannie, and they’ll use whatever means necessary. When Jeannie is taken, Kren is forced to choose—disobey the Elders and place his people in danger, or lose the only person who makes him feel whole.

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