Nashatyr

      Someone was trying to bring her back to consciousness. It couldn't be said that Zoya fainted easily, but it had happened a couple of times before, so she knew what it felt like. A familiar smell hit her nostrils. Smelling salts... The woman focused on her sensations. Arms... Wrists aching... Legs... Numb... And her head was throbbing. Zoya struggled to open her eyes.       "Put away your damn smelling salts... Put them away, that's enough, I can't breathe!" she nasally forced out.       The response was a grumble. And an indistinct movement of the figure leaning over her. Zoya focused her gaze... And screamed. A terrifying mask was frozen in front of her face. Black, perforated lenses with an aggressive squint stared at her, concealing the true expression in her savior's eyes. A sloping metallic forehead and a beak-like facial part with slits on the sides completed the picture. God, why couldn't this be a dream?       The stranger jerked at her scream. He growled in displeasure, shook his head, and slowly rose. Now he towered over the helpless captive like a true colossus, like a mountain. Powerful legs, remaining in her field of vision, were partially encased in armor, partially covered with something like a mesh. Resignedly lifting her head, Zoya tried to take in the mighty figure in its entirety. But the stranger's head was lost somewhere in the heights. Everything started to swim before her eyes again... Where was that smell coming from...       And again, with some unexpected jerk, she regained consciousness. The giant had already stepped away, but unfortunately hadn't left completely. He stood at the exit, examining Zoya. Overcoming weakness and nausea, the woman tried to get up. Her gaze involuntarily fell on the body sprawled nearby. The sight almost stopped her heart again: the bandit was missing his head. Fortunately, Zoya was distracted by the sudden realization that she was no longer hindered by ropes. She looked at her hands and feet: the bonds had been neatly cut and were lying nearby. The stranger calmly observed her fussing.       Okay... She needed to somehow organize her thoughts... He hadn't killed her. He had killed the leader, beheaded him... And apparently destroyed all the other bandits... But he hadn't touched her. That was already reassuring. But it was better not to show her relief too obviously for now...       "Did you do this?" her own voice sounded unusually hoarse. There was no response.       "Who are you?"       Zero reaction.       Having come to her senses a bit and grown bolder, Zoya stood up. Oh, how her numb legs ached!       The giant noticeably tensed but didn't move from his spot.       "Did you save me?" the woman took a couple of uncertain steps in his direction. It was time to wet herself with fear, but she had to keep it together... He could have killed her with a single flick, but he didn't, which meant he wasn't her enemy. And the real enemies were no longer alive. Thanks to him, by the way.       A warning growl was heard. Zoya stopped.       The dim light from a gap in the tarpaulin fell on the armored, menacing figure. And now Zoya could see quite clearly that this was definitely not some clever camouflage suit concealing a human body. Because the armor actually revealed quite a bit.       What was it? A mutant? An experimental weapon?       An alien???       Zoya stood motionless, openly staring at the enigmatic stranger who resembled a reptoid straight out of a sci-fi novel. He looked... incredible! Rough, scaly skin peeked through the large mesh covering the creature's chest, thighs and shoulders. Several terrible old scars stretched across its partially exposed abdomen. A corrugated gorget encircled its neck, from under which protruded something like a carelessly assembled necklace of bones and teeth. Skeletal fragments adorned a couple other spots as well. In particular, a fresh human skull with traces of blood hung from the mesh at its waist. So that's where the bandit's head ended up...       The alien's head was crowned by a strange helmet that fully covered its face but left the temporal and occipital areas unprotected. Wires and hoses extended from behind its back to the mask. It seemed to be part of some grotesque spacesuit. But did this mean Zoya was truly facing an extraterrestrial being unable to breathe Earth's atmosphere?       But could life on another planet really evolve to be so similar to Earth's? A reptile like Earth's, with scales and claws? Or a humanoid bipedal form? Weren't these just fairy tale plots adapted for better human perception? Shouldn't life from another planet look fundamentally different from all living things found on Earth?       Maybe. Or maybe not. There's a theory that life can only develop on Earth-like planets and always follows the same scenario. Plants that produce oxygen always grow. Worm-like and jellyfish-like animal forms always emerge, along with arthropod and fish analogues, and all the other "templates" we know. And as the "crown of evolution" - some bipedal skilled creature possessing not only dexterous hands, but also remarkable intelligence... If that's really the case... then yes, it all adds up.       Or another possibility: Zoya had gone mad, or been drugged, and was hallucinating. But that was easy to check. If the alien answered her in Russian now, then that must be it. "Do you speak our language?" Zoya asked, probably the dumbest question of her life in the most ridiculous situation of her life. There was no response. Could it really not be a hallucination?       "What a head you've got..." the woman remarked absently. Oops, did she say that out loud? However, there was again no reaction to her words. And the stranger really did have a strange head. Large. Covered not with dreadlocks as Zoya had initially thought, but with some rubber-like protrusions of a graphite shade. From afar they really did resemble Afro braids, as they were covered in metal and leather rings. These protrusions seemed to be part of the creature's body rather than an element of its costume. This mane could play the role of a secondary sexual characteristic or indicate age and status. It could also potentially be involved in thermoregulation. But now was not quite the right time for hypothesizing.       The presumed alien stood over two meters tall - its head almost touched the tent's roof. It had an athletic but somewhat heavy build, though that might have been due to the armor. Something like a small cannon was visible above its left shoulder, and either a spear or some other piercing-cutting weapon protruded from behind its back - Zoya knew absolutely nothing about such things.       The alien's hands looked quite human-like, if you ignored the scales and claws. Well, the fingers were more widely spaced, the palm proportionally wider and shorter than a human's, but otherwise - normal hands. Bulky bracers adorned with what appeared to be electronics decorated its forearms. Powerful shins were encased in metal like a medieval knight's, but the footwear was quite rudimentary - toes with claws poked out, over which some metal duplicates were laid. Perhaps for protection, perhaps to make kicks more painful.       While Zoya had been staring impolitely long at her savior and tried to address him several times, he continued standing in place, only swiveling his heavy head from side to side. These movements strikingly resembled a bird's - sharp and brief. It seemed the mask impeded vision, and its wearer had to turn his head to examine objects of interest from all angles. Now he was clearly studying the human and couldn't decide what to do next.       But then, as if satisfied that the former captive was in relatively good shape and more or less steady on her feet, or perhaps simply losing interest in her, the alien turned and walked out. Then, coming to her senses, Zoya rushed to the exit but froze when she saw what had become of the camp. Tents smoldered and vehicles burned around her, several craters smoked. The smell of a battlefield hit her nose: burning, hot iron, charred paint, fabric and flesh... Bodies were visible everywhere. Torn apart, disemboweled, with smashed heads or no heads at all... Zoya squeezed her eyes shut, unable to examine the horrific scene in more detail. Had the brute really done all this alone? Or were there others with him, and all his friends had left while he stayed behind?       When the woman forced herself to open her eyes, she found her savior had already walked quite far away. But was he really a savior? Or just a murderous thug whose interests had by lucky chance aligned with those of an earthly woman? Watching the rapidly retreating figure, Zoya pondered. He had destroyed her tormentors, left her unharmed and even helped her - if he hadn't cut the ropes, she'd have been in trouble. And now everything was working out so conveniently as he walked away. That meant Zoya would stay alive. Stay here. Alone. Alive. With corpses all around... Unless the dead raiders' friends showed up...       The last thought chilled her. The big guy was getting further and further away, and with each passing second Zoya became increasingly aware of how dangerous things were turning once again. A decision had to be made immediately. Staying in the camp to await the bandits' belated reinforcements meant certain death. Staying alone in the forest - death with high probability. Going with the unknown being... Death with a certain degree of probability.       "Wait!" Zoya set off after her dubious hero on legs still wobbly with fear. He did indeed suddenly stop, turn around, and growl softly. Then he continued on.       "I said wait!"       He turned irritably again and made a warning lunge, shooing the woman away like a stray dog. Then he confidently resumed his journey.       "I'm not staying here alone!" Overcoming the paralyzing terror, Zoya tried once more to catch up to the strange giant. But he no longer reacted to her. Heading towards the edge of the forest, he pressed something on his left bracer and... simply vanished. Or rather, not completely vanished, but turned into a blurry, light-refracting outline. Camouflage?                   Interesting... They say the military has something like that too... But who cares, those things are only effective in rough terrain anyway. And up close, in open space and in daylight, such camouflage is useless.       "Listen, I can still see you! This won't help!" Zoya called out, continuing her pursuit. This time she seemed to have achieved the desired effect. The giant stopped and deactivated his concealment - silently now. Apparently he realized that growling or not, the pesky creature was not deterred. Waiting for the woman to approach, and only then turning around again, he stared at her pointedly.       What a huge guy he was after all... If it was a guy... Finding herself in close proximity to him, Zoya swallowed the lump in her throat for the umpteenth time today. She had to tilt her head back to establish eye contact with the hulk. But suddenly her gaze was drawn to something even higher than his shaggy head. The woman flinched in surprise. There were more bodies up there...       Two skinned humans dangled from a tree, suspended by their feet. These appeared to be the lookouts. Something suggested they had been the first victims. Zoya tore her eyes away from the gruesome sight with difficulty and looked at the presumed "artist" behind it. She had no idea if he could recognize facial expressions, but just in case, she tried to appear confident as she waited for his next reaction.       For a minute the alien did nothing, as if pondering something, then suddenly pointed his clawed paw at Zoya and himself, then somewhere into the forest, and tilted his head to the side as if awaiting an answer. His abrupt movements clearly expressed impatience.       "You're asking if I'll go into the forest?" Zoya clarified. "Well, there's nowhere else to go but the forest. Of course I'll go! I'm going with you! Understand? You don't understand? I. Am. Going. With. You," she pronounced the last three words loudly - in a subconscious effort to convey meaning through raised tone - and nodded her head emphatically with each word for added conviction.       But instead of establishing mutual understanding, something bad happened. The alien recoiled, apparently surprised by this unexpected forcefulness, took two big steps back, crouched down spreading his arms, and suddenly reared up. A blood-curdling roar shook the morning air, with metallic notes added by the resonating mask, and the resulting sound chilled to the bone. Zoya felt herself falling into helpless stupor. Time seemed to slow down, before her eyes was only this huge threatening figure with deadly arms outstretched... The soulless gaze of empty lenses, the metal of the breathing apparatus vibrating from the menacing growl... This was it... She had made a mistake... She shouldn't have followed him.       He began to advance... So slowly and inexorably... With a thin ringing sound, two blades extended from his right forearm... Zoya had already seen them in action. Had seen how the alien cut open the gang leader's bulletproof vest like a tin can. How he had screamed... How they had all screamed!       The sharp dagger-like claws were already reaching for her neck. Now this terrifying creature would grab the poor earthling by the throat with one hand and disembowel her with the other. And there would be no more adventures...       It's unclear how, but in the split seconds before the irreparable nearly occurred, the paralysis suddenly left the woman. Without thinking, obeying instinct, Zoya began to sink to the ground while simultaneously covering her head with her arms. Something whistled by at lightning speed, missing the top of her head by millimeters... But Zoya was already lying on the grass, curled up in a ball.       The menacing shadow blocked out the sun, lingered for a moment, then moved off to the side. The woman felt with her back how the giant silently circled around her, apparently figuring out where best to strike. She didn't move, even stopped breathing. Blood pounded loudly in her temples. Blades of grass unpleasantly pricked her face. The hulk seemed to be stopping. His muffled rumble sounded from somewhere above... But why was he hesitating?       Minutes ticked by one after another, but nothing happened. The killer loomed as a silent colossus over the helpless creature huddled at his feet. At first he still growled like an angry lion, then only his loud breathing could be heard, but soon even that calmed down.       Finally Zoya grew bolder and slowly raised her head to look at the volatile brute who had nearly finished her off. No aggression followed from his side. He stood motionlessly looking down at her. Now only his periodically clenching and unclenching fists betrayed his agitated state. He hadn't retracted the blades yet either, but at least he'd stopped waving them around - small mercies...       Convinced the danger had passed, the woman stood up and straightened, trying not to make any careless movements.       "I'm still going with you," she said as firmly as she could, overcoming herself and suppressing her trembling. And she repeated the recent gestures of the creature standing opposite - pointed at him, herself and the forest, insistently shaking her head. It was right then that the alien suddenly flared up with indignation again, but this time visibly restrained himself - he only rudely poked Zoya in the chest and made a clearly warning sign in front of her face, rubbing something invisible between his claws, then abruptly straightening his fingers. "If I want to, I'll grind you to dust and scatter you to the winds, don't piss me off!"       The nods... The nods irritate him! Zoya nearly slapped her forehead at the sudden realization. A terrestrial analogy immediately came to mind. Dominant iguanas and agamas nod vigorously at competitors and subordinates, and they immediately understand that nothing good awaits them. For these reptiles, a nod is not a greeting or agreement, but a challenge. Perhaps it's not just them... If the big guy is indeed an alien lizard whose ancestors by some strange coincidence had a similar signaling system, it's quite possible that he perceived the human's harmless gesture somehow differently. These are the difficulties of translation...       The short fight between the alien and the bandit immediately flashed through her memory - indeed, it had begun with a deep nodding motion. And the hulk had demonstrated the same to Zoya herself a short while ago, when he had nearly flattened her. Fortunately, the alien seemed to have realized his mistake, which is why he didn't attack the second time.       Deciding she should be more careful in her actions, the researcher chose another body movement to indicate agreement and reconciliation - a shallow bow. The main thing was not to raise her head quickly, then it should come across as quite pacifying... To her surprise, the alien responded with a similar slight incline of his head, holding it lowered for a moment. Had she guessed right? Well, with some difficulty, but things seemed to be moving along.       Having settled the formalities, her newfound companion sharply turned around as if on the command "about face" and headed for the forest. Not waiting for an invitation, Zoya hurried after him, but halfway there she remembered something.       "Wait!" she called out again. The reptoid turned around, but more calmly and smoothly this time, and stared at the woman as if to say, "Well, what is it now?"       "I can't go like this, I need to get my things! Damn, how do I explain this to you?"       The alien was already preparing to leave, ignoring the human female's shouts, but Zoya caught up to him and, risking paying for her carelessness again, tried to take his hand. Stunned by such audacity, the alien yanked his paw away from her and hastily stepped back, clutching the limb to his chest as if afraid the touch might be poisonous.       Zoya began helplessly gesticulating, pointing at the camp and trying to beckon him to follow. A distrustful growl was heard, but after some hesitation, the hulk finally gave in and moved in the indicated direction.       Together they returned to the tent. Suppressing her nervous trembling with all her might, the researcher stepped inside. She tried not to look at the disfigured corpse lying there, but her gaze kept inadvertently falling on it. Walking deeper in, the woman began rummaging through a pile of junk where she thought she had seen her belongings yesterday. She wasn't mistaken, her backpack was there. The contents had clearly been rifled through by strangers' hands, but it seemed nothing important was missing. Most crucially, her documents remained intact... The alien approached and peered over her shoulder. Then he walked around and squatted down, sticking his paw into the backpack without permission.       "Hey!" was all Zoya could exclaim.       He paid no attention. He rummaged through the things and fished out Zoya's spare bra. Just brilliant! For a minute the hulk puzzled over the delicate element of women's undergarments in his claws. Zoya felt that a little more and, despite the overall seriousness of the situation, she would simply burst out laughing. Nerves...       "Put that back," she said quietly but firmly, composing herself. And he actually did put it back. Only to immediately extract from the depths of the backpack... a pack of sanitary pads!       "You really have a lucky hand..." the woman said in a fallen voice. "Don't you want to try again?"       The reptoid turned and stared at her, apparently questioningly. What was this creature babbling about all the time? Oh what a picture it was... An alien monster meditating on feminine hygiene products...       "Please put that back where you found it too," Zoya asked as calmly as possible. "It's valuable bandaging material, the last package..."       And the hulk seemed to obey again. No, he probably didn't understand the meaning of the words, unless he guessed from her intonation. But he didn't stop investigating the backpack. After rummaging at the bottom, he pulled out something else. Now his wide rough paw held several jars with formaldehyde-preserved specimens. The alien froze and slowly turned his gaze back to the woman standing nearby; this time his posture looked as if a sudden revelation had dawned on him. Standing up, he held out the samples to Zoya on his open palm, accompanying his actions with intermittent chirping. It seemed these small dead animals in glass vials greatly interested him.       "Yes, those are mine, I caught them," Zoya answered the presumed question. The alien examined the vials once more, then surprisingly gently handed them back to their owner, after which he touched the string of bones hanging at his waist. The woman shuddered slightly. It seemed they had finally found it - the necessary point of contact. Perhaps this guy was some kind of hunter or collector? And now, having come across dead lizards in the backpack, he was beginning to respect Zoya, you could say he even saw in her a kindred spirit. This evoked mixed feelings... But at the moment it could play in her favor.       Apparently impressed by his find, the reptoid stepped aside, giving Zoya a chance to calmly pack her backpack. As soon as everything was ready, they silently left the tent and headed together towards the forest.