“Leave me alone, leave me alone!” she moaned, tears welling behind her eyelids. It reminded her of her first visit back to her mother’s people, how the village children had poked and prodded at her in her foreign clothes, only this time she didn’t have any relatives to shoo away the curious. She was more alone than she had ever been before.
A gentle hand brushed her shoulder. She brushed it away. When it rested on her shoulder again, Juna looked up angrily, ready to fend off another curious alien. It was her guide. She looked around. The other aliens, except for the sick one, had all left. Her guide led her to a small storeroom near the bottom of the tree. In the room was a pile of empty gourds lying with their lids askew, stacks of dried seaweed, a bundle of hollow reeds, coils of rope, neatly folded nets, empty baskets, and a big mound of dry grass. A beetle scuttled out over her feet as she stepped inside. The alien hung a mat over the door and left her alone.
Juna inspected the wall for insects. She found a section that seemed free of visible crawling creatures, leaned against it, and closed her eyes, savoring the solitude. She longed to wake up and find that this whole experience had been nothing more than an exceptionally vivid nightmare, that she was safe in her bed back at the base. Memories of home washed over her with a sudden poignant intensity. The thick milky light falling on the neat, whitewashed walls of her father’s house. The wide stretch of vineyards curving up and away toward the green fields of the satellite’s artificial sky. The sweet smell of hay in the barns, and the small comforting sounds of the horses in their stalls. All of these returned sharp and clear to her in this alien place, filling her eyes with fresh tears.