“I think I know enough words now to ask and understand,” she said, starting a conversation. “Can you tell me who you really are? What you have done in life?”

Nate swallowed his first bite of meat and answered. “That’s a tall order.”

“No order. I only ask,” Leeza replied.

“Oh, that’s just an expression, meaning it’s a little difficult to explain. I’m not the most open person.”

“Open?”

“Yeah, I don’t generally express myself that well, but I’ll try.”

“Perhaps you can start by explaining what you do. Where you come from, what is your job?”

Leeza left her food untouched and stared at the man before her, the slender-shouldered lad with narrow cheekbones and a dimpled chin. She waited for any answers he could give her about his origins.

“Well, I fly for a living.”

“Yes, you have told me. You fly like the bird.”

“Sometimes, but you know I go a lot higher than they ever could. I’m a member of the United American Republic’s SpaceForce. I’m a trained Fighter Pilot, Sigma grade... which of course means absolutely nothing to you.”

“To fly above the sky, above the sun; it must be very... very...”

“Liberating,” Nate answered for her. “It can be, soaring along at a thousand miles an hour, hearing nothing beyond the hum of your instruments and the vibration of the engine. It beats milking cows, I’ll tell you that.”

“Milking cows?”

“Yeah, I grew up on a farm in Wisconsin. We had a lot of cows to milk. Cows are large, hairy creatures that produce a vitamin-rich solution which we harvest for our own consumption.”

Leeza made a retching sound, showing distaste. “You eat animal excretions?”

“Yes, but it’s not what you think. Anyway, I’m used to working on a farm, albeit one considerably different and more technological than yours. Still, we had hay to put up, and vegetables to pick. Animals to herd.”

“And you left that simple life to fly?”

“I left to serve my country, to defend the rights and freedoms of our citizens.”

Leeza hissed in understanding. “I see. You are a flying soldier.”

“Well, not generally. I always thought of it as a pretty cushy assignment. More of a game, really. We’d practice formations, run battle drills against asteroids, but there was never really any threat. My people haven’t been at war in over a hundred years. I joined the SpaceForce to fly cool jets and play with guns. I never expected to find myself in a real firefight.”

“That has changed?”

“Yes. The reason I had to land on your planet was because of an attack. Somebody’s up there,” Nate said, pointing toward the ceiling. “I’ve never seen anything like those ships they sent against us, but they sure pack a punch. I was lucky to get away with my hull in tact.”

“There are other creatures among the stars? Different than you?”

“I really don’t know. All I do know is whoever attacked us had ships unlike anything I’ve ever seen. They were more pod-like than our standard v-shape designs.”

“What if they come down here after you?” Leeza asked.

“Then I’ll be able to look them in the eye when I kill them.”

A peculiar smile flowed over Leeza’s face. “You speak as a true warrior. My family, in the past, have many warriors. They fought bravely, much like you.”

“Well, I’m glad to be in such good company,” Nate said, getting the gist of her disjointed comment.

The morning sun summoned a return to work, but Nate found himself alone in the fields. The still morning should have been inviting to the Leshers, but none ventured outside.

Crossing the southern pasture, Nate found the bunk-house of the farm hands, and gave a few knocks on the weathered door of the log cabin. No response was given, so he ventured inside to find all six laborers in bed, their necks swollen and bodies paralyzed by the Skate.

Nate rushed back to inform Leeza, and found her sitting on the front porch steps, beside the fallen body of the chief hired man, his body limp and lifeless, possessed by the terrible plague. He’d obviously collapsed in mid-step, as he had a bleeding bump on his forehead where the sharp railing had broken his fall.

The illness was everywhere, and the Leshers seemed wholly at its mercy.

Crouching down beside Leeza, Nate saw the tears rolling down her smooth cheeks. It was the first time he had ever seen a Lesher cry. “It’s happening again. They are dying,” she said.

“We’ll see about that,” Nate said, rushing inside.

He had no idea what this plague was, or if he could do anything to stop it, but he had to try something. Digging through his belongings, he found an emergency medical kit neatly tucked away in his survival pack.

Returning to the front porch with the kit in hand, Nate removed a swab and wiped the blood from the old Lesher’s wound, then placed the sample on a small scanning tablet.

“What are you doing?” Leeza asked.