Fifteen minutes later the door to their suite closed behind them.
“The general seemed nice, don’t you think?” Janet asked, unable to wait a second longer for Zhoryan’s reaction.
The warlord hadn’t said a word since they’d left the foyer. Ivan had escorted them to their suite, and her mind raced, trying to figure everything out. Crash-landing on a mysterious planet and meeting the equally mysterious owner was enough to blow anyone’s mind. And now that they were finally alone, she was eager to hear what Zhoryan thought about this whole fucked up situation.
He strode over and checked the door. “It’s locked,” he announced. “And the ‘niceness’ you are seeing,” he said over his shoulder, “is simply Xylan formality. Hospitality is a time-honored tradition amongst Xylan.” He jiggled the old-fashioned lock again before letting go. “I do not trust him.” He turned around and continued. “Pyzon seemed unimpressed with the fact that a Xylan warship had trouble and we’d arrived here in an escape pod. He didn’t ask for specifics, which is troubling. The first question I would’ve asked was why was a Xylan warship in distress? What could cause that? It leads me to believe he already knows the answer.”
“Oh shit, you’re right. He was totally calm about that, as if it happened all the time.” She glanced around, puzzled. The room was lit with an array of heavy, flickering candles. “And what’s up with this room?” She stepped around, giving it a good look. It was very nicely appointed, with one large bed in the middle covered entirely in shiny black bedding. There were substantial dressers and nightstands made of ebony, and no other furniture, not even a chair. An enormous black stone fireplace with a blazing fire on the hearth graced the wall opposite the bed. And in contrast to the black, the walls were all painted blood red. She walked to another door and opened it, only to find a reasonably modern restroom. She turned around in a circle. “I thought Ivan was guiding us both to this same room because it was going to be a two-room suite. Didn’t you? But there’s only one bed here. Why have they placed us in the same room, when there are many rooms in this compound? He understood that we’re not mates, right?”
Zhoryan spread out his naked claws for her to examine. “Believe me, he and Ivan both understood that you and I are unmated. And they can also see that I have lost my gloves. My claws are bare as are your human hands. Pyzon knows humans and Xylan are mating compatible. He is hoping that by pairing us in the same room, he will increase my anxiety.”
She met his troubled gaze. “Is it working?”
“Yes.”
She crooked her head. “Why would he want to stress you out?”
“I suppose it has something to do with the fact that he’s living on the edge of the universe. He must be in hiding. And now the Imperial Warlord of Sector One has arrived and he’s concerned his cover is about to be blown.”
“What cover? What is he hiding?”
“I have no idea, but I’ll find out.”
She took a deep breath, frowning. “Zhoryan, I promise I won’t touch you. They can try to do this to you, but I won’t let it happen. I’ve learned your rules and I’ll follow them.”
He gave a curt nod. “I will allow you to call me by my given name and not my title because, for some reason, it sounds pleasant when you speak my name with your New Earth accent.”
“Uh…thanks?” They’d crash-landed and spent the whole day together chatting and getting to know one another, and he was now barely accepting the fact that maybe it was okay to call him by his first name?
Gods. Arrogant much?
“I know you think you won’t try to touch me,” he continued, “but—”
She fisted her hands. “No. Really. I tried to tell you this on the beach. I know you think I’m some sort of primitive, one step above cave dweller, but remember my sister is mated to a Xylan warrior of royal pigment. I promise I would never force testing of compatibility on you. I would never touch your bare hand without your consent.”
His eyes flashed. “Good, because I don’t want a mate, ever.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Okay, I can respect that. I remember you said you didn’t ever want offspring, so I figured that meant you never wanted to find your Bride either. I have an Uncle who feels the same way. He’s never wanted a mate or children and he’s perfectly happy with his life,” she rambled, trying to find the bright side to his announcement, even though the idea of never getting married sounded sad and lonely.
“You may want to touch me, but you must deny your cravings.”
“What?” Okay, now she was getting offended. “I didn’t say I wanted to test with you!”
He sniffed. “All females want to test compatibility with me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Must be nice to be so popular.”
“Not really. It’s why I wear the gloves. I am often subjected to females trying to force testing, even though I’ve removed myself from the mating database. I also ordered the Manager and the Champion of my line to discontinue setting me up with compatibility tests. I have never participated in a mating test. I’ve refused them all.”
“Never? Not even by accident…?”
“No. I told you, I do not want offspring. A mate means offspring. The whole point of finding your mate is to breed.”
She threw her hands up, totally frustrated with this line of reasoning. “You’re the opposite of me. I’ve always wanted kids. Lots of them.”
He curled his lip and turned away.
Her shoulders slumped and she sighed dejectedly. She’d known this male was completely off-limits due to the fact he was a freaking warlord of royal pigment and she was a lowly half-color human. There was no way there would’ve ever been a testing ceremony between a Xylan of such high-standing in his society and a…Margol human. But part of her had found those reasons negligible, like maybe there’d been an embarrassing hope buried deep inside her heart that a miracle might occur and Zhoryan would meet her, get to know her, and request testing with her because maybe, maybe he’d see what she saw—that there was the possibility they’d be a good match.
But finding out he didn’t want a Bride or kids—well, that was a deal breaker. She’d originally thought he was unmated because he hadn’t yet found his Bride. But now she knew he was very firm in the belief that he never wanted to find his Bride or start his line. He wanted to remain unmated and celibate for the rest of his life. So, all hope was lost. And she couldn’t help the anger that flashed in her heart as she finally came to terms with the absolute truth that Zhoryan wasn’t for her.
“Actually,” she told him, “I respect that you know you don’t want to be a father. Why inflict yourself on future children if you know ahead of time you’d make a terrible parent? I appreciate all your help. And I’m appreciating your friendship, but because you don’t want offspring and I do, we couldn’t be mates. So, I’m onboard with this no touching thing. I also want to make sure we don’t accidentally touch. I wouldn’t want to be stuck with the wrong mate.”
He stared at her, his mouth open, and she swept past him with her chin held high. And then she glanced at what was laid out on the bed and gasped. “Wow, what is that? I can’t believe we didn’t notice this yet.” Because there were amazing clothes draped across the black bedding. A dark shiny suit for Zhoryan and a flowing purple dress for her. She reached out to finger the material, biting her lip.
Zhoryan lifted his suit and checked the tag, clearly surprised. “This is bespoke from Chronos.”
“What?”
“This clothing is handmade by artisans, not flash-made from a clothing fabricator.”
“Oh.” She shrugged, “Everything on New Earth is handmade.”
His lips twisted. “I’m not referring to primitive humans trying to clothe their families against the elements. I’m talking about the best designers and materials in the four sectors. This suit is made by the same clothing designer who suits the Imperial household.”
“Whatever.” Jeez. This man was arrogance on some whole oth
er level of arrogant. And the worst part was he was going to look amazing in his suit. And she’d have to pretend like she didn’t notice. “Well, nothing we can do about any of this, right? We’re going to have to get dressed, go down and eat with the general and play along for now and see how this works out.”
He gestured toward the bathroom. “You use it first.”
“Okay, and I’ll um…take the dress with me and change in there.”
He nodded absently as he stepped over to stare pensively into the fireplace.
7
“I have a chef and two assistants in the kitchen. They serve artisan meals, made from fresh ingredients. I never eat from a food dispenser, only fresh food is served here. It is shipped in each diurnal through the transporter.”
Zhoryan nodded, suitably impressed. He understood how incredibly expensive it was to transport fresh ingredients. In fact, he considered it cost prohibitive onboard his own warship.
“Do you think the ingredients suffered from the transportation?”
“No, this meal is excellent,” he answered as he tore through slabs of meat.
In fact, everything in the dining hall was the best. The room was expansive, with a beamed ceiling and rows of lit torches along the paneled walls. The table was long; it could easily fit two squadrons of warriors and the chairs gleamed with the ebony wood of Xylantic forests. Tapestries depicted ancient battles. The hearth was tall and wide enough for a warrior to step into and it blazed with a satisfying fire. And the heads of rare beasts from the four sectors were mounted about the hall. He’d never seen a more impressive collection of specimens.
Zhoryan glanced at the human seated next to him. Always so close they could touch. He’d caught Ivan’s grin as the giant had placed the two of them side-by-side at the sprawling dinner table. Oh yes, these two knew what they were doing in this regard, putting him so close to an unmated female. But why wouldn’t they care that they were angering an Imperial Warlord? This was what caused him true concern. Their lack of remorse. Their lack of fear.
The female heartily guzzled a giant mug of ale like she’d been born of his House. And she wore a dress that exposed much of her bare flesh—arms, neck, even the tops of her breasts. Her dark hair was caught neatly on her head, and she smelled delicious. It was most annoying.
And whenever Zhoryan looked up from his plate, he caught Pyzon’s gaze, appraising him. “We don’t get visitors from Chronos,” the general said. “I am afforded little civilized company. Therefore, I am quite happy to have the best hunter in the four sectors as a guest in my compound.”
“One of the best,” Zhoryan responded. “There are a few select warriors in the four sectors who are at my level.”
“Jeez. Arrogant much?” Janet sniffed. And then she turned toward Ivan, who was stationed at the door, and whisper-shouted, “Hey Ivan, can I get some more ale, please?” gesturing at her empty mug.
Zhoryan smiled indulgently, knowing Pyzon would be delighted at her eagerness. “It’s not arrogance when it’s the truth,” he answered, “I speak facts about my ability as a hunter.”
Pyzon laughed. “It is true that you are the best.”
“I am one of the best,” Zhoryan repeated. “Uryan is slightly better when it comes to flushing out prey. There are nativist Margols who hunt in the ancient ways who are more skilled than the two of us. And there’s—"
“You are definitely among an elite few. I have heard of you,” Pyzon said. “Four years ago, I booked a trip to the Renuga and discovered when I arrived that you were to have been part of our group, but you’d cancelled. We would have met then.”
Zhoryan paused then answered, “Ah, yes, I remember that trip. I had to cancel due to unexpected business. I was disappointed. I heard it was excellent hunting.”
“It was…Janet of One, tell me more about yourself. You are human?” Pyzon asked the female, trying to include her in their conversation like an honorable Xylan. “I believe I’ve heard of your species. Isn’t your planet primitive and off-limits?”
Janet glanced up. She swallowed a piece of meat and used the back of her hand to wipe a spot of blood from the corner of her mouth. She’d been doing her best to tear and eat strips of the meat in front of her with her useless human hands, making little progress. “Yes, I’m human,” she answered as Zhoryan dragged her plate close and used his own sharp claws to shred her meat into smaller, more manageable chunks. She mouthed “thank you” then continued, “A human must be a surprise because we’re not seen in the four sectors. My species is from the original planet, Earth. But, a thousand years ago, the Hurlians began secretly kidnapping some of us from our home planet. We are similar in physiology and they wanted to use us as test subjects and sexual respite.”
Pyzon nodded. “The Hurlians are notorious xenophobes. All other species are beneath them. They have no allies.”
“Exactly. They’d eventually taken so many of us off our home planet that they needed a place to store us. They couldn’t keep humans on Hurlia because then we’d be mingling with their own species, which was unacceptable, so they found a remote planet to place us, calling it New Earth. It was basically an overflow planet to put all their kidnapped earthlings. Eventually the original planet, Earth, was deemed off-limits due to the passage of the Rare and Indigenous Species Act and they were no longer allowed to go there. But by then it didn’t matter to the Hurlians. They’d long ago stopped bothering to go all the way to Earth to snatch new humans; we’d been living and breeding new offspring on New Earth for centuries and they could just quickly come over to New Earth to grab any humans they needed.”
“Is this still happening?”
“No.” Janet shook her head. “Zhoryan rescued my planet. He freed us from the Hurlians.”
The general looked askance at him, which was understandable. Why would a Xylan notice what humans were doing? “A Xylan Bounty Hunter, Kayzon of Twenty-Seven, was on a mission that took him to New Earth,” Zhoryan explained. “He reported back to the High Command the atrocities that were occurring there. Breaking the Rare and Indigenous Species Act was against the Scales of Xylan Law. The High Command went swiftly into action.”
“No, Zhoryan went swiftly into action,” Janet reported.
He raised his eyebrows.
“I know the real story. My sister told me that the High Command got the message and were dithering around. You were the one who immediately whipped everyone into action. You told them there wasn’t a minute to lose because beings were suffering.”
He coughed and took a sip of ale. Janet of One grinned at back at him and he felt a strange warmth blossom in his chest.
“Well, it was good that the Xylan removed the Hurlians then,” Pyzon commented.
“Oh yes. That’s why I’m here now and not isolated on my planet. Humans on New Earth do not have the same designation as humans from the original planet. Earth is still protected under the Rare and Indigenous Species Act and humans from New Earth are not allowed to return to the original planet. But humans on New Earth are considered citizens of the four sectors. We are assisted in nation building by the Gravians. The Xylan are our allies. As citizens of the four sectors, New Earth humans can to travel to any part of the universe that we wish. So, you might run into more humans now, because we’re free.”
Pyzon smiled warmly at his human. “I hope so.”
Zhoryan found himself in an expansive mood. Pyzon’s etiquette and hospitality were on par with the best royal pigment on Chronos. And he was a fellow hunter. A peer. Maybe there was a satisfactory explanation for this male’s choice to live on this remote planet, and for his annoying habit of continually placing him in proximity to this female.
Zhoryan lifted his chin. “I am enjoying your display of heads in this hall. Are these ancient?” he asked, giving the older warrior an opening to boast of the exploits of his line.
“No, I hunted these specimens myself.”
Zhoryan’s eyes widened. “You did? All of them? I assumed these heads
were well-maintained relics passed down in your line, or replicas…”
“No,” Pyzon smirked. “I bagged those beasts. They each represent a hard-won hunt.”
“But live hunts are only allowed in specific areas in the four sectors and the license fee is exorbitant. I myself have only ever joined five different live hunts in my entire life.”
“Really? Only five? But I read your treatise on the joys of hunting in the snows of…”
“I did that on Xylan’s training facility. They have one of the most enormous holo decks in the four sectors. There is every type of animal to hunt. Rare species. Extinct species. All planets, all types.”
Pyzon sniffed. “I’ve hunted in those settings myself. But it still lacked an essential element. I didn’t enjoy the safety, the boundaries, or the fact that it’s not actual hunting. You see, Warlord Zhoryan, my whole life is centered around the hunt.”
Zhoryan found himself staring again at the heads, amazed at such a varied collection of live hunts assembled in one place. Although each animal had been legally hunted, the waste of a magnificent animal when a comparable replica of that hunt could be simulated on a holo deck, was mildly disturbing. This was in fact a heated debate amongst hunters, the ethics of live hunts for sport versus holo hunting. He always found himself in the middle of such debates, able to see both points of view.
“I think they’re terrifying,” Janet remarked. “That animal over there looks like it’s about to jump off the wall and tear my throat out.” She shivered with obvious disgust and reached forward to chug more ale, letting out a wet burp. Her eyes widened and her cheeks pinkened. “Oops, sorry.”
Pyzon smiled indulgently. “The Ikitza is indeed terrifying. That was the most difficult hunt of my life, I was severely injured and had to spend a week in the medical bay. For me, each of those heads is a memorial to a pleasant memory, a reminder of the passion of my life. After my line was banished from Chronos in the great diaspora of the four Houses in oh-nine, many nobles lost everything, but I maintained my wealth by investing heavily in Gravian securities. I’d been hunting my whole life, having started at five years old when my father showed me how to hold a blaster and take down an Ooster on our reserve. And I’ve never stopped since and only grown in my skills. After I left Chronos, I of course continued to hunt. My whole life was hunting. And after I’d exhausted all the holo hunting and licensed options in the four sectors, I wanted to hunt real animals in my own way and therefore I bought this planet to stock, and this is where I now live and hunt.”
Zhoryan's Game Page 5