Zhoryan's Game

by Michele Mills

  Why did he continue to find her so fascinating? He normally did not have unmated female acquaintances beyond the occasional co-worker. He knew many females, but none he let in close—because most of the unmated had ulterior motives and zero problem trying to trap him, despite the fact that forced testing was against the Scales of Xylan Law and punishable by death.

  But Janet seemed genuinely concerned with the idea of approval—that their testing would only happen upon his consent. And for this he was grateful. And she’d even stated that she felt they weren’t right for each other and that she had no interest in him as a mate, which he found amusing and refreshing. This was an angle no female had tried before.

  “I’m changing tactics,” he told her. “First, I was creating distance from the compound, but now I want to move cautiously and instead leave a trail the general can’t follow. This will allow us to eventually find a place to hide and sleep. Which way do you think we should go first?”

  She glanced around at the terrain. “I’m surprised you’re asking my opinion. I know you consider me to be a lowly human.”

  “You’re only half human,” he reminded her of a fact she seemed to always forget. “And you’re actually a Gravian of ancient lineage.”

  “True.” And then she pointed to her left. “You know, if we start in that direction it will be the most surprising and hardest to follow because of the rocky landscape.”

  “Good idea,” he grunted. “Let’s go.”

  He continued on his trek, using all his skills learned from hunts in every type of climate and terrain, on many different planets both live and holo-created, against a variety of animals, both small and large. Janet followed close behind, exactly mimicking his steps. He started with a series of loops and doubled on his trail again and again, remembering the way many of the animals he had hunted had behaved. For the first time, he had to put himself in their position. Tonight, he was the hunted.

  And while he trekked through the wilderness, he thought deeply of the female who traveled with him and found himself at war with his own mind and hearts.

  What if, upon his return, he did something crazy, like ask Kayzon for her hand? What if, when this was all over, he spoke to his Manager and set up a compatibility test with Janet of One? It was just a test…

  And then his stomach roiled with uncertainty. He was in a fight for his life, they both might die if he couldn’t get them off this island, and he was thinking of initiating an action that might result in making a female his Bride?

  It was folly. Why risk a testing?

  And then he remembered all the excellent reasons he had for not seeking a Bride. And he remembered every female from his past, who had started to befriend him, only for him to find out he was nothing but a challenge. Bragging rights. Who could finally claim the great Warlord?

  Why did he think this female would be different?

  No one would claim Zhoryan of Seventy-Five. No. One.

  He was serious about his rejection of mating.

  “Zhoryan, can you…?”

  “Leave me alone,” he bit out. “I do not want to talk with a human.”

  “Wow, where did this unbearable asshole come from? Did something bite your ass?”

  “You’re slowing me down,” he threw out, unable to think of any other excuse.

  “Walk faster, I’ll keep up,” she challenged.

  “Having a human with me on this hunt is slowing me down.”

  “Didn’t you just remind me that I’m part Gravian? You only seem to remember I’m half human when you’re mad at me. And speaking of…I don’t even know why you’re mad at me!”

  “I’m tired of having to keep you away from me and make sure you don’t grab my claw and force a testing.”

  “Hey, I’m not your groupie! Gods! I can’t believe you. I told you this already, I’m not spending time obsessing over how I can trick you and force testing of mating compatibility. I’m sorry that there are females out there who aren’t very scrupulous, but I’m telling you that’s not me. I don’t want you as a mate, so we’re on the same page. I’m tired too of keeping our hands apart. It’s exhausting.”

  “You don’t want to test compatibility with me?” he asked, puzzled. It hadn’t occurred to him that she was being serious. He assumed all unmated females were trying to trick him into a testing.

  “No, I don’t. And I’ve already told you this, it’s not like this is new. Were you even listening to me when I told you how I felt?”

  This was unbelievable. “Let me ask you a question. If you were asked by your brother-in-law, who I assume is the Champion of your line, if you’d like to test compatibility with the Imperial Warlord of Sector One at the House of Ulmath’s testing altar on Chronos, you’d…decline?”

  “Well, I suppose if we were back on Chronos or New Earth and out of the blue your Manager or Champion approached Kayzon and asked for my hand, I mean, I wouldn’t embarrass you by saying no. But if we did test, I don’t think it would be positive, so why bother? Remember, you don’t want offspring and I do. We aren’t right for each other. And I actually have other things going on in my life that are more important than you right now.”

  She did?

  Janet of One kept walking and slapped at a bright alien bug that was trying to land on her arm. “But I have to tell you, I think it’s sad that you took yourself off the database because of what happened with your parents. You aren’t your dad. You can make your own decisions and be a different warrior. And also, I think you’d be an excellent father. I’m hoping—and I’m saying this as a friend—that you’ll someday reconsider those compatibility tests that are offered to you and maybe one day you’ll find some fabulous Xylan female who is your true mate, your Bride, and you’ll have offspring and then you can experience what it’s like to be in a family. A tight-knit family. It makes me sad that you don’t ever want for yourself, the love that flows between parents and children, and between husband and wife.”

  He stopped for a moment, stunned at this pronouncement.

  She glanced over at him. “Too much? My family always complains that I never know when to keep my thoughts to myself. You can just ignore me if I go too far. Wait, are you hungry? Is that why you’re being such a grouch? Here.” She opened her backpack and handed him a ration bar. He took it and ate it because maybe she was right. About everything.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled through his food.

  “No worries,” she said, as she brushed past him through the vegetation and took lead on the trail.

  This female was very confident—always saying what was on her mind and having the audacity to tell him the truth. He liked that. Her main objection with her situation on her home planet was that she’d felt stifled. Janet was a Gravian who had much to offer and the humans were tamping her down. She had to minimize herself to be accepted on New Earth. Leaving her planet was understandable, especially considering she was half Gravian.

  Zhoryan and his female continued their steady pace through the jungle. They both worked hard, leaving a faint trail no one could follow, not even a Margol on the range. Finally, they were both weary and scratched by bushes and branches. He looked around at the edge of a wooded ridge and found a thick tree with large, outspread branches.

  “Climb up the tree,” he ordered as the sun set. They both took care to not leave a single mark behind as they scrambled up. He crouched into a natural “seat” in the middle of the tree and leaned back. This was literally the only safe position, there was nowhere else on the tree for his female to hide alongside him. So he reached out, grabbed her by the waist and sat her on his lap.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped.

  “Stay here,” he whispered against her ear. “We are going to sit quietly and hide in this tree. No talking. Lean back onto me and sleep. There is enough fabric on our bodies to cover our skin. Keep your hands in your own lap and we’ll be fine.”

  “I can’t sit on you like this all night.”

  “You can and you
will.”

  She wiggled in his lap and whimpered. “Why are you torturing me like this? It’s not fair.”

  He could smell her arousal.

  A smile curved his lips. Arousal was something he put up with often from females who pleasure mated, and for the first time ever, he welcomed it. He was secretly happy to smell her arousal again and confirm she wasn’t as unaffected as she pretended.

  As she leaned back against him, he placed his chin on the top of her head and his arms wrapped around her tiny form, and for the first time in his life he felt mild interest at the thought of mating. Her breasts were generous, her waist small… What was it like? Why did other beings find it so pleasurable? What would this female’s core feel like underneath his claw?

  He’d never let another being this close to him, physically and mentally. For once he’d found a female who didn’t seem to care about his wealth or his power. Nor did she care one bit about his exalted position in society. Janet was basically the only female in the four sectors who seemed to like him for him. She was spending time with him, actually getting to know his likes and dislikes, his past and his present. And offering advice as a…friend? And she always told the absolute truth, no matter how biting, and he enjoyed every minute of her truth talk.

  He sat with his nose in her hair, inhaling her scent. It kept him calm. She eventually stopped moving and settled into a favored position on his lap and fell asleep in his arms.

  He thought long and hard about what she’d said earlier.

  Did he want a mate?

  Had his true barrier to a mate and offspring been his fear of becoming just like his father? There were other Xylan who chose to remove themselves from the mating database. This was not uncommon. There was no shame in remaining unmated. Yes, the unmated received smirks from those who were mated, as if you’d chosen to not join a select club. But he and the others like him were content—why change?

  If he could live a life knowing that he’d never turn into his father, would he then want a mate?

  He didn’t know.

  This was moot. He couldn’t possibly test Janet’s bare hand now, on the island. What if something astounding happened and it turned out she actually was his mate? Then he’d be running for his life while flooded with breeding hormones. And what if it turned out she was in her breeding cycle? What then?

  The most pressing matter was life versus death. They were being hunted on this island by a psychopath. First, he’d see to Janet’s safety and the safety of the other beings in captivity on this island. He would tear out Pyzon’s two hearts while they were still beating and display them to Ivan, prior to beheading the giant. And then afterwards, when he was back on his warship and thinking clearly, he’d decide what to do with the Gravian female.

  And with her scent providing him a sense of security, he pulled his female tighter into his arms and fell asleep.

  And then at sunrise he heard a noise below. Then the startled cry of a bird in flight. Janet woke and tensed. He placed a single claw over her lips, ordering her quiet.

  Something was coming through the bush, by the exact same path he’d followed last night. He watched through the shadowy network of limbs and leaves to the base of the tree. And then the general came into view below, his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him looking for any tell-tale sign of life and movement. The general dropped into a crouch, studying the area for some time, then he stood and looked into the distance, a smile curving his lips. He leaned back against the trunk of the tree and pulled out a case of black Xylan smokers, the pungent fumes wafting up into the limbs of the tree. Pyzon lazily blew smoke rings for some time, then deliberately walked away. Eventually, they could no longer hear his footsteps.

  Zhoryan blew out the breath he’d been holding.

  “Pyzon knew we were up here, didn’t he?” Janet whispered. “And he let us go so he could continue to play with us, because his game would’ve been over too fast.”

  He gave a curt nod. And for the first time he felt actual fear. The general could follow an extremely difficult trail, at night. This lazhul was a better hunter than he had first thought. One of the best.

  They slid off the tree and ran desperately through the jungle.

  Zhoryan forced himself to continue on, there was no time to waste. When before he’d brought his B game because he’d underestimated the hunter following him, now he was bringing his A game to this hunt, because this was going to take every trick he and his female could think of, together.

  Three nanco away from their original position he found a huge dead trunk that was leaning on a live tree. Perfect. “We’re going to build a Margol warrior-crusher and try to catch him off-guard.”

  “A what?”

  “Watch.”

  They each slid off their packs of food, took out their knives, and got to work. His female was quick-minded and she easily caught on to what he was trying to create. Between the two of them they were quickly finished and they threw themselves down behind a fallen log, a hundred nanco away.

  They did not have to wait long.

  General Pyzon followed their trail with the sureness of a highly trained Gorga. He so intently checked each broken twig, bent blade of grass and each mark in the dirt, that he did not see their trap until he was nearly upon it. His foot touched the limb that was the trigger, but even as he sensed the trap catching, he leaped back with the agility of the famed wags of Chronos. Zhoryan had never seen a warrior that large move that fast. But Pyzon was still struck a glancing blow by the dead log that had been balancing on the live tree. If he hadn’t moved, he would’ve been caught dead on by the log and killed, but instead his shoulder was injured. He staggered but didn’t fall, managing to keep a grip on his blaster. Pyzon stood, rubbing his shoulder, inhaling deep breaths.

  A growl rumbled in Janet’s throat. “That asshole is upgrading his weapons because he’s scared of you.”

  “Scared of us,” Zhoryan gritted. “I told Pyzon you were human, and neither of us mentioned you were also part Gravian. He doesn’t know of your strength and stamina. Keeping this from him is our edge in this game.”

  “Zhoryan,” the general called out, “if you can hear me, I want you to know I congratulate you. That was good, you almost got me. That was smart, using a Margol warrior-crusher. Luckily, I too have hunted with the Margol in the old ways. I am leaving now to tend to my wound. But I will be back tomorrow to finish the game. Thank you, I am finding this a challenging sport.”

  11

  Running. It was all they seemed to be doing lately. Running and hiding.

  And making traps.

  And trying to fucking stay alive.

  Janet was feeling pretty darn tired. Not that she’d let Zhoryan know.

  After their near-death experience with General Pyzon at the tree, and then with that Malay warrior-crusher trap, they’d anxiously charted through the bush throughout the rest of the day, trying to catch some sort of lead while the general was away tending his wound.

  Dusk came and they began trekking through a section of the island that was getting ranker by the minute. Huge, bright alien bugs began buzzing around and biting their exposed skin. The ground grew softer and their boots began to sink into ooze. It was pretty terrible.

  “Death Swamp,” Zhoryan said, stating the obvious.

  Janet stared at the soft earth around them, memories resurfacing of a former trek she’d taken back home. “I have an idea,” she said. “How about this time we dig a Curmese Ligan trap?”

  “A what?”

  “Here, let me show you.” Janet stepped back from the quicksand a dozen nanco or so, and squatted to the ground. She picked up a stick and sketched into the sand a crude outline of the type of trap she was talking about. “See, we dig here and then we can cut and sharpen the end of those saplings over there and put them pointing up inside the bottom of the pit. Then we cover it and it’s a trap that he could step onto and fall in. This is originally Curmese, but we used this on New Earth to catch
Yorbu. I’ve helped make this type of trap several times.”

  “You hunt?” he asked. “Why haven’t you mentioned this before?”

  “I’m not a hunter. I like to go out and study and document the plants and animals of my home planet, sort of an amateur biologist, but the humans I was allowed to go with were on a hunting expedition. The wild lands on my planet are pretty inhospitable and going with experienced hunters was the only way I could get out and explore nature and remain safe.”

  He nodded. “I like this trap, it’s similar to one I’ve made before. Let’s get started.”

  And then Janet watched in awe as a Xylan warrior, in peak physical condition, dug like a prehistoric beast. She tried to dig too with her bare hands and any branches she was able to fashion into tools, but this was comical next to the ability of the massively strong male with his huge, sharp claws. Dirt flew over his head and in no time the sweaty brute had dug a pit he could stand inside. In fact, by then she’d completely given up and was busy sharpening the hard saplings he’d found into pointed stakes. He planted the stakes into the bottom of the pit with the points sticking up while she wove a netting of weeds and branches. Zhoryan pulled this over the top of their trap, and suddenly it was complete.

  Then, filthy and covered with sweat, they both crouched behind a lightning-charred tree and waited.

  She could smell the general’s cigarette in the breeze before she saw him. And actually, from their vantage point, they couldn’t see him at all, just anxiously listened to the rapid pounding of feet.

  Would it work?

  She wanted to grab Zhoryan’s hand, but instead clutched the fabric of his shirt, biting her lips. Beside her, Zhoryan was holding his breath, tense as stone.

  And then they heard the cracking of netting and a sharp scream of pain.

  Oh wow.

  Zhoryan leapt up, only to immediately sit back down.

  Oh shit. This couldn’t be good.