Come on, Aela.
“If we were attacked,” began the Captain from across the room. I looked up from the screen. “Then why haven’t they fired again?”
“Good question,” I said. There was a logical answer, but it wasn’t one they were going to like. The less they knew, the safer everyone was; emphasis on everyone. “Can the ship land safely?”
“We hope,” said the Captain, eyes on the observatory window as the muddy-wash of Ophal-II’s surface expanded before us. “It’ll be a rough landing with only one stabilizer.”
I nodded solemnly, slipping from the communications desk and heading for the bridge exit. The CO was broadcasting an announcement to the rest of the ship that they were making an emergency landing due to mechanical issues from debris. I understood the reason for deception.
All passengers return to your cabins, ordered the speakers. Some turbulence is expected.
***
Close the door.
Ziranel’s tone had stayed even through the command, but the way his eyes narrowed and upper-lip curled sent me cowering to the other side of the room. It was a stark reminder that we weren’t the same. There was something behind that lofty arrogance and one-sided smile; something wild, like a reva.
Ever since he’d left I’d sat huddled on the bed, clutching my Kenlila idol so hard that my fingers were cramped. My pulse beat fiercely, like thunder in my ears. All the while my thoughts spiraled into scenarios where the ship exploded or Ziranel never came back. The rumble below the bed didn’t make me feel any better. When the air shifted and I was swung forward, the bed sliding toward the center of the room, I sobbed and shielded my head in preparation for the worst.
Instead, an announcement came from the porous circular-box. It was too quick to catch, but I think it said something about staying in the cabins. Not a second later, as I stared at the ceiling with tear-stained cheeks, a sudden bang at the door made me jump.
“Let me in,” said Ziranel, his voice muffled through the metal frame.
Relief rushed through me, but was quickly replaced by chagrin. I was furious at how he’d treated me. How he’d scared me. I wiped my face as I rushed to the door, hitting the lock-release button that he’d shown me.
We locked eyes, and he winced. “If looks could kill.”
“You left me.”
“I’m back, aren’t I?”
The nerve of him. He wasn’t sorry at all. “What if you died?”
Ziranel raised an eyebrow. I’d never seen this gesture before, so I didn’t particularly know what it meant. “I won’t, but thank you for your concern.”
Without another word he pushed by me, sealing the door shut. He paced the small confines of our room, stopping to glance out the window. I noticed then that it was becoming brighter outside, casting light across his face, illuminating the worry in his expression that he tried desperately to conceal. My stomach began to twist.
“Ziranel, what is happening?”
“Call me Zira,” he snapped.
I set my jaw, mustering up any and all courage left inside of me. “Zira, what is happening? I demand to know.”
“Your Highness,” he muttered, eyes never leaving the window, “we’re making an emergency landing. One of our engines is damaged.”
“An emergency landing where?”
“Ophal-II.”
“The place you said wasn’t safe?”
“Yes, but it’s safer now than—”
He was cut short when the room jolted. The light from the window grew so bright that it was blinding. The little desk flew across the room, narrowly missing Zira by an inch. The bed had lifted several feet off the ground, slamming down again with a deafening bang. A roaring rattled the walls, becoming louder with each passing second. The air tried to crush my head, and my ears popped. It felt like I was underwater.
I screamed, and Zira snatched me up and huddled us into a corner. His grip was tight, protective, and I stilled in his arms. The furniture shook with fierce vibration, red and orange light flashing like beacons from the window. He soothingly murmured something about turbulence, but I didn’t know what that was. In the chaos, the Kenlila idol slipped from my hand, rolling across the floor.
I squirmed out of his grip, crawling for it. In that moment I truly believed it was the only thing keeping me alive. I heard Zira shout at me to come back, and as I reached desperately for my lifeline, I felt a yank on my leg.
And then the window shattered.
The lights went out.
I heard something explode.
My screams were drowned out by violent torrents of wind.
O
“SHE’S MY DAUGHTER,” I HEAR MY father say in a whisper. The whisper is sharp, as if he means to say it in an angered scream. But I am too young to realize the implication. Too young to do anything but sit outside the citadel kitchen and play with a wooden toy. The toy’s image is blurred—some kind of animal, maybe a reva or dongva.
Antlers.
Yes, a dongva.
“But your wife,” I hear Akani plead. Her voice is lighter here, less graveled by age. “The mainlanders warned us of this. They want all of the children manifesting the signs. That is our agreement.”
“And they can have every child, except for mine. She is the only thing that I have left.”
“Lanit, please—”
The dongva has wheels attached to its feet. I roll it back and forth across the floor, humming a hymn.
“Akani, you will say and do nothing. That is my order.”
“She can’t be Dezidko,” says Akani, but her voice wavers in defeat. “She is a bad omen; the tribecouncil will know. She’s already plagued her mother, and what if she does the same to you?”
“Then it is the Twin Gods’ will.”
My dongva rolls past the door and into the middle of the kitchen floor. My father and Akani turn, startled, having not realized I am there. Akani takes the toy and picks me up, cooing gently, telling me it’s time for afternoon meal. I look at my father, waving the toy at him.
He smiles, but it never reaches his eyes.
VIII
ATCA_QRY_09b.G64
Ophal System Confederacy Records
Ophal-III, 105th Cycle
Voice recording; language Fevarian, dialect Uoso
Exago-Ku, Chief Excavator
OSC Surveyor Team
Something is wrong with the flora on O-3’s 3rd moon. We lost two of our crew members during a survey of the midlateral forests after taking samples of bark. The trees here look like O-3’s, categorized in the bio-guide as comparable species, but after burning wood for resources the first night, two members fell ill. They were dead by mid-morning of fever and blisters. Growths appeared to have spanned their limbs. We have taken a sample to study. I can recall strange bursts of luminescence as the logs burned last night. It looked like light-insects trying to escape the flames. That’s what we thought, anyway. We had to burn the bodies in case they were infectious. Two more crew members fell ill this evening.
I am requesting Headquarters’ advisory on this. I am asking permission to either evacuate or send more crew with health-advisory suits. Please advise.
***
WHEN I WOKE, I COULDN’T MOVE. My body felt leaden and there was a strange buzzing in my ears. Warm light shined on my face and distant voices took to panicked discussions. I wanted to stay there in the warm, safe glow; I was so tired, and rolled to my side. My arm pressed against something jagged and cool, and I thumbed the smooth wooden contours of the idol clutched in my hand. It all came back, then.
The explosion.
The fiery light in the cabin.
The shattered window and blasts of wind.
Zira.
I was not in my bed.
That thought jolted me fully awake, the weight of sleep no longer holding me down. I sat up, cringing as a fresh twinge of pain hit my gut, rippling through my lower back. There was something wet between my thighs. Confused, I looked down at my lap
and saw a blossoming stain of black across my dress. With a trembling hand I hiked up the hem and felt between my legs. My fingers returned glistening with blood.
No, not now. Garanthe, help me.
I sat scattered amid wreckage of the cabin. Pieces of the wall had been peeled away like giant claw marks, revealing pockets of landscape beyond the ship. The light was hazy red, as was the sand that covered the landscape. Glittering particles flitted within the beams of light piercing through the punctured wall. The voices I’d heard were outside. Crew members, survivors.
Zira. Where was Zira?
I thought of calling out, but felt the heat of shame if he’d found me like this, in first-bleed. Instead I sat there, waiting for the inevitable, looking to my satchel trying to decide if I should change and risk someone coming in while doing so. All I’d done was reach for it when Zira appeared through one of the holes in the wall, his face streaked with dirt, hair peppered with sand. His eyes glowed in the shadow of the cabin.
I snatched the satchel and placed it over my lap, staring up at him like a frightened animal.
He took one look behind him through the hole and then reached for the satchel. “Come on, we’ve got to go.”
I held it firm against my lap. He seemed confused by my resistance. “No, I can’t.”
“Are you hurt?” he demanded, kneeling in front of me.
“I—”
He sniffed the air, and then his eyes trailed down toward my lap. “You’re bleeding.”
“No, I—”
Zira yanked the satchel off my lap. I looked away, closing my eyes. Seconds passed. When I looked back at him, he was rummaging through my satchel. Then, he tossed me a clean tunic.
“Change, hurry.” He retreated toward the exposed wall and turned his back.
Trembling, I did so. I changed in record time and wadded up the dirty one. He turned back around, extending a hand.
“Give that to me,” he ordered. “Do you wear undergarments?”
I didn’t even know what that was. My confusion served as answer enough. He tore my soiled tunic into strips. “Lift up your dress.”
I froze. “What?”
Zira seemed annoyed by my apprehension. “We’re in a potential life-threatening situation, and you’re worried about your dignity? I’m thousands of years old; do you think I’ve never seen menstruation before?”
Thousands of years old. That sentence circled my mind.
“Lift up your dress,” he said again, his tone indicating that there was no more room for debate.
I did with a wince. The unsightliness of congealing blood marking my inner thighs didn’t rattle him. All he did was tie the shreds of tunic between my legs and around my hips, creating what looked like a ligar, worn by blademasters and soldiers that trained in the blistering heat. At home Akani would have given me a funnel of avaseed twine dipped in healing oil to collect the blood and soothe the aches. But this wasn’t home; I would never be home again. I’d gotten my first-bleed on a ruined ship, in front of a man I’d known for two days.
When done, he threw the remains of my soiled tunic back in the satchel. “We’ll need to make a new one in a few hours.”
I let my dress fall, staring back at him in reverence. “I… thank you.”
Zira disregarded my gratitude and threw the satchel at me. I caught it, surprised. “Head to the kitchen and grab any and all non-perishable food items you can stuff in there.”
“What about you?”
“I’m going to raid the medical wing. I’ll meet you back here.”
***
The sweep through the medical wing took only a minute. I’d stuffed my pockets full of antibiotics, analgesics, narcotics and vitamin tablets before making my way back to the cabin. I hadn’t expected Laith to be there yet, and she wasn’t. I slipped through the gash in the cabin wall, landing ankle deep in sand.
My eyes rose to the pillar of black smoke that pierced the muddy horizon, coming from the damaged engine cylinder. Within that torpor were lethal levels of radioactive isotopes, its gamma rays wriggling from the spool in ultraviolet sparks. The radiation was a lesser danger, sadly. The immediate threat lay with the smoke.
The Captain hailed me from the front of the ship. He stood with the crew and a group of passengers—much less than the manifest had shown. Behind the ship a trail of wreckage spanned for miles. I wondered how much of it was made of bodies. Unfortunate.
I waved, acting calmly, even though I wanted nothing more than to wring his neck and rupture his skull against the cockpit exterior. I trudged through the sand toward him, futilely wiping the dust from my jacket sleeves.
“Glad you made it,” he said once I was within ear’s reach. “We’re radioing headquarters for a rescue pick-up.”
“Good,” was all I said, scanning the surroundings.
“Is the girl safe?”
“She is. Just a bit shaken up. I’ll go and get her.”
The Captain nodded, and with that I turned and headed back toward the cabin exterior, the neutrality of my expression darkening into one of grim acceptance.
Laith was about to jump out when I appeared in front of her. She froze, studying my face. We were different species, but somehow she was very skilled at reading facial cues. “What is it?” she asked.
“Not this way,” I said, nodding in gesture for her to back up. She did, and I hopped inside.
“I heard voices,” she said as I opened the cabin door and stepped into the hall. “Were those the other passengers?”
“Yes.”
“Shouldn’t…” Laith paused, looking confusedly toward the gash. “Shouldn’t we join them?”
“No.”
“But—”
“They’re dead.” I looked at the satchel. “Did you get enough supplies?”
“As much as I could carry, like you said. I wasn’t sure what kind of food you preferred, sorry.”
I smirked. “It’s not for me. Come on, we’re leaving.”
I took a few steps down the hall, but paused when I didn’t hear Laith. Again I turned, trying to keep the impatience from boiling over. “Are you coming?”
“What do you mean we’re leaving?” she asked, casting a nervous glance back inside the cabin.
I threw up my hands, scoffing in disbelief. “I don’t know how much clearer I can be.”
“But won’t the crew radio for help? Won’t we be rescued?”
It was then when I conceded to the fact that Laith would never be the ‘blindly follow orders’ type. It was a shame, too. She was an innocent girl, and I’d wanted nothing more than to shield her from the grim reality of our situation. Alas.
“Do you find it a coincidence that we were hit? The very ship you were traveling on? Which so happened to be flying over this planet?”
Laith said nothing, but her jaw set. I could practically hear the gears turning in her head.
“Whoever hit us didn’t intend to kill us, or they would have fired more than once. They intended for us to land here. I don’t particularly want to stick around to find out why. Do you?”
Her eyes trailed toward the floor. She understood now. “No.”
“Smart girl,” I said in near-whisper, heading down the corridor once more. This time her footsteps echoed with mine.
Surely there was another hole somewhere. I switched my vision to the IR spectrum, making sure to steer clear of anyone else. I pitied the person unfortunate enough to catch us sneaking off.
The center hall had another shell-perforation large enough for us to slip through. We landed outside the ship, on the opposite side of the passengers and crew. Once out I swept Laith over my shoulder and sprinted up the dunes, careful not to go more than medium speed or else the pressure would crush her lesser frame. Compared to me she was a paper doll, needing to be handled gently. Even with the care I took, my speed caused her to shriek. Luckily we were far enough away that no one could have heard her.
On a sandy incline that overlooked the wreckage f
rom several miles away, I set her down and we crouched, peering over the dunes. Laith kept inquiring what we were doing and I kept withholding an answer, waiting for the inevitable.
The inevitable came about an hour later as the sun fell and the muddy sky switched to an ugly bruise. Four pairs of fluorescent headlights pierced the dusk, moving into the crash site in a horizontal line. They’d come from somewhere west—rudimentary vehicles with loud, chugging engines that were solar powered, as I couldn’t see any exhaust fumes. Perhaps the fuel was clean, but judging by the look of this place it was doubtful.
The Captain stupidly hailed them down, arms waving as more than a dozen figures piled out of the vehicles, leaving the headlights on. They walked toward the Captain and the rest of the passengers huddled outside the front of the ship.
And then I looked at Laith. She’d stopped demanding answers by now and watched on with confusion. As the first sound of gunfire erupted with a crack, she covered her mouth and tears welled in her eyes. More gunfire cascaded into screams, and I knew she’d seen enough. We both had.
I yanked her up, telling her firmly that we had to go. Laith didn’t resist; she didn’t even speak. The only sound now was our feet as we ran across the dunes, away from the cracks of bullets and dying screams. A little while later the pillar of smoke darkened. They had set fire to the ship, and the scent of burning flesh barely detectable to my senses confirmed that there were no survivors.
This contract was just getting better and better.
IX
ATCA_QRY_09b.G64
Ophal System Confederacy Records
Ophal-III, 130th Cycle
Voice recording; language Fevarian, dialect Uoso
Thalmi-Oka, Chief Medical Examiner
OSC Clinical Syndicate
I’ve just been informed the O-3 militia has orders to burn the abdeakka forest in retaliation of the indigenous attacks on our colonies. Is this true? If so, please reconsider. The abdeakka trees release spores in the presence of heat, which travel through the air. Burning the entire forest will result in genocide of the Svissan peoples and could potentially harm the colonies if the wind changes.
Covenants: Elegy (Hymn of the Multiverse Book 8) Page 6