by B R Flores
Early next morning, family and friends gathered around Phera to congratulate her and Azha on their informal Owari. In the center of the village, Cavern Sergeants were shouting orders to the soldiers who were bustling in preparation to depart. For one last hurrah, they circled in formation above Kismet Ebb Village before disappearing into the forest, homeward bound.
Then, out of nowhere, stood a Ryquat.
Azha froze, then slowly reached out to grab Phera’s hand. He pulled her back as he stepped forward to shield her from the monster. Afraid that talking out loud would provoke the Ryquat, he whispered through his teeth, “Phera go, tell everyone to hide underground… soldiers too. If I die, gather everyone who is willing and travel to Earth. More Quizans must merge to survive.”
Azha tried not to show fear, but he could not control his trembling. Phera’s fingers slipped from Azha’s hand and she shuffled backwards taking one small step at a time. Unable to control his stripes, they flashed red, but he dared not flinch until Phera was safe. Though scared to death, Phera foolishly hesitated and gazed up at the sleek, black monster. The Ryquat vanished before Azha’s eyes and Phera let out a blood-curdling scream behind him. He spun around praying that she was still alive.
The monster had reappeared between them and was pointing his finger at Phera while glaring back at him. Slowly, the monster raised his arm towards the sky, forcing Phera to float up. It was as if she was attached to an invisible restraint under his control. Desperate to escape she struggled, making whatever was holding her squeeze tighter and cause more pain. Her body stiffened, and she grimaced in agony, unable to cry out.
The Ryquat’s eyes glowed red and he had no expression, no emotions, nothing that Azha could read. The monster made a fist forcing Phera’s spine to arch backwards into a contorted, gruesome position. Phera was dying, and Azha didn’t know how to stop the Ryquat. Defeated, Azha dropped to his knees.
“I beg you, do not kill her.”
The vile Ryquat lowered its arm allowing Phera’s body to descend until her feet touched the ground. Azha looked upon death’s face and glaring back at him was pure evil.
“Rise Trekachaw.”
Phera was unable to move, but for now she wasn’t his target. Believing this was his one and only chance, Azha stood up gradually, trying not to agitate the Ryquat. Did he hear the Ryquat correctly? Had he said, rise Trekachaw? If so, maybe there was a chance for him to concede and save the village.
“I am Azha, we call you Ryquat. Her name is Phera. If you want to kill, choose me. I give myself willingly.”
The Ryquat scoffed, “If I wished to kill you or your female, you’d already be dead.”
He opened his fist and allowed Phera to go free. Azha heard correctly. The monster could speak Quizan.
“I do not want your female, I want you. The Quizans in the trees will not have long after we’re gone. Gystfins are waiting to attack this village.”
Phera screamed, “Take me.”
The shiny black Ryquat cocked his head and his red eyes glared. Clearly, he was irritated at her brazen defiance. “If the female challenges me again, I will not be so gracious.”
Azha yelled, “Go Phera, you’re going to get us both killed.”
Phera ran, hating herself for leaving Azha alone to die. Azha kept an eye on her until he could no longer see her. With Phera safe, Azha tested the Ryquat’s resolve. “Now what?”
The Ryquat relaxed his stance and his demeanor completely changed. “Don’t be so eager to die. I am Victis from planet Zaurak. You, on the other hand, are unfamiliar to me. However, I’ve been observing you for some time now and find you intriguing. My assignment was to investigate a rumor of an indigenous species being hunted to extinction and to sterilize you upon contact. That would have been a shame. You are quite impressive. Your abilities are nothing like I’ve ever seen or heard of. Did you really coalesce with a Human? You are worthy of further observation. I choose not to sterilize you… not until I know more. Maybe never,” the Ryquat laughed.
Azha hoped the Ryquat’s twisted laugh meant the same thing as a Human’s joke told in poor taste. Taking a big risk, Azha boldly suggested the Ryquat leave Palatu. It appeared as if the alien may have grinned.
“No, I won’t leave. You will answer my questions, or I’ll sterilize you. I watched you spacejack the only Gystfin Cargo Ship within thirty light-years of here, so don’t deny it. What I want to know is where you concealed it? Oh, and the Gystfin shuttle you hid in the cave, we’re flying it to my battleship.”
Azha agreed, considering the alternative. He was thankful to be alive and to have the village and Phera in one piece. Ryquat Victis abruptly ended the conversation, “It’s time to go, Trekachaw.”
The Ryquat closely shadowed Azha on the way to the cave. Landing inside, Azha thought of different ways to kill the Ryquat. But since he didn’t know the alien’s weaknesses, he’d have to wait. Grudgingly, he escorted the arrogant alien behind the crag and forfeited his shuttle.
On the flight up to the battleship, Azha found himself feeling disturbingly relaxed and intrigued by Victis. That is, until they were together for a while. The Ryquat never stopped talking. Long winded and loud, he explained everything at least three times. Boasting even louder, he elaborated on how a Gystfin Commander demanded a conflux to bellyache about a new species called Trekachaw. Making weird facial expressions, Victis parroted the Commander, ‘The Trekachaw should be exterminated by Ryquats before its powers become too strong.’ He rambled on how the Commander accused the Trekachaw of murdering hundreds of Gystfins with no provocation. Smiling he paused, “We both know that’s not true.” Victis took a deep breath and pointed out a portal window, “Behold, my battleship. Isn’t she magnificent?”
Indeed, the massive ship was spectacular, stretching as far as the eye could see. Nothing in the Universe could be more intimidating than this iron predator. Fascinated, Azha watched an entire section of the ship’s hull disappear seconds before Victis flew the tiny craft onto a raised docking platform. Like magic, the side of the battleship re-appeared. Victis flipped several switches, then ran his hand across a circuit board causing the shuttle to power down. Without missing a beat, he disconnected the harness strap, pushed his chair back and stood up from the navigation station.
“Feels good to be back on board. Can’t wait to get out of this suit.”
What? He assumed Ryquats were impervious evil with red eyes and black as a raven. It never dawned on him that the Ryquat was wearing a spacesuit. An unexpected blast of oxygen filled the shuttle and what came next rattled Azha even more. Victis pulled a tag from the side of his head and peeled back a portion of his skin. Underneath was a second face, a Human face. The Ryquat felt around under his chin until he found another longer tag that concealed a small plastic device with a blinking beam of light. He aimed the device toward his body, then placed his right thumb over the light. In an instant, the spacesuit liquefied and was sucked-up into the device. Standing before Azha was a lean, muscular, stark-naked Human.
Was Victis the Ryquat a Human? Whatever he was stomped briskly down the ramp, then across a platform to a row of metal lockers adjacent to plastic benches and open showers. Azha peeked out the hatch door and looked back and forth across the docking bay to see if anyone else was there. As far as he could tell, there were no other Ryquats. Victis continued to rant and joke about something while opening a locker. Without taking a breath between stories, he pulled out a uniform, shoes, and a blue duffel bag. Then, he slammed shut the locker-door and disappeared behind a shower curtain. His constant chatter bounced off the open girders, creating an amplified echo, “Every single time… this water is as cold as a Crozin.”
After that, Azha couldn’t understand a thing he was saying. Victis alternated between mumbling loudly or singing in the shower. Either way, he sounded terrible.
The sweet oxygen inside the ship reminded him of Cole’s life. Thoughts flooded his mind with vivid, Human memories and cherished, forgotten dreams
. He missed Earth with all her imperfections and his simple life. Azha fought to suppress those emotions and concentrated on resisting his rebellious Human-half. Of course, none of this mattered if the Ryquat decided to kill him. Azha peeked out the door to see if there were any more Ryquats. The coast was clear… now was as good as time as any to move. Covertly he zigzagged down the ramp and froze at the bottom for a second, then tiptoed over to the showers and sat down on a bench.
Victis sang, “Can you hear me now?”
“Yes, I can hear you. Are you the only Ryquat on this ship?” Azha asked.
Victis paused… blew his nose at least five or six times in the shower and then crowed, “Do you really think I’m the only Ryquat on this enormous battleship?”
Azha mumbled, “What a jack-ass,” wishing he could take it back the moment he said it. “Did you hear me?”
“Yesss.” In a drawn-out snide voice.
“Do you know what a jack-ass is?” asked Azha.
Victis stepped out from behind the curtain, dripping-wet with a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Ah, yes, foul mouth Trekachaw. I know what jack-ass means. I’ll give you this one. Check your mouth or you’ll regret it, agreed?”
Azha agreed. Victis began singing off-tune again while vigorously drying off with a towel. He stopped singing and tossed the towel on the shower floor. He opened his duffel bag and dug through it as he explained, “There’s one hundred and thirty-three Ryquats on board. Now, I have a question. Do you remember being Human?”
Ryquat Victis was nothing like Azha had envisioned, and he felt comfortable on the ship. Maybe too comfortable. That could be a huge mistake.
“Yes and no. When I’m on Palatu, I’m more Quizan. It seems when I absorb oxygen, I’m more Human. Being on your ship and around you even more so.”
“Well, that could explain why you smell. On Palatu you didn’t have body odor, here you’re starting to stink like a Crozin. Just so there’s no misunderstanding, that’s not a compliment. If you don’t want to take an old-fashioned shower, over there’s a Yeager. It’s that box thing next to the showers. Step inside and push the blue button. You’ll feel a burst of warm steam. After a red light goes off, you’re clean. Either one will do the trick, I’ll wait for you.”
“No thank you. All I need to do is turn into energy, then morph back into body form to clean myself,” replied Azha.
“Do it. You stink,” Victis said disgusted.
Azha flashed into energy and back into body form. Victis rudely invaded his space to perform a sniff test.
“That worked. Might want to do that more often up here,” suggested Victis.
“Since you’re being so judgmental, pick up your towel. On Earth we call people like you, slobs,” countered Azha.
“On my ship and Zaurak we have robots for that. But then, you wouldn’t know this because you’re primitive. See those things flying towards us? That’s one of many robots we have on ship, so don’t break it.”
Victis changed the conversation asking about a Human merge. He teasingly admitted how he followed Azha to the Gystfins cargo ship. Not being able to get a word in edge wise, Azha began talking over him, “You’ve been watching me?”
“Of course. I’ve been observing and evaluating your abilities and intelligence. Why were you staring at your reflection on the navigation deck?” Victis asked.
“How long have you been watching me?” Azha questioned stunned by his bluntness.
“For a while. Since before you killed the first Gystfin,” replied Victis.
Outraged, Azha insisted, “What else did you watch me do?”
“Well, I observed you and Phera at the cupola pod having a lot of Quizan energy sex. You must have inherited that ability from the Human. If you fight as good as you Fu… Excuse me, I try not to use profanity,” replied Victis.
Disgusted, Azha closed his eyes. But Victis didn’t notice. Most likely he didn’t care. Victis continued to ramble on about how genetically a Trekachaw and Quizan could not create a new life. However, a male and female Trekachaw could.
Victis proudly confessed, “I have confirmed my theory. One night while you and Phera were sleeping in the cupola pod, I removed your DNA for testing. You heard me and sat up. I thought for sure you saw me. Lucky for you, you didn’t look behind you. If you had, I probably would’ve been forced to kill you and Phera.”
Victis just kept on talking while Azha sat in silence.
“I think more Quizans should coalesce with Humans… consider the possibilities. My test results confirmed you’ll live a minimum of five-hundred earth years. Maybe longer, who knows.”
Azha stripes were red with the tips turning purple.
“Victis, please stop talking,” demanded Azha.
Even though he dreaded whatever else the brash pervert might spew, Azha asked another question. “Why did you kill thousands of Quizans?”
Victis stopped talking. Perhaps that question was the wrong one to ask. For all he knew the Ryquat was going to kill him right now, right here. Should’ve kept his mouth shut.
Victis finished dressing himself without saying a word and sat down on the bench opposite Azha. The Ryquat seemed uncomfortable. This time, Victis spoke in earnest and with compassion, thus revealing yet another side of the complicated alien.
“You deserve an explanation. I’ve never killed or harmed a Quizan. It all started about ten years ago when one Ryquat Captain was assigned to Palatu. He reported the Quizan loss was minimal and how Gystfins benefited from the grey-death energy. Production increased, costs were significantly reduced, and life support apparatuses were eliminated, which minimized the use of crude naphtha accelerants. In fact, his reports claimed the Gystfins were reducing a severely over-populated planet of Quizans. My mission was to investigate a rumor that Gystfins were hunting an indigenous species to extinction. If so, I was to replace the Captain and oversee the ongoing mining operations. During my initial investigation, I discovered a worst-case scenario. The Captain was addicted to grey-death energy and needed frequent doses to maintain a functional level. If not, his withdrawals were excruciatingly painful. He was immediately detained and transported to Zaurak. Last I heard, he’s in a care facility still suffering from painful withdrawals and may have irreversible brain damage.”
Azha snarled, “You condoned Gystfins killing Quizans because they were more productive after sucking out our grey-death energy?”
“Before, yes. Now, no. Viceroy Ryquats agreed with the Gystfins that the benefits outweighed Quizan loss.”
Azha was infuriated by the narcissistic Ryquats. They condoned the slaughter of innocent Quizans with no shame, and for what… Rocks? Victis was just as guilty as the vicious Gystfins and bad Ryquats.
“Why are your stripes bright purple?” Victis stood up and stepped backwards over the bench to have a barrier between him and Azha.
‘Does he realize how damn offensive he is to me? Hmm, he’s afraid without that suit. I could kill him and escape. If I did, the Ryquats would seek revenge.’
Azha caught himself hissing and moving towards Victis, “My wife, Rodia, was killed by a Gystfin. She was innocent, kind, and giving. Do you have any idea the pain and suffering you’ve caused?”
Ready to pounce, Azha’s eyes glowed yellow and his stripes blazed purple. Victis glanced in the direction of his suit.
“Azha sit down. I’m sorry about Rodia and for all the Quizans, but I had nothing to do with that. Any other Ryquat would have sterilized you at the Gystfins request, but I chose not to. Of course, I understand why you’re angry, and you have every right to hate us. Think about what I can offer before you do something you’ll regret. Calm down and we will talk about the future, not the past. I will try to protect you and the Quizans from now on.”
Considering the consequences if he did what he wanted to do, Azha sat down on the bench. Victis sat on the bench after Azha’s stripes faded from purple, to red, then to orange.
“Not to change the subj
ect, but I find your stripes intriguing. I’m pretty sure red or purple means you’re angry or ready to fight. What do the other colors mean?” Victis asked.
With what just happened, Azha couldn’t believe the Ryquat’s flippant question. Maybe he could trade information with the dumb-shit.
“I’ll tell you what my colors mean if I can return to Palatu,” replied Azha.
Curious to hear what the Trekachaw had to say, Victis would’ve agreed to almost anything.
“You’re right, red is anger, or it can mean fear. Purple is rage or attack. Quizans have the same emotional colors, though somewhat less vibrant than mine. Right now, I am orange because I’ve calmed myself. When my stripes are green, I’m happy or excited. Phera told me when I sleep my stripes are yellow.”
“She’s right, your stripes are yellow when you sleep.” Victis interrupted.
Azha’s eyes narrowed, “Promise not to spy on me anymore.”
Victis extended his arm out, “Fair enough, let’s shake on it. I’ll never spy on you again assuming we stay friendly.”
If memory served, this was a Human tradition performed to solidify a peace offering. Silly as it may have seemed, he reached out and shook Victis’s hand.
“If you’re finished, I’ll continue,” said Azha.
“Please do,” replied Victis.
“Pale or tan is sad or worried. Dark blue means ill, sick, or gravely injured, and grey is dying or dead. White is the most common color while flying or when we bond. Humans would call white bonding casual sex. Silver is the creation of a new baby quiey, or when I merged with Cole. That’s it, can I go now?”