by Loki Renard
There’s just one problem.
I’m bored.
I shouldn’t be, but I am. I always thought that being free would mean being able to do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, but there are so many restrictions on this planet. John refuses to let us go down to the town we can see in the distance; he says we’re both too alien to integrate. And there's only so many times you can collect slugs and make them spell out rude words before they slime away, leaving a trail in the shape of a curse.
John emerges from the shuttle. We haven’t been sleeping in the house. We took one look at it and decided to hide the ship with wood and panels from it instead of moving into it. The shuttle is much more comfortable, and can draw energy from the sun to power the replicator to low levels. We’re still left with consuming slugs though.
This life does not suit John at all. I haven’t seen his blades in over a week. They used to flash and pop almost every other sentence, but that was probably because we were always in danger and here the only danger we’re really in is the danger of dying of boredom.
John
I abandoned revenge. I stopped trying to get my own back against an unfair universe and instead I made a little home with the woman I love. Now I am something almost no scythkin has ever been: happy.
At least, I’m assuming this is what happiness is. A sort of one-day-running-into-the-next, no danger, no fear, just existing, consuming, excreting, loving. This is happiness, isn’t it?
A shadow passes overhead and the happiness just drains right out of me, as if someone found a plug between my toes and yanked it out.
I know the shape of that shadow.
I know what it means.
Death is coming on scythkin wings.
“Go inside,” I tell Itch.
“Uh. No. Why?”
I still have not managed to gain her obedience. I think it is likely I never will. She is resistant to discipline. She loves being spanked. If I were to take a leather lash to her right now, she would orgasm before a dozen strokes were delivered.
“Go. Inside!” I snarl in my most fearsome voice, letting my blades flare out all at once like an angry peacock made of knives, as she has described me.
“No! What’s wrong!?”
It soon becomes apparent what is wrong without the need for me to explain, as a very large, very intimidating ship with a great many sharp protrusions sinks out of the sky.
I feel a pang of homesickness. I miss the days when I had a ship like that, when our arrival would strike terror into those below. They were good days. Now I am on the other side of the ship, and likely about to die. Scythkin do not make contact for social reasons. They come to destroy.
“Never mind,” I tell Itch. “It doesn’t matter anyway. It is too late.”
“That is a cool ship,” she says ignoring my dire warning. “Wow. Super cool.”
That is the kind of ship I would have purchased if I hadn’t had to buy her freedom.
She turns to me with a wide smile. “I bet you wish you’d left me behind now, huh. You could have had something shiny like that.”
“I do not wish I’d left you behind. I wish I had whipped your behind harder and longer so you would listen to me when I tell you to go inside. What comes out of that ship isn’t going to be friendly. It’s not going to come out here with a box of chocolates and a voucher for a free massage. When that ship opens, what comes out of it will be pure death.”
“Eh,” she shrugs. “I like pure death.”
I do not have time to impress how much of a bad idea it is for her to be in the way because the ship has landed in a cloud of dust. I am fully ready to defend Itch, and to slay those who were foolish enough to come and enter into battle with me.
My world is about to end in a haze of blood and blades. I was not ready for it to end today but I suppose one day is as good as another. I at least had the chance to spend a few incredible weeks with Itch before the end. I always knew our time would be limited. It was too good to be true, the long nights making love, the even longer days trying to work out a way to make slugs palatable. I have lived a lifetime in the short time we have had together, and as the ship opens up and the gangway starts to descend toward the ground, I know I am going to die happy.
“Hello!”
A cheerful voice rings out. I can’t see the speaker. He appears to be hiding behind the pillar at the top of his own gangway. This is not how I thought this would go. I thought we would be instantly overrun by a horde of scythkin warriors.
“Hello!” Itch shouts back. I have to reach out to stop her from going closer. This could be an elaborate ruse to lure her into their ship.
“Hi!” The voice calls back. It does seem to belong to a scythkin, but the behavior is very un-scythkin.
“Hello!” Itch calls out again.
This could go on forever, and I will let it. I have no intention of being the first to engage. I pull Itch away from the ship and together we stand behind a large rock, which should offer some protection if they choose to use energy weapons.
“So. Uh. How are you liking Patch so far?” The voice calls out from the distance.
I see a pair of large feet on the gang way. They must belong to the scythkin we are speaking to. He appears, very strangely, to be alone. Though I am not going to believe that until we can verify it. As far as I am aware, I am the only lone scythkin in the universe.
“Oh for….” A female voice interjects impatiently. I watch, stunned, as a short blonde woman comes storming down the gangway and stands at the end of it, her hands on her hips, a stern expression on her face. Her hair is cut short, her expression is severe, and her clothing is sensible. She wears a gold badge on her lapel which bears the word: MANAGER.
“We come in peace. Alright?” Her strident tone does not indicate peace, but the lack of death does.
“Karen, get back here!” the scythkin growls.
He, too, has a human who does not listen to him. I feel an immediate kinship, which is practically impossible.
“No! This is taking too long. We’re just here to say hello!”
“Scythkin don’t say hello. We slay hello,” the scythkin sighs. He stamps down the gangway to retrieve his woman.
I find myself relieved to see that he is small for a scythkin. I have at least two feet on him, and unless he is hiding a very patient horde who are prepared to be fronted by a strident human woman, I do think he is alone. Perhaps he is in the same situation I am. That seems unlikely, but so do most things in the universe.
“Hello,” the scythkin warrior declares. “I’m Tyank.”
“I’m John,” I say, emerging from behind the rock. Itch follows, staying behind me for once.
“Oh. Cool name. Cool. Cool. Cool.” He sucks air in between his fangs and flexes his clawed hands. “So, I guess you know I’m technically supposed to kill you.”
“I’m familiar with the custom.”
“I’d rather not,” he says. “Karen doesn’t like it.”
“I don’t like it,” Karen confirms.
“I don’t like it either,” Itch adds.
“Anyway, that’s why I told her to stay on the ship. In case I had to slaughter you.”
“There’s always the possibility that I would slaughter you.”
“I know,” Tyank says. “That also concerned me, if I’m honest.”
“Karen runs the ship?” Itch pipes up. “A human? Awesome!”
Karen smiles in a very gratified way and preens herself.
“It is awesome,” Tyank agrees. “Anyway, we’ve got one of our brood stuck on prehistoric Earth, so if you don’t mind, perhaps we could postpone the slaughter until we resolve that situation? Maybe relay that message to your brood?”
“My brood were vaporized by the Q’Ren.”
“Oh. That’s unfortunate.”
“It was very unfortunate.”
“So you’re alone.”
“I have my human.”
“Right, but your human provides limi
ted defensive capabilities.”
Itch
This is the weirdest conversation I've been party to, but it doesn’t seem like violence is likely to happen, and I’m grateful for that. This Tyank guy seems small for a scythkin, which still makes him absolutely massive for a human. I think John could beat him if they did fight, but I know that the real strength for scythkin is in numbers, and this Tyank likely has the numbers on his side.
“How can someone be stuck on a planet that doesn’t exist anymore?” I pipe up with the question.
“When they’re stuck in the past,” Tyank says.
“That makes sense. I think?”
“It does make sense,” Karen says, in a way which seems to disapprove of my insinuation that it might not make sense. I don't know if I like Karen. I also don’t know if I don’t like her.
“See, the problem is, we’re not really supposed to have scythkin down here on the planet’s surface,” Tyank says. “The timesplosion sent this lot of humans out from the old West and they’ve been doing a good job of preserving their way of life. But if they see you, they’re going to know that their world is not run by humans and frankly, that makes humans behave very badly. How about you and your human lady come back with me and my human lady?”
I look at John. His expression is inscrutable. I remember everything he said about scythkin from one clutch not being able to trust scythkin from other clutches, and I wonder if he isn’t in danger even though this Tyank guy doesn’t seem hostile.
“Where would we be going?” That’s a question worth asking, so I make sure to ask it.
“Back to the control region of the Interstellar Human Petting Zoo,” Tyank says. “There’s plenty of room for guests.”
“How do I know you won’t try to kill John?”
“I could promise not to.”
“He could promise not to,” I say to John.
“I can hear him, Itch,” John tells me.
“He can hear you,” I tell Tyank.
Tyank smiles at me in a friendly sort of flesh-ripping way. Karen narrows her eyes at me. I think she’s trying to size me up and work out what my deal is. I’m not going to make it easy for her, mostly because I don’t know what my deal is.
“I suppose we don’t have a choice,” John says. “If we are not permitted to stay here, then eventually action will be taken.”
“Precisely,” says Tyank.
I know John can’t trust Tyank. He and Karen are complete strangers to us. I don’t trust them either. But I’d also quite like to eat something that isn’t cabbage or slugs. And I kind of want to see the Interstellar Human Petting Zoo.
John turns to me with a little shrug. “Are you ready for another adventure, my little human?”
“Yes!” I can’t answer fast enough.
10 New Friends, New Enemies
John
“We put our lives in your hands, and those of your brood should you be reunited,” I tell Tyank.
I, of course, do not really mean that. My life and Itch’s are right where they have always been — in my clawed grasp. If I sense so much as a hint of hostility, I will slay every scythkin who dares oppose me.
It is not common for scythkin to trust others. It is completely unnatural. And that is why I do not trust him. But I do trust myself and my human. We will survive, whether it is on this planet, or on a scythkin brood ship.
“Excellent! Then gather your possessions and join us on the love boat,” Tyank invites.
He does not seem like a normal scythkin. I had heard of the brood which conquered the Galactor territory selling humans and turned it into a true preserve, of course. But I did not know how much they had been changed by their interactions with humans. I myself know how much humans impact a scythkin, how they take the darkest parts of our being, the sharpest edges of our existence, and soften and soothe them. Perhaps this clutch is more trustworthy for having such close relationships with humans.
Itch is out of our little Patch house and up the gangway before I can tell her that all the rules which would have applied to her behavior with my clutch will apply to being on this ship. I do not intend to be a scythkin with a badly behaved pet.
We have taken off by the time I find Itch. This ship is larger than any she has been on in some time. There are many cabins, lounging areas, a full medical bay, as well as the cockpit, command, and exercise areas.
She darts out of a lounge and runs toward me, apparently not intending on stopping at all.
“Hi, John! Bye, John!”
As she dashes past, I catch her and swing her off her feet.
“Get back here,” I say, holding her still against her will.
“This ship is amazing!” she declares with wide, excited eyes.
“Stop running around it. It’s not ours.”
“She can make herself comfortable,” Tyank says, appearing behind us. “I’ve already human-proofed it.”
“Itch is a little different than your Karen,” I tell him. “She’s much harder on things.”
“Is she?”
“Chews the walls,” I tell him.
“Karen, help Itch settle in,” Tyank says to the woman hovering beside him. “I’m going to take my man here for a drink in the bar.”
Itch
I’m left with the woman. She is looking at me as if I’m something she scraped off her shoe, but dared to get up and start talking. Karen is older than me by at least a decade, maybe more, and I get the impression she’s not keen on having another human on her ship.
“It was very generous of Tyank to welcome you and your scythkin aboard,” she says. “But there are procedures and protocols you will need to learn.”
“Like what?” I am immediately on guard. This woman is about to pull something on me, I can feel it.
“Like…” she looks at me and sniffs. “Like proper attire.”
I am wearing what I’ve been wearing since I made it in the old ship’s replicator.
“What’s wrong with this?”
“Nothing, if you’re on an auction block hoping to sell yourself.”
“You want me to change my clothes? Why?”
“You’re distracting, and you’re bringing the tone down.”
“What tone? Who am I distracting?”
“Most humans are caught in the simulation; they don’t have the privilege of knowing the reality of the universe as we do. Those of us who are truly free have a responsibility to act with dignity. And to dress with it.”
“Uh yeah, you’re not in charge of me, lady.”
“But I am. I manage the simulation, and that makes me your manager.”
“It doesn’t.”
“I believe it does.”
“I believe you can shove your management up your…”
“Don’t say that!”
“…” I pause.
“…” I pause longer.
“… ass!” I finish with a big, broad smile at Karen.
John
I am still on guard against this scythkin from another clutch, but I have to admit, he is taking a larger risk than I am by bringing me onboard his ship. I am larger. I believe I am older. And I am definitely stronger. I could slaughter him, and he knows it. But he is offering me refuge, and unless this is a trap, that means what I have thought of as being an immutable scythkin truth, that there is no possibility of alliances between clutches, is wrong.
I have missed scythkin company. I love Itch more than anything, but there is a certain understanding which can only come from another scythkin warrior.
“It’s nice to talk to another scythkin with a human,” Tyank says, echoing my thoughts. “Our first hatched has his own human, but he’s off trying to save our missing kin, so I have had to deal with Karen on my own. She’s been challenging.”
“What human isn’t?”
“True,” Tyank admits. “The simulation at the Interstellar Human Petting Zoo is always…”
REEEEEEEEEEE!
A sound like space coming
suddenly unmoored from time, a horrendous screeching sound which sounds like an infinite number of nails meeting an infinite number of chalkboards — which is a simile I learned in my human studies, interrupts our conversation and brings us both to our feet, blades fully extended to repel what must be an invasion.
My first thought is that the Q’Ren are attacking us, and that was the sound of the hull fragmenting.
But there is no damage to the ship, and no alarms are ringing out signaling an incursion. The sound rises to a crescendo then devolves into a sort of angry blathering, and when we race to the scene of the sound we discover that there is no invasion. This is an internal conflict, albeit no less dangerous than the Q’Ren.
Itch is on top of Karen, pulling at her hair with a viciousness my scythkin side appreciates on one level, while being thoroughly annoyed on another.
“NO!”
I grab Itch and haul her off Tyank's unfortunate mate. There are strands of blonde hair trapped between Itch’s fingers which do not belong to her.
We should have anticipated this. We know very well that two human females finding themselves suddenly sharing the same territory are likely to fight, though usually the altercations are not physical. Of course, Itch is much more physical than most human females, having been forced to defend herself so very many times in her life.
“Bad girl!” I growl at Itch and slap her ass firmly. She has a wild look in her eyes which indicates the fight is not over as far as she is concerned. Karen seems much less keen to continue their interaction.
“She called me trash!”
“I said you lacked refinement,” Karen says as Tyank helps her up from the floor. “And that you should wear something less revealing if you want to be taken seriously by management.”
“Dammit, Karen,” Tyank growls. “Leave the girl alone. She looks good.”
“Oh, you think that looks good? You wish I was wearing a skin-tight piece of rubber?”