Zonaton

by Mooney, Linda

  "No." She shook her head more emphatically. "No, Mommy. Zon is my family now. My life is with him."

  Mommy's anger increased. Her fingers dug painfully into Emmala's arms. Emmala looked around for the geron, but all she could see was the crowd closing in around them and growing larger.

  "What are you talking about, Em? That thing is an alien. It's not even human, and it's not your family. It'll never be your family. We're your family."

  Papa snagged Mommy's wrist and pulled her hand away from Emmala's arm. "Kell, she's Paired."

  "No." The denial came from between Mommy's teeth. She jerked her arm away from her husband's grip. "She's still our daughter. She's still my Emmala, and always will be." Looking back at Emmala, Mommy leaned toward her. "I don't care what that thing has told you. It's brainwashed you, and you don't know it. It's turned you against us, but I can forgive you for that. I want you to come visit us more often. You need to get to know your brother. No more of this disappearing. We expect you to come back home on a regular basis."

  It was a direct order. Her mother's tone made it clear she was to obey her parent. No arguing. No pleading.

  Emmala shook her head and tried again to release herself. "I can't, Mommy."

  "Why not? Why can't you? Of course you can. Don't be ridiculous. Come. The weather's turning nasty. Let's go to the house. I'll fix your favorite meal, and you and your brother can get to know each other."

  The grip loosened enough to where Emmala could put some distance between her and her parents. Mommy's look of surprise frightened her. She remembered that look. She remembered the punishments doled out whenever she dared to challenge the woman.

  "Mommy, I need to go."

  "Emmala, stop this nonsense right now and do what I say." The voice was cold. Worse, its tone sent a shiver through her. The woman was growing angry, and when she was angry, there was no escaping it. Mommy reached out to grab her. Emmala jumped away to avoid contact.

  "Emmala! Stop this and do what I say! We're going home, and you're coming with us!" The woman took two menacing steps toward her, and it was two too many.

  "Zon!"

  The cry came from deep within her. It was immediately answered with a loud, high-pitched screech. The crowd reacted with panic, screaming and retreating in fear to clear the way for the creature. Apparently they had forgotten about the geron sitting inside the meeting hall. Several were hurt in the panicked rush, and were dragged away. Many more made sure to put a substantial amount of distance between themselves and Emmala.

  Zonaton emerged from the building and paused in front of the doorway. He lifted his immense wings, giving the villagers a display of his strength and size, then strode toward her with long, deliberate steps. The expression on his face was enigmatic, but his body language made it clear that no one should dare to stand in his way. His long tail zipped from side to side, showing his agitation.

  Emmala felt relief come over her as he advanced. His silvery white body almost glowed in the fading sunlight, and a sense of pride filled her. He was truly a unique and special creature, and in her eyes, exceptional, even among other gerons.

  He halted a few yards away, his anger-filled brown eyes never leaving her mother and father. No thought or picture formed in her mind, but she didn't need one. She could tell from his body posture that he was rigidly trying to control his fury.

  Her mother took a menacing step forward, her face contorted with anger. "Leave my daughter alone, you monster!"

  Emmala stared in horror, unable to move or look away from the woman who took another step toward her and reached out with one hand, fingers extended like claws, to grab her arm. Something tugged on the back of her shirt so hard, she stumbled backwards, almost falling, and she realized it was Zonaton yanking her out of the woman's reach.

  "Give me back my daughter, you horrible creature!"

  The jerk on her shirt was enough to break the spell. Emmala wrenched her eyes away from her mother. Gratefully, she turned to the geron, who crouched down to let her climb onto his back. As she took her seat, he kept a cautious eye on the rest of the townsfolk, silently daring them to interfere. Once she was settled, Zonaton gave another nerve-shattering cry and leaped into the air, even as her mother screamed obscenities at them.

  As they soared higher and further away from the village, Emmala glanced down to see what her parents were doing, but she could no longer spot them amid the swell of people refilling the square. However, one lone figure caught her eye. It was a young, dark-haired man, standing on the roof of one of the shops. She was unable to identify him from that distance, but she got the impression she knew him.

  Zonaton banked toward the mountains, and the village disappeared from view, leaving her exhausted from the encounter. Up here, the wind furiously beat against them, forcing the geron to keep close to the mountainside. Shivering, she buried her face in his neck and closed her eyes.

  "Why did you wait so long to come for me?"

  I did not intend to interfere unless you needed me.

  There was pause, and she knew he was gathering his thoughts.

  Would you have stayed?

  "I had considered sharing some time with them, but that's not what Mommy wanted. She said she wanted me to visit, but I could tell she wanted me to stay with them forever."

  Would you have stayed if you could?

  "No. My life is no longer with them. It's with you. It will always be with you. I can't imagine it being any other way."

  She waited for his reply, but none came. Instead, she sensed his relief. And later, after they reached their home, she saw his eyes were a rich, golden color.

  Chapter Eight

  The Truth

  He stood over her, watching her sleep. He didn't need to touch her or to reach inside her mind to know why she was restless. It was clear she was besieged with nightmares and dreams from her past.

  Dropping to one knee, Zonaton leaned closer. She was making those little sounds in her throat again. Soft, distressed whimpers that struck him in the heart.

  Lightning flashed outside as the rain poured down in sheets across the mountain range. The reddish-tinged explosions lit even the furthest corners of the cave, making the fire in the pit nearly invisible. The clouds, unable to cross over the jagged range, vented their anger, roaring loudly and ferociously, but the storm was not able to awaken Emmala from her slumber.

  Rising, Zonaton strode over to the cave's mouth and gazed out across the valley shrouded in darkness. He could breathe again. His blood could unfreeze, and his heart could resume pumping it through his body.

  An eternity seemed to pass as he sat in the corner of that meeting room, terrified he would lose her. More than that, he realized with astonishment how firmly she'd become a part of him. If he was allowed to admit to that human emotion called love, after today he would willingly and unashamedly confess to feeling it for the young woman he'd Paired with fifteen years ago.

  Emmala gasped and cried out. He watched as she rolled over onto her other side, facing away from him, and went back to sleep. Images from her dreams pounded against the walls of his consciousness, their shadowy figures demanding his attention. Closing his eyes, he briefly succumbed to their demands.

  "No, Emmala. You do as I say. You will remain here at this house until I return. Am I clear?" Mommy's face was pink with anger. Regardless, Emmala had to know why she couldn't go to school. Why she had to stay home. Why she wasn't allowed even to go outside and play.

  "I'm bored! I want to go to school!"

  The slap across the side of her face and cheek both shocked and burned. Tears blurred her vision as her mother grabbed her by the arm and half-dragged her into her room. There, the door was sealed shut to prevent her from leaving.

  The hours crawled. Hunger rumbled in her belly, and she desperately wanted something to drink. She had to go relieve herself, but could not exit her little prison. Unable to hold it, she peed inside the closet, in the furthest corner, and tried to cover it with one of
her old blankets. But Mommy found it when she finally returned and let her out. She got a bad spanking that day, one that left bruises on her. And when Papa got home that evening, Mommy told him about the mess in the closet. She was too scared to tell him Mommy had locked her in her room all day, and that she hadn't gone to school, because she was fearful Papa would spank her, too, for missing her education.

  Zonaton bowed his head. The memory was similar to so many of her dreams. Dreams she had suffered through during those earlier years, right after he had taken the child away to live with him. Dreams which had slowly yet gradually vanished as time went by, until she was finally able to sleep without crying or being afraid.

  Afraid she would be returned.

  Emmala, do you ever find yourself wanting to visit your family?

  It was barely two months since he had flown her away from the field. In that time, she had not asked to see her parents, although her sleep was consistently troubled.

  Emmala stared at him, and for the first time he felt her trepidation rising, until her little body began to tremble. "Do I have to?"

  Her response surprised him, and he sent her warm reassurance as he drew her into his arms and cuddled her against his chest. The child pressed her cheek to his skin and closed her eyes, and soon the trembling ceased.

  "I miss Papa," she finally admitted in a soft voice.

  It was at that moment when he understood what had taken place that day on the walking field. He had connected to her fear, a fear not created because of the ordeal she was made to go through, but the fear she had of surviving. Of reaching the other side where one parent would continue to abuse her, and the other remained unaware of what was happening on almost a daily basis. A fear that wrapped around her so tightly, it often strangled her until she could barely take any more of it.

  It wasn't long after that event that he flew over to the far end of the mountain range, to the cave where Gotheesis lived with his Pair, a boy name Evaan. The young geron was wise beyond his years, and already had anticipated Zonaton's question before it was asked.

  As they watched the five- and nine-year-old play together, the pale green geron gave a deep sigh. Yes, it was the same for us.

  The fear? The abuse?

  Yes, only worse.

  Has Evaan ever asked to go see his parents again?

  No. Never. He is content now. He can smile and laugh now, although there still are times when he will ask me if I am going to take him back one day. Back to them. That fear will never leave him.

  Emmala has not asked me that, but it is clear she sometimes believes that when she disobeys me, I will do so as punishment.

  The green geron blocked his sadness from reaching the children, although Zonaton could feel it. I am astounded and appalled at the way these helpless beings are treated. Do you believe all of their younglings are subjected to those horrors?

  No.

  How can you sound so sure?

  Because I fully believe I would have felt their pain, the same way I felt Emmala's pain. The memory of the marks and discoloration he'd seen on the girl's body when she had undressed to bathe that first night would forever remain burned in his mind's eye. This is what I now believe the Pairing is about, Gotheesis. It is our chance to save a tortured soul one child at a time.

  The way our removing the worst of their kind, their diseased, saves hundreds more?

  Yes. Because we remove those who would destroy others, we are saving them. But they do not see our purpose, and as such, they do not understand.

  Zonaton, do you believe that by saving one child from a life of horror, that we are granted equal salvation at the end of our days?

  The observation mirrored exactly what Zonaton accepted as the truth.

  Gotheesis continued. Have any of the Elders approached the humans to explain The Walk or The Pairing?

  No, and I do not expect them to.

  Why not? Because the humans will not listen?

  No. Because the humans will ignore the truth, and continue on with their lives and their brutal treatment of their own younglings, believing it is their right.

  Gotheesis grunted in acknowledgement. Maybe one day they can be told, and the humans will finally understand why we cull their numbers.

  I hope that day never arrives.

  Why not?

  Once they realize we kill the children who will grow up to destroy them, and remove the ones they themselves will destroy, they will no longer fear us. They will spread their numbers and their sickness throughout the planet, preventing us from saving them and those younglings most in need.

  Zonaton returned to the pallet where Emmala continued to make those soft mewling noises. Stretching out on the ground next to her, he drew her into his embrace and held her against his warmth. Protecting her from the chilly air, in spite of the rocks throwing out their heat from the pit. Casting a mental blanket over her mind. Easing the tension and stress brought about by the day's events. Presently, she ceased fighting the demons in her dreams, and relaxed into blissful sleep.

  He would never tell her that part of the reason the Elders wanted only her and him to return to the village to warn the people about the miners was because they needed to test their Pairing. More than that, he had to know Emmala would no longer respond to her mother's demand. That she would no longer blindly follow the woman who was determined to get back what she had lost. And, without a doubt, who would have resumed the hideous treatment had Emmala succumbed.

  In addition, he had to know, had to be assured deep within his core, that Emmala cared for him with the same depth of feeling he felt for her.

  Closing his eyes, he hugged her. To his relief, she unconsciously smiled. The moment he had heard her mental cry of help she had directed to him, he had known the truth. He had felt a joy he never knew he could experience, and every last shred of despair flew away with the wind, the same way he flew away from the village with his Emmala on his back.

  With the young woman settled and content, he allowed himself to rest.

  Abisod

  We heard about the incident yesterday in the village.

  Then you know Emmala and I have a True Pairing.

  Yes, you do. However, that is not the issue.

  Then what is the problem? Why have you and the Elders called me here, Abisod?

  There are claims you injured a villager.

  I touch no one except Emmala.

  The villager is her mother.

  She lies. She is lying to get Emmala back. That human is the cause of Emmala's suffering, and the reason why I Paired with the girl in the first place. She was adamant that Emmala return to their home, and tried to forcefully take her there. I intervened, but I never touched her or any other villager. I know the laws, and I obeyed them.

  How did Emmala take it?

  She suffered mentally. Emotionally. But she is better now. I was able to calm her fears.

  Regardless, there still remains the matter of the villagers rising against you. Against us. They are adamant that Emmala and all the other children who were taken be returned immediately.

  Tell them to go suck a rock.

  The old, midnight-black geron appeared amused. Perhaps it is time we tell the villagers why their younglings must take The Walk.

  They will never believe you. They will never own up to their imperfections, their hatred, or their cruelty.

  Your objection is noted, Zonaton. However, the villagers are demanding an apology. And an accounting.

  The villagers were there when I took Emmala away from that woman. They saw what occurred. They already know the truth.

  The villager is claiming you returned afterward to harm her.

  And I swear she is lying. Emmala will vouch for me.

  That may be so, but will the villagers believe her? Or will they think she is lying to protect you? Stop and think, Zonaton. Did you at any time leave Emmala alone after you took her away from the village?

  Briefly. No more than a few minutes to search for f
ood. She was exhausted and went straight to her pallet. She never awoke, even after I returned.

  Then you have no witness and no alibi. You have no way to prove your innocence. And the woman has the backing of the entire village.

  Zonaton stood in stunned silence at what the Elders were saying.

  What are you implying, Abisod? Are the Elders going to order me to return Emmala to her first home?

  The thought sickened him. After the encounter, Emmala had almost reverted back to the terrified five-year-old she had been. He had sworn to himself he would never subject her to that kind of ordeal again, even if it meant going against orders from the Elders. Before Abisod could respond, Zonaton re-directed. Have other parents demanded their children be returned?

  Of course. All of them have. Anticipating what Zonaton's next question would be, the geron added. But none of them have claimed they were attacked by one of us.

  I tell you, the report of an attack is false. What kind of injuries is the woman reporting?

  Scratches, mostly. Some bite marks and bruises.

  Zonaton paused. Already he could see holes in the woman's falsehood. Are any of the injuries serious?

  Fortunately, no.

  Mentally girding himself, Zonaton lifted his head to face the Elder full-on. What are the Elders requesting I do?

  Meet with the woman in front of their own council. Make retribution.

  The only retribution that woman will accept is the return of her child.

  Then that leaves you with just two options. Either you return Emmala to her and denounce your Pairing. Or you find another way to appease the mother and the village's demands.

  What if there is no other way?

  Then it is very possible the village will rise up against us, as they did back in the days when they first landed. Only this time, they will rally the other villages to join them, and there are thousands of them now, as opposed to the few hundred they were back then. If that happens, if they do attack us, there can be only one outcome.